“Ah, that was my fault, Mrs Goodman,” Hayward said, gesturing back toward Phoebe. “I failed to give notice of my visitors. This is Lady Isabella Minnett, my cousin, and her maid, Louisa.”
“Lady Isabella! Oh, my,” the housekeeper hurried forward and curtsied deeply. “I have not seen you since you were no taller than my apron strings.”
“Mrs Goodman, it’s lovely to see you again,” Phoebe said, affecting the lie perfectly with a smile. She liked the housekeeper already; she was a happy and kindly person.
“I see you are just as sweet as you were as a child,” Mrs Goodman said. “Louisa, you are new to me, but I am so pleased to make your acquittance.”
“As I am yours, Mrs Goodman,” Louisa curtsied to the housekeeper.
“Ooh, isn’t she proper! I can’t remember the last time I was curtsied to, no need that for that,” she said with a giggle.
“Mrs Goodman, could you show our guests to some rooms, please?” Hayward asked, gesturing up the stairs. “I was thinking of the guest room overlooking the pond for my cousin.”
“Pond?” Phoebe asked, sounding excited, to which Hayward widened his eyes at her behind the housekeeper’s back. “Ah, yes, the pond. I had quite forgotten there was one.”
“Well, you were very young when you were here last, my Lady,” Mrs Goodman said, not even noticing the error. “I’ll run upstairs now. Louisa, if you come with me, I’ll show you a few things you will need. Once everything is set, I will come and get you.”
“Thank you, you are very kind,” Phoebe said as Mrs Goodman and Louisa hurried off up the stairs. Once they were gone, Phoebe turned her attention to Hayward who was standing in the entrance hall with a smile on his face and his arms folded. “What has amused you now?” she asked quietly once she’d heard a door upstairs close on Mrs Goodman and Louisa.
“I was just thinking that lies are not your strong suit,” he said softly.
“You sound just like your sister,” Phoebe said, folding her arms and mirroring his stance. To her delight, he laughed warmly, it lit up his features, in particular those blue eyes that crinkled with delight.
“That I have been told many times in my life,” he confessed. “Whereas I can never see it. When it comes to lies, you will get better at them. You just need more practice.”
“In truth, I do not like lies,” she said, feeling her smile fade a little as the jest left her. “I associate them with cruelty in this world, I suppose.” She was saddened to see Hayward’s smile vanished at these words.
He took a step toward her and dropped his folded arms.
“Lady Ridlington, rest assured, while you are in my house no cruelty will befall you here. It is not just that I despise any man who would ever harm a woman,” his expression emphasized his words as he screwed up his nose. “But I have offered you sanctuary, and I intend to keep to my word.”
“In truth, I do not think I have ever met anyone with this kindness, Your Grace,” she said, watching as his eyebrows shot up across his forehead. “You barely know me. What if you come to regret your decision? What if the Viscount were to discover our plot?” she asked, feeling her heartbeat quicken and echo in her ears at the idea.
“I would still never regret it,” he said decisively. “Now, I will take leave of you,” he said, pointing toward the top of the stairs where Mrs Goodman was appearing again. “Goodnight,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “Lady Ridlington.”
“Goodnight, Your Grace,” she said, curtsying to him as he bowed. As she turned and headed toward the stairs, she glanced back at him more than once, praying that he was right.
I hope neither of us has cause to ever regret this decision.
Chapter 7
When Phoebe woke, she sat bolt upright in bed, flicking her head back and forth about her chamber. She was half expecting her husband to be standing in the doorway, ready to take her home, probably grasping her wrist painfully all the way. Yet he wasn’t there, her fears had just been nightmares. Instead, all around her was the opulent chamber Hayward had given her.
The cream walls were made of paneled wood and decorated with landscape paintings of green hills and lakes. The ceiling of the room was lofted high above her head and swirled in white molded plaster. Around her, the furniture was just as cream or white, with the occasional accent of gold dappled throughout, on the bed curtains, on the rug before the mantelpiece fire and on a rococo-style settee placed in front of the window.
Phoebe jumped from the bed, unable to let go of her fear just yet and ran toward the settee. Kneeling on the cushioned seat, she peered out of the window. To the far right, she could just see the long, pebbled driveway, where she thought she might see Graham, marching down the drive to come and collect her, yet he wasn’t there.
Her eyes flitted to the view instead, looking over the grand pond that was surrounded by a renaissance style garden, with a fountain in the middle and great luscious borders of flowers.
“I feel I could wake from this dream at any moment,” she whispered to herself.
“Oh, I hope not,” Louisa’s voice disturbed her and made her flick her head round. The maid had just appeared through the door, carrying a fresh bowl of water. “Then I might have to wake up too.”
“Can you believe it, Louisa?” Phoebe said, jumping off the seat and rushing toward her. As Louisa placed the bowl down on a sideboard, Phoebe took hold of her maid’s hands and twirled her round in a circle. “I’m just so happy, so relieved that I don’t have to walk down those stairs this morning and be greeted by Graham’s face!”
“Any more of this, my Lady, and you’ll make me ill!” Louisa laughed, bringing the two of them to a stop.
“I’m sorry,” Phoebe said hurriedly with a giggle. “I’m just so excited.”
