Together, the two women embraced for many minutes, clinging to one another, as Phoebe cried on Louisa’s shoulder. It was some time before she felt at liberty to speak. Louisa had towed her toward the window seat where they sat together, and Phoebe tried to dry her tears with the backs of her hands.
“What happened, my Lady? Has he found us?”
“No,” Phoebe said. “Not yet, but he wrote me a letter. He has vowed punishment for this, and he has vowed to hurt my friends until he finds me. Lady Dodge is in danger! All because of me.” Phoebe took her friend’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “I knew this dream was too good to be true. It cannot last, Louisa. I must go home. I cannot let this go on any longer.”
“I will hear of no such thing.” The voice that entered the room stunned her.
Phoebe whipped her head round to see that in her hurry to find Louisa, she had left the door open. In the doorway, Hayward now stood, his face a perfect picture of anger. Phoebe could feel the power of those blue eyes staring at her.
“Your Grace, this is over,” Phoebe said, standing to her feet, though she still clung onto one of Louisa’s hands. “I cannot risk your sister’s welfare for my own sake.”
“I think if Diana were here right now, she would tell you she is happy to take that risk for starters,” Hayward said as he walked into the room. “That is just the start of this argument though. I could stand here and argue with you for an hour at least and come up with a myriad of other reasons why you should never go back to that man.”
“You read his letter, Your Grace,” Phoebe said, gesturing to him as he closed the distance between them. “You read what he said. Do you think once he discovers where I am he would be any less cruel to you?”
“I’d like to see your husband try to raise a hand toward me, he wouldn’t get far,” Hayward said, crossing his arms together.
“My Lady,” Louisa’s voice prompted Phoebe to turn back to look at her maid. “Please, sit, calm yourself.” Louisa pulled her back down into the window seat, but the tears kept falling. It was as though Phoebe didn’t have control of her own body anymore.
That demon of fear that often used to cling to her shoulders was back, with its talons digging into her, and she couldn’t shake him off.
“Perhaps his Grace is right,” Louisa said with a kindly tone. “You have come so far, and a solicitor is involved now. You can’t give up yet.”
“It’s not giving up, it’s facing reality,” Phoebe said, wiping her cheeks once more.
“Some reality! It’s a horrid existence,” Hayward said so emphatically that Phoebe snapped her gaze back toward him. He dropped down to his knees in front of her then delved in his trouser pocket, beneath where the fencing padding reached his hips. He pulled out a handkerchief, embroidered with his initials in the corner, and proffered it to her. “For your tears.”
“Thank you,” she said and took the handkerchief, mopping her cheeks with them.
“Please, my Lady,” he said gently, inching closer toward her on his knees. “Do not be afraid for Diana. She is perfectly safe. She is unhurt, and I know my brother-in-law very well by now. He was my friend a long time before he married my sister. He will not let any harm come to her. He would sooner die than see that happen.”
Phoebe felt the smallest of smiles flicker through her tears.
“What a kind man he is. That kind of devotion to his wife, I think it a very rare thing to find,” she said, looking down at the handkerchief in her grasp and seeing Hayward’s initials there. She laid a finger over theFsymbol, holding onto it.
“I used to think the same,” Hayward said, his voice soft. “I am not so certain anymore.”
She looked up at him from the handkerchief.
“What does that mean?” she asked in a whisper.
“That is a conversation for another time,” he said, holding her gaze. “What matters now is persuading you to put your trust in me a little longer. I will keep you safe in my house, and Josiah will keep Diana safe. Do not leave yet. Do not give up when we could be so close to getting you the freedom you crave. Trust me, my Lady. Trust me and stay.”
Silence followed his plea.
She didn’t know what to say for a minute. She was just thinking of his words, aware of his handkerchief in one of her hands and Louisa’s grasp in her other hand.
“I trust you,” she whispered eventually, needing him to know that. His serious face relaxed into a smile.
“There, then you will stay?”
“I will stay,” she said, warily, “but…there is something else I must ask of you in order to stay.”
“Anything,” he said. “What is it?”
“Continue with your lessons, in helping me to fight,” she pleaded with him.
“Of course.”
