Lady in Demand (12 page)

       “Could we leave soon, Livvy? I’m weary as I’m sure you are.”      

“Yes, dear, we can and I must admit that you are right, I am tired.”

With good reason, Phoebe thought. They had obviously not told anyone about the baby yet, deciding to tell Will’s family first and then everyone else. The Duke and Duchess of Rossetter were due in London within the next few weeks, and with them would come Will’s sister, Thea, who was Bella’s best friend.

“Phoebe and I are ready to leave, Will,” Livvy said to her husband.

She watched her brother-in-law immediately move to his wife’s side, food forgotten, his only concern now Livvy.
 

“Of course. Good evening, Woolly, Finn, Miss Wooller.”

Phoebe heard the rumble of goodbyes as she bent to kiss Hannah’s cheek.

“I shall see you at eleven o’clock tomorrow. We will visit Will’s warehouse,” Phoebe whispered in her ear.

“I shall hardly sleep with the excitement of it all.”

“Nor I,” Phoebe added.

 
“Good evening, Woolly.” Phoebe then said, moving towards him after leaving Hannah.
 

“Good evening, Phoebe,” he said, pulling her into a warm hug which made her smile.
 

“Papa, it is not done to hug woman you hardly know.” Hannah’s said, exasperated, which made her father harrumph.

“Yes, it is,” Phoebe said, patting his cheek. “It’s lovely,” she added, turning to leave.

“Good evening, Lord Levermarch.” Phoebe added the last because it would be blatantly rude if she did not and she did not want to draw any further attention to her dislike for the man.

      “Good evening, Miss Langley.”

      She felt his eyes on her as she walked from the room and wondered why it hurt so much that she could never be the woman he wanted, especially as she would never be happy married to a man who had so little respect for her.

CHAPTER NINE

       As the carriage traveled slowly through the busy streets towards Hannah’s town house the following morning, Phoebe looked up at the darkening sky. London had woken to an overcast day and rain looked imminent before its end. The streets would soon be a muddy mess, and Phoebe hated both rain and mud so she would just as soon be tucked inside than walking in it when the deluge began.

      Yawning, she looked at her reflection in the window. The bruise on her face was darker today. Sally had been unable to cover it completely and it matched the smudges under her eyes, anyway. She’d spent a sleepless night thinking about a horrid beast of a man who had made her feel alive with just a kiss, and then danced with the woman he would likely marry. It was almost as if with the touch of his lips and hands he had turned her into another person, as if her skin had resettled on someone else and now she was very aware of parts of her that she had not been before. She had woken twice with her nightdress twisted around her hips. Her breasts felt sensitive and heat pooled in places Phoebe thought it shouldn’t, and her head had filled with vivid sensual images.
 

She needed to stay away from Finn from now on. Away from his blue-eyed, heated looks and large muscled body. Phoebe would not feel any more flutterings inside her body, nor would she seek him out in the evenings. He was no longer someone she would associate with.
 

She pushed these disturbing thoughts aside as the carriage pulled to a halt outside a large white house set back from the road behind an impressive pair of black gates that met in the middle to form a gold lion. Stepping down to open them and walk through, Phoebe heard her leather boots crunch on the small stones as she made her way past the gardens. No neat rows of blooms here; the flowers were planted all over the place creating a riot of color with little or no formation. Climbing the steps, she then lifted the large brass knocker, also a lion. The butler opened the door and looked like every butler she had ever known, rigidly upright with no expression on his face.
 

      “I’ve called to see Miss Wooller.”

      “Of course. Come this way if you please, Miss Langley.”

      Phoebe thanked him and stepped inside. Soft cream walls greeted her, and she looked around the interior of the entranceway as she followed the butler. Pictures were placed in no order, big, small, square, or oval along the walls. Stopping before one, she looked closer and saw some kind of animal with three legs and an extremely long snout.

“That was painted by Miss Bridgette,” the butler said, noticing she had stopped.
 

Phoebe saw other childish paintings as she continued walking, nestled amongst others painted by artists of some repute. A long, low table held numerous ornaments, some animals, others figurines, all grouped together in no formation. It was a home with a heart and she knew a lot of that was attributed to the people who lived here. It was welcoming and comfortable and not concerned with appearance, only the comfort of those lucky enough to live within its walls. Different varieties of flowers were jammed into vases, offering a burst of color here and there.

      They reached another door that the butler opened and announced her arrival.

“Miss Langley has arrived, my lord.”

      “Good morning, Phoebe. Tis a shame you have decided to venture out on such a miserable day, my dear.”

      Lord Wooller came toward her as she entered the parlor, a wide smile on his face.

“We shall return before the rain sets in I’m sure, Woolly.”

 
Of course he didn’t take her hand and Phoebe braced herself for the hug she knew was coming. He smelled of coffee and spice and the lovely scent of comfort. He then lifted her chin and inspected the bruise.      “Before Hannah comes, I wanted to say thank you for looking after my girl, Phoebe, as I did not get the chance last night. She told me about that incident in the ladies’ rooms, and I was chuffed when I heard how you slapped that uppity Lady Croxley.”

      “Oh, well it is not something I would normally do, my lord,” Phoebe said.

      “Tis something to me, my girl,” he said, taking her shoulders in his big hands and looking at her. He had lines around his eyes and a mouth that suggested he knew how to laugh, and a way of really looking at a person, almost as if he could see the things no one but she saw: the insecurities and the scares she carried from events in her past.
 

      “You’ve suffered much, Phoebe Langley, and I’m not talking just of that bruise on your face which Hannah told me was from a fall. I can see it there in the depths of your eyes. I know this and can only commend you for fighting through all that pain to become the woman I see before me. Your sister is the same. You’re strong women.”

      “Please,” Phoebe tried to push aside his words. “Everyone has their burdens, Woolly.”

      “Losing your parents is never easy, girl, nor watching your sister suffer,” he said and she wondered how he knew so much about her. “Now you listen to me, Phoebe, and listen well.”

      “I’m listening,” Phoebe whispered because the look in his eyes told her she should.

      “I know you have a family who love you, Phoebe, but I want you to know that the Wooller’s house is now your house, should you ever need it, as are the people who live inside it. And if you at any time need our support you have only to send word, girl, and we will be there.”

      “Oh, dear.” Phoebe pressed her gloved hands to her eyes. “I don’t like to weep in front of people. Actually, I don’t like to weep at all.”

      “Well you’ve no need to be strong in front of the Woollers.”

      “B-but you barely know me,” Phoebe whispered.

      “I know that my daughter already sees you as her trusted friend and that is enough. And if I didn’t know that, then I would know that your sister is a lovely lady and her husband cannot speak highly enough of you.”

      “Why are you making that lady cry, Papa?”

      This had to be Bridgette, Phoebe realized, as Lord Wooller released her to face the young imp walking towards them. She was tiny, with a riot of red curls that had a white satin ribbon wound through them. Eyes the color of sapphires were watching Phoebe intently as she walked towards Lord Wooller, who was holding out one hand.
 

      “Bridgette, this is Phoebe and she is a friend to both your sister and I.”

      The girl gave Phoebe a thorough going over from the tip of her head to the soles of her feet, and then she sank into a curtsy. When she rose, she was smiling and the effect was startling. Her entire face seemed to light and two dimples appeared in her cheeks.
 

      “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Langley.”

      “Good girl.” Lord Wooller patted her head.

      Hannah arrived seconds later, looking cool and elegant in cream and mint green.
 

      “Can I come with you, please, Hannah?”

      Shaking her head Hannah gave Phoebe’s hand a squeeze before saying, “Not today, Bridgette but I shall take you out later, as I promised, and Papa is here.”

      “I wish to go now.”

      Phoebe looked at the mulish expression on the girl’s face and then to Hannah, who rolled her eyes.

      “We have thrashed this topic to death since you jumped on my bed and woke me before the sun rose, infant. Therefore, I have no wish to do so again, and if you persist I shall retract my invitation to the Royal Amphitheatre which I believe Papa has already purchased tickets for.”

      “No! Has he really?” Wide-eyed Bridgette looked at Lord Wooller, who nodded but wisely remained silent.

      “So be a good girl and do your lessons while I am gone, and we shall take Pumpkin for a walk this afternoon,” Hannah said, kissing Bridgette’s head.

      “Pumpkin?” Phoebe questioned as they made their way outside to where the carriage awaited.
 

      “A large, ginger bulldog that makes the identical sound to my father and I when we laugh.”

      “I wish I’d met him.”

      “I’m sure you will,” Hannah said, stepping into the carriage.

      Once they were underway, discussions fell to their business plans.

      “As I lay in bed unable to sleep in the early hours of the morning, I thought of a name, Hannah.”

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

Phoebe waved her hand about. “Too many thoughts. However, that is not important, the name is.’

“Well, what is it?” Hannah demanded after at least two seconds had passed.

“Madame Alexander’s.”

Hannah didn’t speak, so Phoebe forged ahead with her explanations.
 

“It is French,” she ticked off on one finger. “It is a grand name and one that will look lovely on our shop window.”

“Boutique window,” Hannah qualified.

“Boutique window,” Phoebe said. “And it’s…French,” she added again because she couldn’t think of another reason now when last night she’d had at least five.

“Yes, I like it.”

“Really?”

“No, I lied.”

“Oh,” Phoebe felt deflated.
 

“Goose, I’m teasing. I do actually really like it.”

“You sounded very convincing,” Phoebe said as the carriage pulled up outside the warehouse.

“I lie very well also.”

“Duly noted.” Phoebe took a deep breath of sea air as she and Hannah stepped from the carriage

“Make haste please, ladies,” Luke said, coming forward and offering his arm to Phoebe and Hannah. “And you, Sally,” he added over his shoulder to Phoebe’s maid.
 

      “Who is he?” Hannah said as Luke released them to open the door to Will’s warehouse, and then ushered them inside.

      “It’s far too complicated to explain now. I shall do so another time,” Phoebe said moving through the door.

      “Oh, my!”

      Remembering just such a reaction from her the first time she had seen it, Phoebe laughed as Hannah stood wide-eyed looking around her.
 

      “Why has my father never brought me here?”

      Long trestle tables were filled with goods, ranging from fabric to other items. It was a riot on the senses and Phoebe loved it.
 

      “Hello, Ladies.”

      Phoebe kissed Will’s cheek as he came to her side. Together, they watched Hannah move along the fabrics.
 

“Look at that silk, Phoebe!”

“I can see it, Hannah.” Phoebe and Will walked with Hannah and discussed what they would need in the coming days, and Phoebe felt her excitement rise again. This was her future; she needed no man in her life to find happiness.
 

      “As I explained before we arrived, it is a sound proposition and one that will yield strong dividends, brothers,” Finn said as they left the meeting of the locomotive consortium.
 

      “I’m in,” Ben said enthusiastically. “I spoke with Mr. Trewness and he will send around the paperwork for me to sign within the next few days. It sounds as though it will be highly profitable, once things are established.”