“You must not know Fiona very well if you think we are different there. I’ve never known her not to give it back.”
“Not the same. Not the same at all.”
She was quiet, then, “Sometimes Fiona can be a bit mean-spirited.”
“A bit? Mean-spirited?” Remington drew back, took a moment to modulate his response. “She’s your sister, which is why I did not want to have this conversation, but you pushed and here we are.” He wasn’t sure Phoebe was breathing any longer so he said it quick and matter-of-fact. “Fiona is cruel.”
Phoebe’s lips parted. She stared him. “Not always,” she said on a thread of sound. “Not even very often.”
“I hope you are trying to convince yourself because I’m unlikely to change my mind.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Afraid so.”
“What did she do to you?”
Remington returned his hat to his head and adjusted the brim. “Well, she didn’t hurt my feelings, if that’s what you’re thinking. As for what she did, what she continues to do, you’ll have to hear it from her.”
“We are not talking about oil and water any longer, are we?”
“No. And we are not only talking about me.” Because he’d said more than he meant to, Remington started to rise. He was halfway to his feet when he saw her put out a hand. He stopped. “What is it?”
“Don’t go. It was nice. Before.”
He sat down slowly. “It was nice.” He caught her opening her mouth to speak. “Don’t you dare apologize.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll never know for sure if you’re apologizing for her or for poking the bear.”
“Oh.”
“Uh-huh.”
They were quiet then. Occasionally the swing creaked. A horse whinnied. A cow lowed. But they did not speak. It was deep into that silence that Phoebe stopped hugging her knees and straightened her legs. She used the toe of one of her soft leather ankle boots to poke him gently in the thigh.
Remington gave a small start, looked down at her foot, and then at her. He had no difficulty making out her absurdly wide smile in the deepening shadows. “Full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Half full.” She poked him with the other toe. “All full now.” She laughed, trying to pull back when he made a grab for her foot.
“Not so fast,” he said, circling her ankle with his hand. He didn’t try to pull her close, didn’t try to make the moment into something neither of them was ready for. Instead, he lifted her foot and placed it on his thigh and then did the same with the other. “Just leave them there,” he said, resting his hand over both. “Like that.”
So she did. And fell asleep while he slowly rocked the swing.
Not long after that, the bear returned to hibernation.
Chapter Fourteen
“Don’t be absurd,” said Fiona. “If you won’t choose a proper hat, then we are going to leave here without one.”
“That’s fine.” Phoebe’s tone held no rancor. “Haven’t I been saying we should?” She looked to the milliner, inviting her into the argument, but saw she’d get no help from that quarter. And why should Mrs. Palmer support her? The woman not only wanted to make a sale, but also wanted to keep Fiona Frost as a satisfied customer. Seeing that she had little choice, Phoebe pointed to the red velvet cocked hat that was perched at a roguish angle on a faceless head. The underside was lined in black velvet, and bunches of osprey feathers spilled over the brim. “I like that one.”
Fiona followed the direction of Phoebe’s finger. “That hat? I hope you are not serious. You would look like a pirate.” She turned to Mrs. Palmer. “Don’t you agree?”
Phoebe smiled apologetically at Mrs. Palmer, whose doorknob of a chin was already quivering. The poor woman looked as if she might begin wringing her hands. “She did not mean that the way it must have sounded. It was no slight against your talent, which is considerable. She means that she could carry it off and look quite stunning in it, but if I wore it, someone would try to run me through.” She extended her arm as if she were holding a sword and slashed the air in a large X. “Arrgh.”
“Phoebe! Whatever has gotten into you?” Fiona forcibly lowered Phoebe’s arm as she addressed the milliner. “I hope you will excuse us, Mrs. Palmer, and not judge my sister too harshly. I fear she is not yet recovered.” Her voice droppedto a stage whisper meant not only for Mrs. Palmer but also for the two women loitering in the corner who were hanging on every word. “Theabduction, you understand.”
