Even ifpretendinggrated at her.
Still. It would help that—pending the efficacy of the begging—she would likely never see the Duke of Redcliff again after today.
And that was agood thing. She’d repeat that until it felt true, too.
“Miss Hannah,” he said, his voice growing icier. Again, Phoebe rolled her eyes. She probably should have tried to hide that particular expression of distaste on her face, given the whole bit with the begging, but she couldn’t help it. Had he heardnothingof what she had said?
Phoebe had once had a governess who had continually told her that it cost a young lady nothing to spread a bit of pleasantness in the world. Phoebe had fundamentally disagreed with this statement—it cost her a great deal to always pretend to besweetandbiddableand abominablybrainless—and Phoebe had hated hearing the words.
Still, she wanted to say them to the Duke now. Largelybecausehe would hate hearing it.
But she supposed it wouldn’t do to irritate the Duke.
More was the pity.
“I take it, since you are all here,” the Duke said in that same frigid voice, “that I shall not once again find myself facing a runaway bride?”
Hannah’s smile looked liable to break under the slightest pressure.
“Hannah, sweetheart, would you mind going to ask the housekeeper for some refreshments?” Phoebe asked sweetly. It was a transparent excuse to get her sister out of the room since, normally, they would simply ring for tea and biscuits. From the Duke’s impatient look, he knew what she was doing.
From Hannah’s grateful look,sheknew what Phoebe was doing.
Lord Turner looked at his elder daughter like she’d taken leave of her senses.
“Just pull the bell, Phoebe. Honestly,” he huffed.
Phoebe prayed for patience.
“I’m afraid it’s not working, Father,” she said, pinning him with a meaningful look.
Lord Turner startled in his seat. “Not working? Since when?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned to the Duke. “I do beg your pardon, Your Grace. I am perfectly able to keep my house in working order; don’t ever doubt it. Phoebe, why didn’t you tell me this wasn’t working? You should have had it fixed at once!”
Phoebe lamented, for the hundred thousandth time in her life, thatthiswas the man who had been given total, legal control over her life and that of her sister. Was it really any wonder that Phoebe had never felt any real interest in getting married? Really. Honestly.
“I’m sure it will be fixed soon, Father,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I shall see to it!” he said, standing swiftly. It was a remarkable bit of theater, watching her father pretend to be capable. “I shall see to it immediately.”
He nodded decisively at the Duke, who was watching this all with absolute impassivity.
“Never fear, Your Grace,” he said smartly, seeming to really believe that a man who had battled alongside Admiral Nelson might be genuinely appalled by a broken bellpull.
He strode from the room with purpose.
Phoebe watched him go, not certain if she should be exasperated or pleased. On one hand, she wanted him out of the room because it was much easier to lay aside her pride when her father wasn’t there to witness it. On the other hand, he was leaving for a reason that was so unbearably stupid that any person who appreciated good sense would struggle to stand idly by.
Plus, she would have to give the poor housekeeper a bribe out of her pin money for the indignity of having to solve an imaginary problem for her employer.
“I’ll just—ah—help him?” Hannah said, offering Phoebe an awkward, apologetic wince as she scurried after her father.
She paused only to bob a hasty curtsey to the Duke as she passed him.
“I was wrong,” he muttered dryly when he and Phoebe were alone in the room. “Ididhave another runaway bride. I am distinctly unamused.”
All of Phoebe’s good intentions about not annoying him evaporated.
“Are you?” she asked. “Because I’malmostcertain that was a joke. It’s hard to tell, coming from you, but I really suspect that I am right.”
