“Mama?” Phoebe lowered her book onto her lap and peered at her mother with wide eyes.
Today, the Countess looked as if she had spent the night pacing the floorboards. Her hair was slung into a messy chignon, and she wore a morning dress that Phoebe had never seen before.
It was plain and unadorned, certainly the type of frock that one might wear in the privacy of their own bed chamber, but something the Countess of Tripleton would never dream of donning outside of her boudoir.
“Answer your mother,” Phoebe’s father added his own displeasure to the mix.
She looked up to see her father standing near the fireplace. He held a small stack of invitations cards in one hand and a fire poker in the other. Reflexively, Phoebe shrank away from him and burrowed further into the couch cushion.
Phoebe’s mother stood slowly and crossed the divide between them. She towered over Phoebe, using her height as yet another intimidation factor.
“First, you disappeared last night at the ball. Your father and I forgave that impertinence because we could see you were distraught and we did not wish for you to re-enter the room and cause a scene.” She lifted her hand to her head and massaged her temples. “But then, we I awakened, I sent for you and do you know what I was told?”
Phoebe clamped her lips closed, knowing there was no reason to answer the rhetorical question.
“My maid said that you left the house before dawn.” The Countess leaned forward. “Where did you go this morning, Phoebe?”
“I was with Genevieve. I… I went to speak with her.”
“Why?” Phoebe’s mother demanded.
“I had news to share… good news, Mama.”
“The kind that could not wait until a decent hour?” Her father scoffed, showcasing his displeasure easily.
Phoebe shook her head. “Last night was most eventful and…”
“I should say it was,” her mother interjected. “Our family was freed from Lord Birchwood’s suffocating grip, and we managed to snag the attention of several eligible bachelors. I should not be surprised if one were to offer you his hand tonight.”
Phoebe was stunned. She knew what her parents said the night before. She had not forgotten their words. But, once the Duke asked her to be his wife, she simply figured that her parents’ threats were diminished. All she had to do was tell them her good news and then…
“Ring the bell,” Phoebe’s mother said as she tossed a look of annoyance at Lord Tripleton. “We must hurry if we wish to be ready in time to attend the supper Lady Brennan means to host this evening.”
“But… but…” Phoebe spluttered. “We are going somewhere…this evening? I…”
“Thetondoes not hold its breath or wait for you,” her mother snapped waspishly. She nodded at her husband who waved one of the small white cards at them. “Our family has been invited to dine tonight with Lord and Lady Brennan. We shan’t arrive late.”
Lady Tripleton pivoted slightly and stalked toward the door.
Phoebe jumped to her feet. “Must I go with you?”
Her mother turned and gave her a murderous glare. “You must.”
Lord Tripleton propped the fire poker next to the hearth and crossed the room so that he stood at his wife’s elbow. “There will be at least two gentlemen there tonight who have expressed aninterest in getting to know you better. You will smile, simper, and do anything they ask of you. Is that clear, Daughter?”
Phoebe cringed. She wanted to tell them that she would not kowtow to any man…not now. Not anymore. She was to be the Duchess of Talwyn and her Duke, her Sebastian, would save her from ever feeling so belittled ever again.
But she could not summon the words.
While Sebastian had asked her to be his wife and he had promised that they would be together soon, she had known that, for now, other than sharing the blessed good news with Genevieve, she could shout her joy from the rooftops.
There were plans to be made, conversations to be had, and eventually, the Duke meant to approach her father and ask for her hand in a proper manner.
Phoebe felt as if her hands were tied. She wanted to defy her parents, to run straight into Sebastian’s arms and linger there, but she also knew that doing as much would cause people to whisper.
While she did not want to go to any banquet and be paraded in front of all the eligible suitors the ton had to offer, she also would not embarrass herself, her family, or the Duke by stepping out of line.
“I understand,” Phoebe said as she nodded dutifully. “I will do all I can to make you proud this evening.”
