“That may be true,” she whispered, “but he wants to marry you.”
“Shh, don’t say that. Someone might hear.”
“It will become public information soon enough,” Emma said wistfully. “I can’t wait to meet the man who wants to marry me.”
Phoebe took her hand and squeezed it, then let it go. “You will soon.”
“I hope.” They paused outside the drawing room doors. “Are you ready?”
Phoebe shivered. “I think so.”
Emma nodded to the footman standing beside the double doors, and he opened them. Phoebe glanced around the beautifully decorated green-and-cream drawing room she’d only seen by peeking through a crack in the doors. At that time, she never thought she would ever be invited inside to partake of tea with the family. But here she was. When she and Emma entered the room, her aunt looked at them briefly, then turned and continued her conversation with Sarah and Catherine, who so resembled their mother in coloring and personality. Their hair was brown to match their brown eyes. That’s not to say her cousins weren’t lovely. They were quite beautiful. If only the beauty went beneath the surface.
Sarah and Catherine sat on a deep-green settee, facing their mother on an identical one. “Come sit beside me, Emma, dear,” Lady Greenwich said, patting the settee.
Emma gave her a look, then went and sat down beside her mother. There were several other groupings of chairs in the room, and Phoebe sat in the chair closest to the settee on whichEmma resided. She didn’t want to be near her aunt, but she did want to be close to Emma.
“Phoebe, would you care for a cup of tea?” her aunt asked, shocking her.
“Yes, please. With milk and two sugars.”
“Emma, be a dear and serve your cousin. Add a few biscuits the cook just made as well. She looks thin, and we can’t have the duke thinking she is neglected.”
She stared at Emma as Emma poured and prepared her tea. “Thank you,” she said, handing them to her. Just as she took her first sip, a footman entered and announced, “His Grace, the Duke of Weston.”
She glanced over her teacup as the handsome duke entered the drawing room, approached her aunt, and bowed. “Lady Greenwich, how honored I am to be back in your drawing room.”
“The honor is all ours, Your Grace.”
He flicked his eyes to Phoebe, causing her cheeks to heat. She knew he was handsome and had a strange effect on her, so how had she not prepared herself for the onslaught that was the Duke of Weston? The air vacated her lungs, and she had to force her jaw to remain closed. Otherwise, the entire contents of the drawing room would see her ogle the duke.
“Emma, please let His Grace sit beside me.”
“That is not necessary, Lady Greenwich. There is an empty set near Miss Windham.”
“Nonsense, you will sit with me. We didn’t really get to talk or get to know one another the last time you visited.”
CHAPTER NINE
When Oliver’s carriage pulled up outside Greenwich House, he was glad it was now, not the last time he had visited. That visit had been disastrous, except for noticing a beautiful sprite peeking through doorways. Today, he was here to see the sprite, Miss Windham. Her face had visited his dreams nightly since his eyes had fallen upon her lovely face. He hadn’t felt glad at the time, but how fortunate he was today that Lady Greenwich had turned down his offer to court her eldest daughter. Him being the Duke of Doom, she wouldn’t sacrifice any of her daughters to his curse. How grateful he was indeed that she was willing to sacrifice her niece.
Following the butler into the drawing room and being announced, he felt his heart speed up when his eyes fell on Miss Windham. Lady Greenwich ruined his excitement by insisting he sit with her, making him wonder what she was up to. Now seated beside Lady Greenwich, as far away from her as the settee would allow, he shivered at the devious look in her eyes. Indeed, she fluttered her lashes and smiled, but it was all false. Even if Miss Windham hadn’t told him about Lady Greenwich, he would have known she was devious. The question was, what was she hiding? And why was she being cordial to him when she had treated him no better than an unwanted cur before?
“Your Grace,” the countess said. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot the other day. I hope you can forgive my impertinence.”
“All is forgiven,” he said, trying to look as if he meant it.
“Lord Greenwich and I spoke this morning, and I’ve decided to allow you to choose one of our three beautiful and talented daughters to court. Or, if you’d prefer to skip straight to marriage, Greenwich is in his study. You can go to him andnegotiate the wedding contract for whichever daughter you so desire.”
She’d caught him off guard, even though he shouldn’t have been. Now she would agree to a courtship with one of her daughters? No doubt because he wanted to court Miss Windham, and she could not abide it. “While I’m flattered that you have offered up one of your daughters to me, I’m only interested in Miss Windham.”
She wasn’t very good at schooling her anger. “I don’t understand. My daughters are beautiful, have pristine reputations, and come with a substantial dowry. Why would you want that little mouse of a girl who grew up in a gutter and has no dowry?”
“Please be very careful how you speak of Miss Windham,” he said through clenched teeth. “She may be your niece, but in time she will become my duchess.” He stood, adjusted his shirt sleeves, and bowed. “If you’ll excuse me, I would like to speak with her.”
He pivoted around and could feel her eyes like daggers slicing across his back, shredding his favorite brown riding jacket. The sooner he married Miss Windham, the better he would feel. He hated knowing she was living with that woman, and that woman was responsible for her. His only relief came from knowing Lady Emma cared for Miss Windham and was her ally. And, according to Mrs. Dove-Lyon, would risk ruination to help her.
He approached the chair where Miss Windham sat and bowed. “Miss Windham, how lovely to see you.”
