Page 23 of Lord Gabriel’s Undoing

Still thinking of Gabriel, Phoebe scowled. “Since when did you become such a cynic? I believe in true love, even if you don’t.”

Mattie scowled back. “Of course I believe in true love. And I want the same as you, but suppose one never finds a gentleman to love? Should we take second best? A man who loves us but whom we don’t love? I worry about that, you know. And I do think about the merits of marrying for a prestigious title and a large estate and a huge house in Town. Those sorts of things can be very alluring and might well make up for a certain lack of love.” Her face had taken on a pensive expression as if she were thinking of someone in particular who fulfilled these requirements.

Phoebe’s curiosity was aroused. “Did none of the gentlemen you danced with last night stir anything in your heart?” She was thinking of Gabriel again, of course, who certainly seemed to have stirred something in her. She felt as though he’d invaded her every thought. Not that she was going to tell Mattie. However, he more than likely came under the heading of gentlemen interested in her for her money. If the remote possibility of him liking her still existed after what she’d done to him. So, probably not. Last night’s adventure, or should it be this morning’s, had already retreated into the realms of a confused dream. Perhaps she’d better leave it there and resign herself to never seeing Gabriel again other than across a dance floor.

Mattie, who clearly had been paying scant attention to Phoebe’s mix of expressions, had herself taken on a thoughtful look, her hand to her chin and her gaze faraway. “Well…there were one or two who were quite handsome…” Her voice trailed off and she uttered a little sigh. “And one in particular who is both rich and important.”

“So someone did stir your heart?”

Mattie shook her head. “None of them did that. What they stirred was my desire to have them dance attendance on me and make the other young ladies, and their ambitious mamas, jealous of me. I know I’m the prettiest girl of the Season. More than one of my dance partners told me that, and I’m bound to be very popular. So nothing would please me more than to be the belle of every ball we attend. That would be what I call fun. I certainly don’t intend to settle for the first gentleman who offers for me.” She paused. “Not unless he’s at least a duke…”

Had there been a duke who’d asked her to dance last night? Phoebe’s curiosity deepened.

However, she was well used to her cousin’s lack of modesty, so this statement bothered her little. And besides which, it was quite true. Mattie was far and away the most beautiful debutante of the Season, and yes, gentlemen would flock to her like bees around a scented flower. They certainly had done last night.

Mattie returned from her reverie to the present and fixed mildly accusing eyes on Phoebe. “But what about you? Was there not someone that brought color to your cheeks by his words? Who made your heart skip a beat? I know you’re not the sort of young lady men will run after, but I should tell you that I spied a certain gentleman watching you as you danced with each unfortunate. He seemed very taken with you.”

Phoebe’s heart skipped an unruly beat. Could it be? Might he have feelings for her after all? Although that must have been before she hit him with the cricket bat, of course. Which might well have changed his mind.

Her face might have given something away, because Mattie crowed with delight. “So you do have a fancy for a particular gentleman! I knew it. You are such a fibber, Phoebe Nicholson. Do you want to know who it was gazing at you like that? Do you?”

Heat suffusing her cheeks, Phoebe nodded. She hardly dared to breathe.

Her face wreathed in triumph, Mattie cleared her throat. “It was Viscount Evesham, the Earl of Mandeville’s only son. He would be a triumph indeed for you to snare.”

What?

Phoebe had not forgotten this gentleman’s cold dark eyes and the calculating way in which he’d looked at her. He might be handsome and the heir to an earldom, but he held no attraction whatsoever for her.

Mattie, most likely misinterpreting Phoebe’s stunned silence, chuckled with satisfaction. “Marrying him would make you a countess one day. Because his father is an earl, just like Grandpapa was and Uncle Robert is now. A countess, no less. That would be a splendid match.” She paused. “Nearly as good as becoming a duchess.”

The heat had ebbed from Phoebe’s cheeks and she could feel her lower lip wobbling. She must not cry. That would be such a silly thing to do. Instead, she mustered a false smile. “My goodness. A countess. Who would have thought?”

Chapter Eight

After a light luncheon taken in the breakfast room, Aunt Fanny ushered Phoebe and Mattie into the drawing room. Here, she insisted they should take up positions of what she called “ladylike industry” in case any of the fine gentlemen they’d encountered at the ball took it into their heads to call. It also meant they would keep themselves occupied and not get bored while they waited to see if any of the declarations made the night before stood true.

Phoebe, who was indeed very bored, sat with her embroidery in her lap, praying that no one would come.

Alas, she was to be disappointed.

The first gentleman to arrive, at about four of the clock, was the Duke of Hexham, who’d secured an introduction and a dance at the ball with Mattie. Phoebe regarded him with interest. So this was the duke her cousin had been obliquely referring to. Knowing Mattie she would not put it past her to choose someone like this, despite his advanced age, for all the multitude of benefits it would entail.

With all his wealth, of course, he had no need to consider Phoebe, which came as a great relief as he was both portly and balding and definitely not her idea of the perfect man. Mattie’s look of smug self-satisfaction, however, only barely disguised behind her sewing, was enough to assure Phoebe that her cousin was not of the same opinion and might well have set her cap at becoming a duchess.

His Grace, full of bonhomie and praise for everything about Mattie from her sewing to her gown to the way her hair framed her lovely face, only remained for a short ten minutes. Perhaps he had other young ladies to look over as prospective brides. His first wife, to whom he’d been married for twenty-five years, had not long been dead, so he was clearly finding the idea of renewed courtship a lot of fun.

He was replaced almost immediately by Phoebe’s maternal cousin, Tobias, in the company, for they’d encountered one another on the doorstep, of Mr. Jeremy Wade, Viscount Chatteris’s heir. These were two jolly young men and the conversation between them and Mattie fairly bounced along at a great pace, with much laughter as they discussed the previous night’s ball and all the people they’d seen. Young Mr. Wade proved to have a somewhat acid tongue and was very good at imitating people.

Aunt Fanny, hiding her disapproval of such mocking revelry for the sake of her precious daughter, fairly swelled with pride at what she presumably saw as Mattie’s successful debut into society. Three gentlemen in a row had called upon her, even if one was only nineteen and could be said to have called because he was Phoebe’s cousin, and as such had the hint of business clinging to him.

However…for some reason, Mr. Wade, perhaps because he was a polite young man and had noticed Phoebe’s silence, seemed inclined to engage Phoebe herself in conversation, leaving Tobias able to monopolize Mattie. Not that Mattie appeared to mind. Tobias was indeed excellent company in the way a gamboling puppy would be.

“I say,” Mr. Wade began, settling himself on the settee beside Phoebe. “What a shame I didn’t get to dance with you last night. I should have done so but my mother, bless her, had lined up all sorts of young ladies for me to partner.” He smiled a gentle and rather conspiratorial smile. “You know what mothers can be like.”

“Aunts too,” Phoebe replied, keeping her voice low.

He nodded and gave a rueful smile. “And I daresay I shouldn’t look so odd if I were to dance with you. I hadn’t quite realized how tall your cousin was when I asked her to stand up with me. Makes a man look a bit silly, you know, when the lady’s taller than he is.”