CHAPTER8
A BROTHER TELLS WHAT HE KNOWS
The silence that followed the valet’s pronouncement was so loud, Angelika wondered if she had fainted. She was sure her heart had stopped beating. Her breathing certainly had. Now stars were dancing about in front of her eyes as gray threatened to take her vision.
Andrew’s voice kept her in the here and now, or rather the tone of it. She’d had yet to hear him angry, and at that moment, he was livid.
“Howdareyou mention Lady Phoebe,” Andrew said in a quiet voice filled with menace.
“Who?” Angelika managed to get out, glad for the duke’s body. If it hadn’t been for him, she would have ended up crumpled on the floor.
“Lady Phoebe,” Pruitt whispered, wincing when Andrew jerked. One of his fists was clenched into a ball.
Unable to put a face to the name, Angelika swallowed. The rushing sound in her ears prevented her from hearing anything else, and she did the only thing she could—ran from the room.
She nearly collided with Bronson, whose eyes rounded in alarm.
“Your luncheon is ready, my lady,” he said.
“I do not believe I could keep it down,” she said, heading for the stairs. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but at that moment, she had to be as far away from the Duke of Suffolk as possible. When her vision blurred, she realized she was crying.
How could he?
How could he claim he would marry her and take her virtue when he was already betrothed to someone else?
She had climbed two flights of stairs before she realized it, her labored breathing made more so with her tears.
Richard.
Although he was too young to understand, he would sit quietly and listen. He might ask a few questions, but they would be easy to answer.
She burst into the nursery, tears streaming down her face, to discover her brother at his desk, writing on a slate with a piece of chalk.
Mrs. Cooper turned from her own slate. “Lady Angelika? What is wrong?”
Angelika stared at the nurse for a moment before she said, “I am in need of my brother. Will you excuse him from his lessons?”
The nurse, already coming to her feet to perform a curtsy, said, “Of course, my lady.” Turning to the boy, she said, “Go with your sister. We’ll resume this lesson when you return.”
Richard beamed in delight before he sobered and stood. “Where are we going?” he asked.
Angelika’s shoulders slumped. “The library. We needDebrett’s.” Surely they could determine the identity of Lady Phoebe from the book featuring the names of everyone in the peerage. How many Phoebes of marriageable age could there be?
Blinking, her brother stood and joined her at the door. “I cannot yet read most names,” he warned.
“No, but you can listen,” she countered as they made their way down the stairs.
“Is it true the Duke of Suffolk is in residence?” he asked.
Angelika nearly stumbled on the first step. “How do you know that?”
He gave her a quelling glance. “I’m not deaf,” he said with a huff. “I overheard Cook mention it to Mrs. Cooper when she delivered my luncheon,” he added. “She was quite excited.”
The mention of luncheon had her stomach growling. Spotting Thompkins at the end of the second story hall, she called out, “Have my luncheon brought to the library, will you please?”
The footman blinked and bowed. “Yes, my lady.” He hurried off toward the servants’ stairs as she and Richard made their way down to the first floor.
“What’s happened to make you cry?” he asked, allowing her to grip one of his hands in his. The other slid along the top of the bannister, leaving chalk dust trails as they descended.
