“I’m glad to hear that. Ah, we have returned.”
So engrossed in their conversation, she hadn’t realized they had completed the loop through the gardens and were back at the veranda. She wasn’t ready for him to leave. She wanted to feel his lips on hers again. Her first real kiss. The drunkards on the street trying to steal kisses were just plain vile.
Her stomach tightened. It wasn’t the first time she’d had an ominous premonition about her future, but this one was more intense. If she begged him to take her away now, would he? Most likely, but she wouldn’t put him in that precarious situation. When he held the special license in hand, it would be good enough. Until then, she would have to believe in him, believe she had some good luck coming her way, and be patient. And stay away from her aunt.
They entered the drawing room, and Phoebe’s insides froze at the hatred she glimpsed in her aunt’s eyes. If only she understood where it came from. Was it residual, because her aunt hated her father and mother, and therefore hated her? It was likely she would never know. Once she was gone from this house for good, it wouldn’t matter anymore.
“You have returned,” her aunt sneered. She waved her arm to a footman standing at the entrance to the room. “Please see His Grace out.”
“One moment, please,” Weston said to her aunt as he took an invitation from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “An invitation to a small dinner party tomorrow evening. I hope you’ll come. It will give me time to get to know you, your lovely daughters, and Miss Windham better.”
“I will consider it,” Lady Greenwich said.
There was no time for a proper goodbye before he was escorted from the drawing room. Phoebe shouldn’t have been shocked by her aunt’s breach of proper etiquette or rudeness toward Weston, but she was. No wonder they didn’t receive many social invitations. Who would want to host or befriend such a lady?
Her aunt glared at her. “Leave us.”
Without a word, Phoebe left and hurried to her room, flopping onto the bed and pushing her aunt out of her mind. Her thoughts then centered on the duke, Oliver. She remembered hearing his given name was Oliver. He was the most handsome man she’d ever encountered. Not that she had encountered many. His dark hair was thick and wavy, and it got tangled in his jacket collar. She couldn’t wait to run her fingers through his hair.Where had that thought come from?His golden-brown eyes didn’t hold a speck of unkindness. Not true. When he looked at her aunt, they did. She hugged herself and quivered. Her aunt had serious anger and hate issues.
As she lay there, the tightness in her chest eased, and her breathing slowed. When her eyelids closed, she welcomed sleep.
She couldn’t believe she’d slept through the entire night, but the lightness of the sky shining through the curtains proved she had. Sitting up, she stretched and winced at the wrinkled mess she’d made of her day dress. After taking care of hermorning needs, she washed up and put on a blue day dress. Entering the kitchen, she fixed a plate of poached eggs and toast, poured a cup of coffee, and sat at the long wooden table with several servants.
After Phoebe finished eating, she washed her plate and went back upstairs to her room, wondering how she would pass the time. She could go to Emma’s room. No, she thought, she was probably still asleep since it was barely seven. Somehow, she found little things here and there to keep her busy throughout the day.
CHAPTER TEN
Phoebe was shocked when Emma told her they would attend the dinner party at Hudson Hall. She had convinced herself that her aunt had sent a refusal. Maggie helped her into a lovely cream evening dress and pulled her hair up into a stylish coiffure. While Maggie styled her hair, she tried to remain still, but it was difficult as her insides vibrated with excitement.
When it was time to leave, Emma and Phoebe met Lady Greenwich in the entryway. “It will be the three of us. The twins need not attend, and your father has other plans.” The butler opened the door, and she followed her aunt and Emma outside, down the stairs, and into the carriage. She sat beside Emma while her aunt took the opposite seat. The tension radiating from her aunt was palpable in the small space. Clearly, she resented having to attend the dinner. No doubt she accepted for Lord Hudson’s sake and it had nothing to do with Weston. Perhaps Hudson might be interested in Emma.
It wasn’t long before they arrived at Lord Hudson’s townhome in Mayfair. With the help of a footman, all three of them exited the carriage and headed up the stairs and into the large entryway. The butler relieved them of their cloaks and escorted them up the stairs and into a large, dark-blue-and-cream drawing room filled with people she didn’t recognize, except for Weston. The butler announced their arrival, and immediately Weston and a gentleman she didn’t know approached them.
“Lady Greenwich, Lady Emma, and Miss Windham, may I present Lord Robert Harris, the Earl of Hudson?”
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Lord Hudson said as he bowed. “I am honored that you grace me with your presence.”
Lady Greenwich curtsied and said, “We are honored to have been invited, Lord Hudson.”
Lady Emma curtsied and whispered, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Emma,” he replied with a rakish grin. Lord Hudson was as handsome as Weston. Hudson was fair, with blue eyes, in contrast to the duke’s dark hair and eyes.
“Thank you for inviting me, Lord Hudson,” Phoebe said with a smile.
“You are most welcome. Please enjoy yourselves, ladies. If you’ll excuse me, I have several more guests to speak with.”
Lord Hudson was barely out of earshot, and clearly, her aunt forgot the duke was standing with them when she said, “If His Grace doesn’t marry you, Emma, perhaps Lord Hudson will. Smile and flirt with him. It’s high time you were married.” Then she walked off.
“Please forgive my mother, Your Grace,” Emma said, blushing a deep pink.
“Nothing to forgive, Lady Emma,” Weston said with a kind smile. “You are not your mother, nor do you need to apologize for her.”
“How long have you known Lord Hudson?” Phoebe asked, trying to change the subject and ease Emma’s embarrassment.
“Since our days at Eton.”
“Is there a Lady Hudson?” Emma asked, then slapped her hand over her mouth and mumbled, “Forget I asked.”
