“I don’t need his love. I just need us to like each other enough to marry.”
Emma squeezed her hands, then let them go. “You will. Now go, read, relax, and daydream about your handsome duke in shining armor who has come to rescue you from the tower.”
Phoebe laughed. “Thank you for your friendship. You have made being here bearable.”
“Same for me. In case you haven’t noticed, my sisters and I don’t do sisterly things. They have each other, and I’m the black sheep. I don’t mind. They take after Mother. Not very kind or compassionate. I’d rather be the outcast sister with you as my cousin and friend any day. I just hope I marry soon so we can see each other anytime we want without Mother’s interference. We’ll be ladies of our own houses. We need never see Mother or my unkind sisters again.”
She pulled Emma into a hug. “I’m sorry. If I marry the duke, I’ll ask whether he has any unmarried friends.”
“Then I must make sure you marry the duke so you can find me a husband and free me from this place. I’d better go backto the drawing room before Mother wonders where I’ve gone. I’ll see you at tea.”
“Yes.” Phoebe stood in the hall and watched Emma. Not that she knew anything about the leisurely life of theton, but she’d heard from her mother that they spent their days making social calls and their evenings at one social event or another. It seemed odd that her aunt and uncle rarely left the house. Since she’d been here, she didn’t think they’d attended a single ball. Something to ask Emma about. For now, she entered her room, picked up her mother’s book of poems by Lord Byron, and sat on the bench at the foot of the bed to read. She’d read it so many times that she could recite the poems by heart. Still, it soothed her and made her feel close to her mother.
A few hours later, she went to the kitchens for luncheon and found her stomach in knots, so she only picked at her food. Back in her room, she removed her green dress, smoothed out the wrinkles, and hung it up. She didn’t want to cause any more wrinkles and be unable to wear it for the duke.
She climbed into bed and forced herself to rest. It wasn’t easy. Her entire body vibrated with excitement. A duke was calling on her today. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought such a thing would happen to her.
There was a knock on her door, and Maggie called out, “Miss Phoebe, I’m here to get you ready.”
“Maggie,” she said, shocked she’d actually fallen asleep and that it was now three in the afternoon. “Come in.”
Maggie closed the door behind her, then went to the dressing table and set down the small basket she carried. “What dress do you wish to wear?”
Phoebe swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rose. “The green one.”
“Perfect.” Maggie removed it from the wardrobe and shook out the skirt. “I always loved this dress on Lady Emma. I’m surprised she parted with it.”
“So am I. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”
With Maggie’s help, she was dressed. Now at the dressing table, Maggie undid her braids and brushed out her long, thick tresses.
“You have the same hair as Lady Emma. Lord Greenwich has the same color. Does your father as well?”
“Yes.” She tried to hide the sadness from her voice but knew she failed.
“Forgive me for asking.”
“It is quite all right.” Phoebe watched Maggie’s hands as she brushed her hair and then styled it into a simple, loose knot at the nape of her neck.
“Do you like it?”
She turned her head from side to side and smiled. “Yes, I look pretty. Before my mother became ill, she used to style my hair like this. Thank you.”
“I’m sorry for the loss of your mother.”
“Thank you, Maggie.”
“Lady Emma said she’d knock on your door at four so you wouldn’t have to go down to the drawing room alone.”
Maggie left, taking her basket of pins and such. Phoebe found herself with fifteen minutes until Emma would collect her. She spent them pacing the room, then pausing at the window to glance out at the gardens. Too bad her room didn’t face the street so she could watch the goings-on, perhaps even catch a glimpse of the duke when he arrived.
“Phoebe,” Emma said from her open door. “Didn’t you hear me knock?”
“I guess not,” she replied, taking one last look at herself in the looking glass before exiting the room beside Emma.
“You look so pretty. The duke will be tongue-tied when he sees you.”
She hmphed. “I doubt it. I’m quite convinced he sees beautiful ladies every day.”
