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“Oh, how lovely,” Phoebe said. “Where did they come from?”
“Lord Dunsbourne. He dropped them off for you, and I had one of the maids put them in water.” Phoebe’s heart began to pound, but her mother paid her no mind. She was slowly turning the vase, examining each blossom. “Lady Bloxley told me that the baron’s mother was a great one for roses, but to think that they are still blooming this late in the season. That really is something.”
“Did . . . did he send a note?”
“He did.” Her mother passed her a small envelope.
Phoebe broke the seal and opened it. The message was short.
Thinking of you, Adam.
She glanced at the window, wishing she could see him still.
“Do you know why Lord Dunsbourne is here?” she asked.
Her mother set the roses on the mantelpiece. “Your father said something about sending apples from our orchard to Dunsbourne Manor to make up for the ones they lost last night.”
Phoebe’s heart swelled. “That was very thoughtful of Father.”
“That is exactly what I said, but he told me it was nothing to what the baron has done for him.” She sat in the chair opposite Phoebe’s and fixed her with a penetrating gaze. “He left to meet with Lord Dunsbourne immediately after sharing that vague yet potent remark, so I should like you to tell me precisely what he means by it.”
Phoebe fiddled with the note in her hands. Caring for Phoebe’s physical wellbeing had been her mother’s sole focus from the moment she had arrived home last night. To her mother’s credit, she had not pressed Phoebe for details regarding her experience at Dunsbourne Manor, and although she must have been teeming with questions, her mother had prioritized Phoebe’s need for sleep over her desire for answers. Phoebe was not sure how much her father would wish her mother to know about his finances or how much Adam would wish her to know about his history with Freddie Payne, but her mother deserved to be told what had happened at the manor last night.
“I will tell you what I can from my perspective,” she said. “But you will need to ask Father for his side of it.”
“Fair enough,” her mother said. She folded her hands upon her knee and waited.
Leaving the details of Adam’s involvement in foiling Payne’s scheme to ruin her father for him to explain, Phoebe told her mother that a villain known to both men had arrived at Dunsbourne Manor bent upon destroying the place. She told of the fire, of her capture by Payne, and of her subsequent rescue by Lord Dunsbourne. She then rehearsed the peril her father had faced before the baron’s intervention outside their carriage.
By the time she finished, her mother was ashen.
“You could have been killed.” Her mother pressed her hand to her throat. “You both could have been killed.”
“Yes. Which is likely why Father made the comment he did about Lord Dunsbourne.”
“Good heavens. The man is a hero.” Her mother was coming out of her initial shock. “He deserves far more than a cartload of apples.”
“My guess would be that the baron considers the apples a perfect payment.”
“That may suit as your father’s form of appreciation, but I am quite sure I can contrive some other way of thanking him.” She appeared to ponder the matter, and Phoebe grew uneasy.
“No lavish celebratory banquet or ball, Mother. Lord Dunsbourne would hate it.”
“There is no need for me to plan anything of the kind. Lady Bloxley’s Autumn Ball is only days away. That will be a perfect location for me to whisper a few words of appreciation.” She rose to her feet. “I am going to ring for tea. After what you have been through, we must do everything we can to build your strength.”
Phoebe was not fully convinced that her mother had put the matter of Adam’s uncelebrated heroism to rest, but it seemed that for now, the subject was closed.
Chapter 31
Adam glanced at his pocket watch. Emily was late. He rose from his chair beside the fire and paced across the study to his desk. It had been five days since he’d held Phoebe in his arms on the hillside, four days since he’d sent her flowers and seen her in the upper window at Charwell Park, and two days since he’d received a basket of pasties and a note in return. He picked up the folded paper on the corner of his desk and read it for perhaps the hundredth time.
Dear Adam,
The roses are beautiful. Their scent fills my room with thoughts of Dunsbourne Manor and of you and Emily.
I am healing well, although my mother is adamant that I must remain indoors a little while longer. She has agreed that I may attend Lady Bloxley’s ball on Saturday, however, and I very much hope that I shall see you and Emily there.
Father tells me that the Charwell Park apples have been transported to Dunsbourne Manor and that you have begun milling once more. I have no doubt you have been working long hours in the cart shed, so I am sending you some pasties—you did say they were your favorite—as I am equally sure you are neglecting your meals.
