Page 13 of The Rogue’s Countess

“I know the author quite well. I’m P. Currer.” Her quiet reply caused Lady Lyndham to jerk slightly as if Phoebe had surprised her with such a direct response. Unable to help herself, she smiled with amusement at the woman’s astonishment. “Your reaction suggests you expected me to deny it.”

“Well…yes,” Lady Lyndham said with a light-hearted laugh while a frown of puzzlement furrowed her brow. “I did.”

“I’ve learned over the last two years to choose my battles wisely. I know when to fight, when not to, and when to surrender.”

“A wise woman, indeed,” the countess said with another laugh as she set her teacup on her tray. “And quite clever, I might add. The entire Set hangs onto your every word while hoping they’re not the ones being placed under the microscope next.”

“Do you intend to out me as the author?” she asked with bated breath. An appalled look crossed Lady Lyndham’s face.

“Of course not! The repercussions would be quite severe.” The countess said with a hard shake of her head. “If you chose to return to society, it would be a painful experience. The Set can be as vicious as a rabid dog. I would never subject you, or anyone else for that matter, to such a painful verbal flogging.”

“I am well-acquainted with the Set’s taste for blood, and I have no wish to reenter their midst so they may inflict more wounds.” Phoebe bit out through clenched teeth as she remembered the people who’d been unkind to her from the moment she’d been introduced to London society.

“When it comes to the Marlborough Set drawing blood, we are in agreement, which is precisely why I know already we shall become close friends.”

“Friends, my lady?”

“Absolutely. I think you’re quite clever, have a good sense of humor, and you are kind. That I know from your willingness to forgive my transgressions earlier. In fact, I insist that you call me Constance.”

Stunned by the offer of friendship, she stared at the countess in amazement. Although Lawrence’s women friends had welcomed her into their inner circle, none of them had ever made any effort to befriend her as Lady Lyndham was doing. Not only that, but the countess had said they would become close friends. The woman barely knew her. How could she possibly know that? A second later, Phoebe realized how ridiculous the question was given the woman’s talent.

Still bemused in the face of the countess’s cheerful declaration, she couldn’t think of a reply. Out of the corner of her eye, Phoebe saw a movement in the doorway. She turned her head to see the woman who had escorted Lady Lyndham into Madame Sabine’s office. Tension flooded Phoebe’s body. Had the woman heard her confession? As the woman walked toward them, the countess leaned forward and patted Phoebe’s hand.

“You have nothing to fear. My sister, like my other siblings, might be reckless on occasion but would never betray a friend.” The gentle reassurance in the countess’s soft words made Phoebe relax slightly.

“Are you feeling better, Constance?”

A netted veil made it difficult to see the woman’s face, but Phoebe suddenly realized Lady Lyndham’s sister was the Rockwood who’d been badly burned in a terrible fire. She’d heard the tragic story about how the woman had barely survived the terrible fire that had cost two family members their lives. Her heart went out to the woman.

“I am feeling much better,” the countess replied as she waved her hand in Phoebe’s direction. “Patience, have you met Lady Helstone? Phoebe, may I present my sister, Lady Patience MacTavish, Mistress of Cairnlarich.”

“How do you do, my lady,” Lady Patience nodded politely at Phoebe. For a fraction of a moment, Phoebe thought the woman was on the verge of saying something else before she turned toward Constance. “Madame Sabine says she intends to create a new gown for Louisa.”

“A new gown?” Constance asked as she arched her eyebrows slightly.

“Apparently, Sabine assigned one of her new apprentice seamstresses to make the dress, and the woman mixed up two different patterns to create that monstrosity. Sabine was as horrified as we were.”

“Oh dear, I hope the poor woman isn’t dismissed.”

“Louisa made it clear to Sabine that she would never shop here again if that happened.”

“And will everything be ready in time for fittings?”

“Sabine said there was more than enough time to create a new dress and finish the rest of Louisa’s trousseau. She’s clearly not willing to lose a client as faithful as Louisa.”

“Good, I was worried we would leave here with her in tears.”

“Our little sister is all smiles at the moment, but she’s quite eager to return to Melton House. Apparently, Ewan is arriving on the afternoon train from Stirling. But she asked that I make certain you’re well enough to go home.”

“I am completely recovered.” Lady Lyndham smiled at her sister as she stood up, and Phoebe rose as well. “In fact, I was just about to invite Phoebe to tea tomorrow before you arrived.”

Speechless once again at the countess’s generous nature where she was concerned, Phoebe shook her head. She couldn’t possibly accept the invitation. While she had no regrets that she was no longer a member of the Marlborough Set, accepting the offer of tea was foolish. Heaven only knew what would happen if Lady Lyndham had another vision. Not to mention the fact she had an obligation to Madame Sabine. Phoebe shook her head.

“That’s very kind of you, my lady—”

“Constance, please.” Lady Lyndham gently chastised her as she reached out to take Phoebe’s hands in hers and squeezed them in a gesture of friendship. “I’ll see to it that Madame Sabine does not object.”

“I really don’t—”