‘But if you don’t tell me, who will?’ Sophie grumbled. ‘I can’t ask anyone else.’
Phoebe flushed faintly, searching for words that might satisfy her inquisitive sister.
‘To be honest, dearest,’ she began slowly, glancing down at her post, ‘I do believe you will much prefer to discover the… mysteries of marital relations within the… precious union of?—’
‘Oh, enough already!’ Sophie exclaimed, throwing her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I cannot bear it when you start talking like an encyclopaedia! I swear you are the oddest sister in the world,’ she chastised. ‘Fiercely independent for yourself, while wrapping the rest of us up in so many layers we can barely breathe.’
‘Well I am the eldest—’ Phoebe began.
‘And I am barely two years younger than you, and quite ready for the world, thank you very much!’ Sophie retorted.
‘I know,’ her sister replied with a faint smile.
‘Speaking of which, there’s a letter here for you,’ she added in a brighter tone.
She pulled a pretty cream envelope from the pile of post on her skirt and waved it. ‘It bears the Hampton seal.’
‘Isabella or Ursula!’ Sophie predicted, jumping up to grab the missive from her sister’s outstretched hand.
‘And,’ Phoebe continued, picking up an open letter, ‘it looks as though our darling eldest brother did actually have the forethought to ask if the tribe could stay while he investigates hissweet runnersfor the Newmarket races.’
She frowned, turning the letter round and round in an effort to decipher her brother’s crossed scrawl.
‘Did he actually send the letter with them?’ Sophie asked incredulously. ‘How very considerate of him, given the fact you’re about ready to take off on honeymoon.’
‘I’m just impressed he remembered to ask at all,’ Phoebe replied, chuckling. ‘He must have his eye on some rank outsider who’s going to restore the Fairfax family fortune.’
‘I thought the viscount had done that already?’
‘Sophie!’ Phoebe chastised.
Sophie clamped her hand to her mouth, her eyes dancing. Phoebe had shared the viscount’s dowry-waiver in a moment of sisterly confidence before her wedding and, in truth, it had only made Sophie respect her brother-in-law more.
What more evidence of true love could there be?
‘You know Knightswood is still heavily encumbered,’ Phoebe continued, ‘and Thomas is convinced his Monstrous Marriage Masterplan will ensure its survival.’
‘I know,’ Sophie replied, rolling her eyes, ‘and we all have our part to play.’
‘All I was saying was that it’s frustrating to see our eldest brother is still offloading his responsibilities. I mean, you’re barely married and I’m only just out. Damerel House really shouldn’t be a dumping ground for all Fairfax waifs and strays! What must the viscount think for goodness’ sake?’
Phoebe chuckled. ‘He doesn’t mind because I don’t mind,’ she replied.
‘I love it when we’re all under the same roof, it makes me feel as though we might be back at Knightswood,’ she added. ‘And as you say, Alexander and I leave for our honeymoon at the end of the week so what difference does it really make? You’re the only one I worry about,’ she finished, popping a cream macaroon into her mouth.
‘Me? I’m the one most able to take care of myself!’ Sophie replied indignantly.
‘And also the one making inappropriate wagers with rakish bachelors of the ton!’ Phoebe retorted. Sophie scowled as Phoebe reached for another macaroon. ‘Anyway, Aunt Higglestone has agreed to come up a little earlier than planned. She’s bothhighly flattered and excessively excitedabout escorting you toall theglamorous balls and soireesuntil I’m back,’ she added with a grin.
‘Thanks so much!’ Sophie groaned. ‘She’ll be forever telling me to straighten my shoulders and mind there’s no mention of mud.’
They eyed each other briefly, before the reference to their chaotic stay in Bath with their aunt saw them descend into fits of laughter.
‘Just promise me you won’t fall in love while I’m gone,’ Phoebe managed to say, wiping her eyes. ‘At least, not with anyone wholly inappropriate.’ There was a moment’s silence while they both acknowledged the small void that still existed between them, even though Captain Damerel had been gone for months. ‘In truth, I really wish I could be here,’ she added.
‘No, you don’t!’ Sophie returned crossly. ‘For you are to skip off to the continent on your long-awaiteddream of a honeymoon, leaving me stuck in Aunt Higglestone’s exceedingly respectable bourgeois lodgings, being harried and tormented by our younger siblings. Undoubtedly, I shall end up marrying any old country squire just to escape boggle-eyed toads and all my best bloomers being used as kites!’
‘Sophie!’ Phoebe gasped, using a cushion to muffle her gasps.
