“A gentleman of distinction…” Phoebe answered. “A gentleman who is well-known, respected throughout the city, and one who loves me has offered me his hand. I have accepted him.”
Her mother and father exchanged looks that Phoebe had never seen cross their faces before.
This is not at all what I expected.
She had thought when she finally spoke of her engagement to the Duke of Talwyn, her parents might be shocked at first, but then they would surely approve. Sebastian had riches galore,which mattered to her parents, and he loved her, which was all she needed to know.
But this… what are they thinking?
Phoebe could not process their expressions, so she stood there, waiting for one, the other, or both to reply.
When they did, she was stunned.
“Good God,” the Countess cried.
“Our daughter has taken leave of her senses,” the Earl whispered as he lifted his hand to cover his mouth.
“Help!” Phoebe’s mother bellowed. She waved her hands at the staff quickly. “You must help us at once. If we do not get her to the countryside…to the fresh air…then all will be lost.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The evening was quiet when a knock came at Sebastian’s front door. Because he had just arrived at his townhouse after leaving the capable Mrs. Vale to handle matters at his secret abode, he was standing near the entryway when the caller arrived.
Sebastian brushed aside the butler, who hustled forward to answer the door.
“I can handle this,” Sebastian assured his man, then he opened the door to find Lady Genevieve, Phoebe’s cousin, standing there.
Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright and glistening with unshed tears.
“Lady Genevieve?” Sebastian asked, barely disguising the alarm he felt. “It’s late. What brings you here?”
Lady Genevieve wrung her hands. “You must come at once, Your Grace.”
“Is something the matter? Are you unwell?”
He eyed her countenance. Even though her cheeks were pink, the rest of her face was decidedly pale. He also could feel her agitation as she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and took to gripping it tightly.
Lady Genevieve shook her head. “I am fine, Your Grace. But Phoebe. Oh, Phoebe!”
Sebastian blinked, taken aback. “Phoebe—” He paused, his brows knitting. “What has happened to my lady? Is she… Is she…?”
His mind drew a blank. He could not fathom what dire situation would bring Lady Genevieve to his door at this time of day.
“Is she with you?” He asked at last while poking his head out the door and searching for the ladies’ carriage in the growing twilight.
“No…” Lady Genevieve’s voice broke and her lower lip wobbled. “She is certainly not with me.”
Before he could offer some solace or press her to breathe and tell him everything, she reached into her reticule and withdrew a parcel. She thrust forward a small bundle of papers.
The pages were ruffled at the edges as they had been recently torn from a book, but the stack looked nice because it was neatly tied with a ribbon.
“Read these,” she said, her tone still shaky. “It’s all Phoebe’s doing. She gave these to me as a gift because she knows I love her writings.”
Sebastian took the pages, the weight of them immediate in his hands. He glanced at her, curiosity and a trace of concern mixing in his expression.
“Go on,” he said, voice careful, though his mind raced. “Tell me what this is. Why have you brought me these letters?”
Genevieve drew a breath, then dissolved into tears. “Phoebe has been exiled.” She sobbed. Her shoulders heaved as she continued twisting the handkerchief rather than using it to blot her teary eyes. “Her parents sent her away from London. Permanently, I think. And her pendant… They took it from her. Sold it.”
