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Exactly nine months after Ulrick’s death, Phoebe had given birth to a son who was legally Ulrick’s heir. The fact that the child was undersized—as it would be at a little more than seven months—had not been remarked upon. Not publicly, at least.
In the few months prior to John’s birth, Phoebe and Hugh had been careful to be discreet. The child’s future and Phoebe’s reputation needed to be protected. And although Hugh had desperately wanted to be with Phoebe during her pregnancy, she’d insisted on a separation of some months. She knew how little it took for tongues to wag.
When baby John had been two months old, she’d gone to Bath to take the waters and there had supposedly met the man who would become her new husband.
What a rapturous reunion that had been. After a whirlwind courtship, Hugh and Phoebe had married in a small and joyous ceremony in the village church and although Hugh was just a mere gentleman, he was well respected in the local district—as Phoebe supposed anyone who wasn’t Wentworth, or Ulrick, would be. Increasingly, he was respected on his own merits.
“Mr and Mrs Xavier.” Mrs Withins bobbed a curtsey as she introduced the newcomers, and Phoebe crossed the room with outstretched arms to greet her sister-in-law.
“I believe congratulations are in order, Ada,” she said merrily, with a meaningful look at the girl’s belly. “I’m so glad you were prepared to negotiate the bumps and ruts on that terrible road.”
“Nothing was going to keep me away, even though Robert tried,” Ada replied, with a fond look at her husband. “Besides, what were a few hours of discomfort in order to celebrate this happy moment? I knew Hugh—and you, I hope—would want us here today.”
“You’re very right,” Phoebe said, warmly.
Ada had been a surprising comfort to Phoebe during Phoebe’s separation from Hugh. She’d been ingenious in devising ways in which Phoebe and her brother could meet without the two of them ever formally being connected in any way.
Hugh had, at one time, remarked wryly, that he didn’t wish to plumb too deeply into how his sister had developed her frighteningly impressive ability for subterfuge. Phoebe had replied that, sadly, subterfuge was the only recourse for women at the mercy of controlling men.
Ah, but Hugh hadn’t liked that until she’d cajoled him into more than just forgiveness.
Phoebe turned as two more guests were announced.
“Sir Roderick, a pleasure to see you again,” she said with a small inclination of her head and no smile. “You’ve arrived at the very same moment as your greatest admirer, Miss Smiggle.”
It was indeed auspicious timing that Miss Smiggle was just behind him. The elderly woman’s eyes lit up when she saw Sir Roderick. It was well known that she never let an opportunity pass to hound him on his civic responsibilities.
Phoebe lowered her voice as she told Sir Roderick, “Miss Smiggle is keen to let you know her ideas on animal suffrage. She’s very fond of her dairy cow, you know. I believe it sleeps in the parlour these days. Miss Smiggle—” Phoebe indicated a cluster of chairs to which she directed Sir Roderick—“do take a seat and entertain our eminent magistrate. Thank you Sir Roderick.” She feigned gratitude. “You were always such a gentleman.”
Phoebe didn’t care that he saw the ironic smile she shared with her new husband. She took Hugh’s hand and squeezed it, cradling their baby at the same time and lowering her voice to murmur, “What a joy it will be to watch baby John grow into a man of honour and kindness. A duke, yes, but a real gentleman of whom I can be proud. Just like his father.”
As the room filled with guests wishing to bestow gifts and good wishes upon the baby duke, Phoebe’s heart swelled with pride. All greeted her with respect and even warmth. With her handsome, generous and honourable husband by her side, Phoebe could manage any number of men like Sir Roderick. Hugh offered her protection and loyalty like Ulrick never had.
And a love that was strong and unquestioning.
“To the mother of the new duke,” Hugh whispered in a special toast to Phoebe as he passed her chair to reach his own
when the company proceeded from the drawing room to the dining room. He paused to place a kiss upon the top of her head.
“And his father,” Phoebe responded, not caring who heard, and not caring who saw the warmth of Hugh’s colluding smile as he squeezed her hand.
Because, regardless of right or wrong, the law in this matter was on her side.
THE END
