She could protect Hannah from some things, but not necessarily from the consequences of her own actions.
“Father,” Hannah mumbled, looking down at her feet.
“Can you tell me,” Lord Turner asked, tone snide, “why my favorite daughter would take my efforts to secure her a good marriage and not only throw them back in my face but do so in a way that embarrassed me in front of a duke? In a way that was all but guaranteed to lead to a scandal? In a way that made your sister worry for your wellbeing?”
Phoebe felt that there were many things to object to in this series of questions. The comment about Hannah being his favoritedaughter wastrue—they all knew it—but saying it out loud did seem to be a bit beyond the pale.
Not to mention that her father’s hierarchy of concerns, starting with his personal embarrassment and ending with Phoebe—just Phoebe, apparently—being worried, felt like it could do with a bit of reordering.
Though again, Phoebe supposed she couldn’t fault him for his honesty.
“I’m sorry?” Hannah ventured.
Huh. Phoebe could have told her that it would not work. Their father was like a shark, and he treated apologies like blood in the water.
“You should be sorry,” he said, sounding no less angry, “but you also should begin explaining yourself. Immediately, please.”
Hannah looked at Phoebe. Their father also looked at Phoebe.
“Oh, no,” Phoebe said, raising her hands in a gesture of innocence. “Do not look at me—not either of you! I, too, would like an explanation for what is happening here.” She lowered her voice a little when she looked back at her sister. She just couldn’t help herself. “I really was worried, Hannah,” she said softly. “You ran out into the snow, and I… I didn’t know if you were safe.”
“I left a note!” Hannah said defensively.
Turner’s head snapped to glare at Phoebe. He seemed relieved by the opportunity to return to form and take out his anger on his least favorite daughter.
Apparently, that one smarted a little, Phoebe noted absently.
“Why is this the first I’m hearing about a note?”
“It didn’t have anything useful,” Phoebe told him. She had plenty of experience on the receiving end of her father’s scorn, so she knew better than to apologize. “Which is why I would still like to hear an explanation from Hannah.”
Hannah looked pale as she shrank under the stares of her father and her sister. She shuffled some more, gnawed at her bottom lip, and then relented.
“Fine,” she said with a huff. “If you must know, I… I fell in love.”
“What?” Phoebe cried.
“Who is this scoundrel?” their father demanded, his expression thunderous. “Why has he not courted you properly? Is he unsuitable? Is he married? Is hepoor?”
Only their father would consider a married lover to be better than an impoverished one. Phoebe couldn’t resist rolling her eyes.
“What Father means to say,” Phoebe said pointedly, not that this was likely to have any material impact on Lord Turner, “is can you tell us who he is?”
Their father grumbled as if to suggest that this was not at all what he meant, but he didn’t interject.
Hannah waffled a little bit more, shifting her weight. Phoebe could practically feel their father’s patience wearing thin.
“It’s Lord Lyle,” she admitted eventually.
Phoebe felt her shoulders slump in relief. Lord Lyle was a viscount—not to mention that he was scarcely thirty, unmarried, and not poor. He might not be as wealthy as the Duke of Redcliff—few were—but he was an eminently suitable match.
Which was why it really was outrageous when their father said in a tone that held no room for argument, “No.”
“Um,” Hannah said, darting a glance to Phoebe, who offered her a shrug. She didn’t have answers, no matter that the two of them seemed determined to make her answer for everything. “Yes? I mean, yes,” she said again, this time more definitely. “We are in love.”
“No!” said their father. His tone suggested that he was about one protest away from stamping his foot and crossing his arms like a small child who had been denied a treat. “You arenotgoing to marry Lyle. He’s merely a viscount!”
“You’remerely a viscount,” Phoebe couldn’t resist pointing out.
