Authors: Vanessa Kelly

His Mistletoe Bride (17 page)

BOOK: His Mistletoe Bride

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Chapter 15

A gloomy silence fell over the coach, discouraging any attempt at conversation. Lucas repressed the impulse to growl at everyone and instead studied the dejected slump of Phoebe's shoulders as she huddled forlornly in the opposite corner. She hadn't said a word since they left the scene of the crime, and refused to even look at him. That, combined with her obvious distress at being discovered in a compromising positionâby her aunt and cousin, no lessâset Lucas on the knife's edge, ready to snap at the first person who dared reprimand her or add to her humiliation in any way.

Finally, Meredith let out an aggravated sigh. “I swear, Lady Framingham's house must be cursed. I for one intend to come down with a migraine before I ever set foot in the place again.”

“Indeed,” Aunt Georgie intoned in a voice of doom. “It would appear that Lady Framingham's affairs lead to an alarming collapse in the manners of my nieces and nephews.”

Phoebe retreated farther into her corner, which shredded Lucas's heart with remorse. Fortunately, Meredith lightened the moment by letting out a surprising burst of laughter. “Well, it
was
horrible when Silverton and I disgraced ourselves at that ball a few years ago, but everything turned out for the best.” She patted Phoebe's arm. “Don't worry, my dear. Aunt Georgie is very adept at deflecting scandal, as is the General. I'm sure people will forget all about it in no time.”

“I find myself loath to contradict you,” Aunt Georgie said, “but Mrs. Brackett witnessed the entire scene in the ballroom and made a point of searching me out and telling me all about it. Quite loudly, as you will recall.”

Meredith scrunched up her nose. “I was trying to forget that.”

“Mrs. Brackett is an old biddy and a terminal gossip,” Lucas growled. “Nobody with an ounce of sense listens to her.”

“Very true,” Aunt Georgie responded in a sarcastic tone. “But they will listen to Lady Harpwell and Mrs. Cherry, both of whom saw you propel Phoebe into that sitting room. I can't even imagine what you were thinking when you did that, my boy. Thank God, Meredith and I interrupted you when we did.”

Lucas clamped down on the retort that sprang to his lips. No matter the provocation, he would not rip up at his aunt, but what she failed to understand was that he would have stopped long before matters progressed to a true state of danger. Phoebe had been so beautiful in her disheveled glory, and so responsive, that he had been hard-pressed not to flip up her skirts and take her on the spot. But he would never treat her so shabbily, and he was perfectly capable of resisting temptationâfor her sake, if no other. And he was damned certain he could have spirited her away from the ball with a lot less fuss and commotion than his interfering relatives.

Phoebe stirred. With a tragic but determined expression, she faced Aunt Georgie. “My dear aunt,” she said quietly, “this was my fault, and I beg your forgiveness for betraying your trust, and for bringing shame onto the family. If you feel it necessary to send me back to America, I will not object.”

Lucas stared across the small space separating them, stunned she could even suggest it. Phoebe would leave England, and him, over his corpse. “Phoebe, you have nothing to apologize for. There will be no scandal, I assure you. I'll handle everything.”

He leaned forward, compelled to touch her, but Aunt Georgie laid a remarkably strong restraining grip on his arm. “Not another word from you, Lucas. I hold you entirely responsible for this debacle, which you can be sure I will communicate to the General as soon as we arrive at Stanton House.”

Irritated, Lucas tried to stare her down, but she just cocked an imperious eyebrow at him. “Well, that has me trembling in my boots,” he said dryly, settling back into his seat.

His aunt gave his arm a small, affectionate squeeze, even though her expression remained stern. “It should. I shudder to think what your uncle might say to you.”

He grimaced, torn between laughter that she thought he would tremble before his uncle's bluster and irritation that she treated him like the greenest of lads. She was right about one thing, though. He had made a hash of everything, and Phoebe would undoubtedly suffer the brunt of his mistakes.

He glanced from Aunt Georgie to Phoebe, who searched his face with a worried gaze. As if to comfort him, she dredged up an encouraging smile, one so sweet and forgiving it made him feel like the greatest cad in the world.

Christ
. That she believed
he
needed comfort only served to illustrate her generous nature, and he couldn't believe he'd ever thought her rigid or judgmental. Well, he'd damn well spend the rest of his life making it up to her. And no one would ever hurt her again.

“Phoebe,” his aunt said, “Lucas is correct about one thing. The Stanton family is certainly used to handling situations like this. Far worse, in fact. I have no doubt we'll be able to brush through with only a modicum of trouble.”

Phoebe gave her aunt a grateful smile, looking relieved. Lucas knew she failed to understand that there was only one way out of this mess, and that was for them to get leg-shackled. Everyone had already realized that except her. Phoebe remained a babe in the woods when it came to understanding how the ton would blow up this incident into the biggest scandal of the Season. All the elements were in place, including the fact that she was an outsider, and a Quaker to boot. The only sure way to protect her was through marriage to him.

The sooner, the better, too. Lucas wanted her away from the London gossips and from his family, who couldn't seem to keep their interfering noses out of his business.

Most of all, he wanted Phoebe to himself, in his arms and in his bed, without any more damn interruptions.

When the carriage came to a halt in front of Stanton House, he handed the ladies out in silence, giving Phoebe's hand an extra squeeze as she stepped down. She sighed and tugged her hand from his grasp. That sliced through him, and he knew it would take time and careful handling to restore her trust in him. Time, unfortunately, was the one thing they didn't have.

They clustered for a moment in the entrance hall as the butler and a footman relieved them of their outerwear. Aunt Georgie gave Phoebe a little push toward the stairs. “Go up to my sitting room with Meredith, my dear,” she said. “I'll be up in a few minutes.”

Phoebe nodded. She threw Lucas a fleeting glance, dipped a sad little curtsy, and fled up the stairs. Meredith shook her head and gave him a wry, understanding look, and then followed her cousin.

“Come, Lucas,” said Aunt Georgie. “Silverton and Robert should have arrived home by now with Annabel, and are no doubt waiting with your uncle. It's time you faced the firing squad.”

Phoebe stood in the window alcove in her aunt's sitting room, peering out at the night-shrouded garden. Darkness obscured everything but she looked anyway, pretending to be fascinated by the clipped hedges and leafless rosebushes barely visible under the thin November moon. She burned with humiliation, not yet ready to face Annabel and Meredith, who sat together on the chaise longue in front of the chimneypiece.

She heard the rustle of silk skirts behind her and sighed, wishing she could put off this conversation forever. How could she ever begin to explain her behavior when she could barely fathom it herself? But when Lucas had kissed her so passionately, she had returned his embrace with every ounce of longing in her soul, forgetting all her unanswered questions. Only now, when he was no longer seducing her into the warmth of his arms, did she realize he had not answered a single one.

And he had not told her he loved her.

Meredith's hand rested on her shoulder, gently urging her to turn around. “Come and sit down, Phoebe. You can't hide in the alcove forever. I know because I tried it once myself.”

Phoebe cocked an eyebrow in silent enquiry, and Meredith responded with a generous smile. “Once I stood in this room much as you are now, waiting for the wrath of the Stanton family to fall on my head. It didn't, of course, and nothing bad will happen to you, either.”

“What did you do?” she asked, allowing Meredith to draw her over to the chaise.

“She and Silverton were very bad indeed,” Annabel chipped in, springing up from the chaise to allow Phoebe to take her place. Phoebe sank down, suddenly aware of how very exhausted she felt. Would this dreadful night never come to an end?

“I cannot imagine that Meredith was caught kissing in the anteroom,” she muttered. Her cheeks flushed with shame at the mental picture of Meredith and Aunt Georgie standing in the doorway of the little room, their mouths agape. After that, everything was rather a blur, including their ignominious exit. They had not managed to escape without observation, and Phoebe had all too clearly heard giggles and whispers from more than a few guests lingering in the hallway and on the stairs.

“Oh, it was much worse than that,” Annabel insisted. “Meredith waltzed with Silverton without first receiving permission from the patronesses of Almack's.”

Phoebe stared at her. “You must be joking.”

“Sadly, no,” Meredith replied.

Phoebe shook her head. “London is the oddest place one could ever imagine.”

“It is, but the point is that it all worked out for me, as it will for you.”

“How?” Phoebe almost dreaded the answer.

“Eventually I married Silverton.”

Her stomach took a sickening drop. “Are you saying my only course of action is to marry Lucas? When he does not even love me?”

“Are you sure about that?” Annabel asked. “His actions speak otherwise.”

Phoebe shook her head. “He does not.”

Meredith sat down next to her and took her hand. “Why do you think that?”

“Because he said so,” she answered miserably.

The sisters exchanged a startled glance. “What exactly did he say?” Meredith asked in a wary voice.

“He said he was not a boy, and he no longer engaged in such foolishness.”

Meredith groaned. “What an idiot. Let me guess. You asked him about Esme, didn't you?”

Phoebe nodded.

“It's a good thing that woman lives in Scotland, or I would have to murder her,” Meredith groused. “She has been the cause of a great deal of trouble in this family.” With a firm look in her eye, she took Phoebe by the shoulders, forcing her to meet her gaze. “Phoebe, listen to me. Lucas suffered a devastating hurt as a young man, and he's only now letting it go. And he's letting it go because of
you
. He may not yet be able to say he loves you and, frankly, most men choke on the word. But I'm convinced his affection for you is genuine and strong.”

Phoebe knew what they wanted her to say, but she hesitated, still worried Lucas wished to marry her for all the wrong reasons.

After several long moments, Meredith sighed and removed her hands. “I don't think I'm convincing you, am I?”

Phoebe gave a helpless shrug. “Never marry but for love, but see that thee lovest what is lovely.”

“Another quote from Mr. Penn, I presume,” Meredith said, wrinkling her nose.

“And a pretty one, too. But not very useful in our current situation,” Aunt Georgie interjected.

They all looked around as the older woman entered through the door from her bedroom. Blushing, Phoebe jumped up from the chaise.

Her aunt gave her a faint smile. “Sit, my child. Meredith, be so kind as to allow me to sit next to your cousin.”

When Meredith rose from the chaise, Aunt Georgie took Phoebe's hand and drew her down beside her.

“Phoebe, the time for beating around the bush is past. We must speak franklyâwoman to womanâabout Lucas and your future.”

Her aunt's words set the nerves in Phoebe's stomach dancing with anxiety. “How . . . how is Lucas? I hope my uncle was not too harsh with him.”

Aunt Georgie gave a snort. “The General gave him a rare trimming. That I expected, just as I expected Lucas wouldn't take it very well. For a moment, I thought they would come to blows.”

The wry smile on her aunt's face told Phoebe how unlikely that was, but the idea that Lucas and Uncle Arthur had violently argued sickened her. This terrible drama and discord was her fault.

Well, to be fair, Lucas must also share the blame. Both for that scene in the ballroom and afterward, when he dragged her into the anteroom and kissed her. But she should have been strong enough to resist the temptation he posed. Now, because of her weakness, another breach had opened in the Stanton family.

“What happened next?” she asked, fearing the answer.

“Something surprising. Silverton stepped up and defended Lucas.”

That stunned them all into silence for several moments.

“Truly?” Phoebe finally managed.

BOOK: His Mistletoe Bride

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