A Matter of Convenience, page 5
Once his mother had shut the door behind her, he pulled Phoebe’s list from where he’d tucked it in the top drawer.
He couldn't bring himself to throw it away. It didn’t matter that he'd already refused her offer, and the matter was done. He didn’t seem able to set it aside.
Once again, he read through the list. Each item noted was true. But the one missing continued to bother him.
Did Phoebe hold any affection for him? What did it say that even after their kiss, he didn’t know?
Uncertain of the answer, he returned the paper to the drawer, closing it firmly as he rose. If only he could shut away his thoughts about her as easily.
PHOEBE WANDERED ALONG a path in the MacDonald Garden with Amanda and their mother not far behind. The afternoon was perfect for a garden party, and she was thoroughly enjoying the peaceful beauty of the terraced landscape with its delightful combination of uniformity and whimsy.
The roses and gardenias were already in bloom and so beautiful that she longed to sketch them. Though not particularly skilled at drawing, she enjoyed trying.
“Phoebe.”
She looked up to see her friend, Lady Harriet Persimmons, also a member of the Mayfair Literary League, approaching. “Good afternoon, Harriet. I didn't expect to see you here.”
Guilt filled Phoebe as she remembered Harriet’s message that she hadn’t replied to regarding the outcome of her bold move.
“Mother changed her mind at the last minute and wanted to come. I'm pleased we did.” Harriet smiled as she admired the luscious foliage. “I haven't been here before and had no idea how extensive the gardens were.”
“We have come to the party every year for the past three,” Phoebe said as she followed Harriet’s gaze. “I never grow tired of all there is to see. Even the birds and butterflies are out for the occasion.”
“Several benches look like the perfect spot to read. Can you imagine enjoying one of our latest selections here?” She glanced about as if to make certain no one else was nearby then leaned close. “Do you have news of your For Better or Worse mission?”
Phoebe looked back to see her sister and mother had paused to admire a climbing vine a short distance away. Thank goodness neither of them knew what she’d done. If only another league meeting was scheduled soon so she didn't have to tell each member individually about her failure.
The best she could do was share the results with her head held high despite the tightness in her chest. “I’m sorry I haven’t replied to your message. I went through with my plan but unfortunately, he refused.”
“I am so sorry to hear that.” The sympathy in Harriet's blue eyes brought Phoebe’s hurt to the surface. “I had hoped it would be successful.”
“Apparently, it wasn't meant to be. However, I am pleased I did it. Now I know.” Phoebe cleared her throat, hoping the knot of emotion there would dissolve.
“Have you seen Lord Bolton since? I wondered if it might be terribly awkward when you spoke with him again.”
“Actually, he was at the Ferguson Ball the other evening, and he was kind enough to mention that he hoped I wasn’t upset.” While that part was true, she had yet to understand why he’d taken her out to the terrace, let alone kissed her.
Men were far more confusing than she’d realized.
“How kind.” Harriet’s eyes widened with surprise. “You must matter for him to go to the effort. Did you feel better afterward?”
“Yes.” Heat filled Phoebe’s cheeks at just how much better she’d felt after their encounter.
Thoughts of their kiss had stolen into her dreams. Even now, the memory tempted her to wave a hand before her warm cheeks.
“Have you thought any further about your own plan?” Phoebe asked, more than ready to shift the subject from herself.
Harriet pressed a hand to her middle and briefly closed her eyes. “I have,” she admitted. “But I don't know if I am as brave as you. Each time I picture myself going through with it, I feel rather nauseated.”
“If it's any consolation, that is how I felt as well. But the risk is better than always wondering what might have been. Don’t you agree?”
Harriet nodded though doubt furrowed her brow.
“It is completely up to you whether you proceed,” Phoebe said gently. “But I do hope you accept the challenge. Practicing what to say ahead of time was helpful.”
“Practicing what?”
Phoebe’s breath caught at the familiar male voice behind her, casting shivers along her skin. She spun to see Anthony standing directly behind them. She'd been so concerned with reassuring Harriet that she hadn't noted his approach. Then again, she hadn't expected him to be there.
As if realizing he’d surprised them both, he bowed and smiled, offering a hint of those dimples. The sight of them caused Phoebe’s stomach to dance. “My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you. I hope the day finds you both well.”
“Good afternoon, my lord.” Harriet dropped into a curtsy as did Phoebe.
“It does indeed.” Phoebe felt positively breathless when his gaze lingered on her. Somehow, she was certain he was thinking of their kiss.
“Now then,” he said. “What are you practicing?”
Harriet looked at Phoebe with eyes wide as if she dearly wanted to escape.
Phoebe resisted the urge to reach for her hand to keep her in place. “We were wishing we could practice our sketching here in the garden. It's so beautiful.” She sent Harriet a pointed look with the hope she would agree.
Her friend nodded enthusiastically. Perhaps with too much enthusiasm.
“Understandable. There’s much to see.” Anthony turned to glance at the flowers as if just now noticing them. “Do you enjoy drawing?”
“Yes, though it can be frustrating,” Phoebe replied. Much like Anthony’s appearance. Didn’t he realize she needed time away from him to gain control over her feelings? “Is Viola with you?”
Anthony looked over his shoulder, and Phoebe saw that both his sisters and his mother were nearby visiting with friends. “Yes. I was also hoping for a moment of your time.”
Harriet looked back and forth between the two of them with obvious fascination about what might happen next.
Phoebe wished she could reassure her that Anthony only wanted to discuss Viola’s interest in Lord Stanwyck. That was the only reason that made sense.
After an awkward moment, Harriet cleared her throat. “If you’ll both excuse me, I must check on my mother.”
Phoebe nodded. “I look forward to speaking with you later.”
“Have you seen Stanwyck here?” Anthony asked once Harriet had departed.
“No, I have not.” A wash of disappointment swept through her. It didn’t matter that she’d guessed the reason he’d approached her. A tiny part of her still held hope that he’d suddenly changed his mind about her proposal.
Darn that tiny part.
“That’s a relief. I was worried the reason Viola wanted to attend was to see him. Do you know why she’s suddenly so interested in the rake?”
“Not really. Amanda and I noticed them talking last week at the Masterson Ball.”
“Hmm.” Anthony scowled. “I can’t say I understand his appeal.”
“It can be flattering when a gentleman seeks you out, regardless of the reason.” Phoebe understood that all too well. She couldn’t deny that Anthony speaking with her, regardless that it was about Viola, was pleasurable.
“Oh?” His gaze held on her, and she decided she might as well speak her mind.
“He might be a rogue, but he has a certain charm. I wonder if she hopes to save him.”
Anthony scoffed. “Much like my mother attempted with my father. Though she failed since he continued with his wicked ways and resented her to the end.”
Phoebe blinked in surprise. While aware his parents’ marriage wasn’t a happy one, she didn’t know the details. “I’m sorry to hear that. And I appreciate that you intend to make certain Viola’s outcome is different. But I must advise you that ordering her not to see him only makes him more appealing in her eyes.”
Anthony sighed, his lips twisting to one side. “You may be right,” he said at last. “But I can hardly turn away and allow her to make a mistake. One for which she’ll have to pay for the rest of her life.”
Being ruined was nothing to treat lightly. Society was not forgiving when it came to such things. It would reflect poorly on the entire family as well. However, there were other ways to work around Viola’s newfound stubbornness.
“May I offer a suggestion?” Phoebe asked.
“Please.” He looked almost relieved as he glanced around. “Would you care to walk as we converse?”
“Of course.” Phoebe realized several others, including her sister, were watching them with curious expressions. She led the way along a narrow path that bordered a line of bushes trimmed into rectangular shapes.
Anthony followed at a slower pace, only joining her once they had rounded the corner, moving them out of sight from many of the guests. “You were saying?”
“Perhaps instead of telling her how she’s wrong, you could mention your concerns in a more casual manner.”
“How do you mean?”
“Rather than insisting she keep her distance from him, you could remark on his tendency to treat his sister, Lady Elizabeth, poorly.”
“Does he?”
“Very much so. You may not have noticed, but I’m certain Viola has. Lady Elizabeth was in tears at a ball last week because of something he said.” Phoebe appreciated how concerned Anthony was for his sister even if he didn’t deal with it very well.
“Interesting.”
“Why don’t you care for him?” She waved a gloved hand in dismissal. It wasn’t any of her business. She didn’t need to become more involved. “Whatever the reason is, pose it as a question to Viola.”
“You truly think this will help change her mind?”
“When one is made aware of a less-than-admirable trait, it becomes impossible not to notice it.”
“As is true for the opposite.” Anthony turned to face her, his blue eyes brilliant beneath the black brim of his hat.
Phoebe caught her breath, not sure what he meant, and unwilling to ask.
“Should I apologize for kissing you the other night?”
What an impossible question. “That’s not necessary.” Especially when she would very much like to repeat it.
How unfortunate when she knew the more time she spent with Anthony, the more she liked him. The situation was growing dire. If she weren’t careful, she was going to be hurt more than she already was.
“I should return to my mother and sister. They’ll be wondering what became of me.” She made to step past him, only to stop when he reached out to touch her bare arm. His touch hummed along her skin.
Oh, dear. She was definitely in trouble.
“Thank you, Phoebe. You’re a good friend.”
Friend? She swallowed hard at the term, not caring for it in the least. “As are you,” she managed.
“I’m pleased you weren’t offended by my behavior, because I would enjoy kissing you again.” His quiet words stole her breath.
For the life of her, she didn’t know what to say. Was she supposed to agree? Disagree? Act as if it didn’t matter? “Oh?”
“Indeed.” He smiled, those dimples in full display and somehow at odds with the heat in his eyes.
At a loss for words, she forced a polite smile, curtsied, then turned away only to turn back. “How...interesting.” She forced herself to hold his gaze, wanting him to know she was intrigued by what he said even if she didn’t understand it. “I do believe I hear my mother calling.” She spun away to walk back along the path to join her family, unsettled in every possible way.
Chapter Seven
Anthony strode into White’s on St. James’s Street that evening with the hope of finding a distraction. Something—anything—to take his mind off Phoebe. Since their interlude in the garden that afternoon where he’d apparently lost his mind once more, he had thought of nothing except her.
Why had he said he’d like to kiss her again? Of course, it was true, but admitting it seemed a terrible idea in retrospect.
He’d only meant to thank Phoebe for helping with Viola and ask her opinion. When she’d mentioned that pointing out Stanwyck’s flaws might help Viola notice them, he’d realized the opposite was also true. Phoebe was the perfect example.
He hadn’t noticed her many fine qualities or how well they might suit until she’d brought them to his attention. However, her list was far from complete. There were even more reasons they would make a good match.
Since her proposal, he continually pondered her intelligence and loyalty as a friend, not to mention her kindness. Then there were the green and gold flecks in her eyes, the smoothness of her skin, and the generous curves her gowns couldn’t hide. And he would be remiss if he didn’t add her luscious lips to the list.
He nearly groaned at the path of his thoughts.
“You look as if you’ve had poor news.” Viscount Garland approached with a half-empty glass in hand. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Please.” Anthony nodded and followed his friend from their university days to a table.
With dark good looks, being the heir to an earldom, and wealth, Garland was a highly sought-after bachelor. Rumors suggested he’d had numerous affairs, though he preferred the company of widows or actresses who offered fewer complications.
The viscount came from a large family that provided a limitless supply of amusing stories which he delivered in a droll tone. He kept the conversation light as the waiter brought Anthony a whiskey.
Anthony took a sip, appreciating the smooth, smoky flavor, as his mind slowly cleared after listening to another humorous tale about Garland’s younger brother attempting to ride a horse.
“Better?” his friend asked with a smile.
“Much.”
“Care to share what has you out of sorts this evening?”
“Women.”
“Ah. Say no more, my friend.” Garland lifted his glass in a mock salute. “I completely understand.”
“I’m pleased one of us does as I find myself confused.”
“Family or...?” His dark brow lifted.
“Both.” His upset had more to do with Phoebe than his sister at the moment. However, both situations were distressing.
“How terrible. Double the trouble.” Garland gestured for him to take another drink. “I do believe you might require a refill before you feel true relief.”
Anthony chuckled as he settled back in his chair. “You may be right. Why do women make life so complicated?”
“The worst part is that they do so without even trying.”
“True.” Anthony didn’t understand why he couldn’t set aside his thoughts of Phoebe. Before her proposal, he’d gone weeks without thinking of her. Now, he couldn’t manage more than a quarter of an hour. It simply wouldn’t do.
He’d been certain kissing her would release her hold on him. Especially when he hadn’t considered her a beauty before—not the sort who normally appealed to him. But the blaze he’d felt when they’d kissed had set embers glowing that refused to be extinguished.
“Does this mean you’re thinking of marrying?” Garland asked, a glitter of interest in his eyes.
“Good heavens, no.” Anthony shook his head to emphasize his answer. “I want to see my siblings settled.”
“But you’re the eldest. Surely they expect you to be the first to take the plunge.”
“I intend to focus on assisting them without distractions.”
“I’m in no hurry either.” The viscount idly turned his crystal glass in circles on the table, causing it to sparkle in the gaslight. “It will be some time before I inherit, so I’m content to wait.”
Anthony studied his friend. “What if a woman took you by surprise? Someone you know but never considered in that light.”
Garland frowned. “You mean a friend? I can’t imagine. Either you’re attracted to a woman or you’re not.”
“Hmm.” Anthony took another drink as he pondered the statement. “That was what I thought as well. But I’ve recently come to realize my error.”
“Interesting.”
Yet by his furrowed brow, Anthony guessed he didn’t believe such a thing could happen. He hoped Garland was knocked sideways at some point in the future just as Anthony had been.
“What do you intend to do about it?” Garland asked.
“I don’t know.” The answer surprised him. He thought he’d already resolved it, but the situation with Phoebe felt far from finished.
“Do you plan on marrying for convenience’s sake?” Garland asked.
“Not after witnessing my parents’ misery. I intend to make a better decision than they did.” He didn’t mention that the choice had been taken from his father when his mother had arranged for them to be caught in a compromising position.
“Understandable. But I must say that I’m a proponent of an arranged marriage.” Garland’s eyes narrowed as if he’d given the matter considerable thought.
“Do explain.” Though he knew it wouldn’t change his mind, Anthony was curious as to his reasoning.
“Think of the simplicity. It’s like a business partnership where each party brings something into the agreement. A mistress will satisfy my personal needs. When I tire of her, she can be replaced. A wife is more complicated. Besides, mixing business with pleasure is never wise.”
While that might be true for some, Anthony knew he wanted something different. “You don’t think living with a wife for whom you have no real affection will make for a chilly, uncomfortable existence?”
“I would prefer it that way. Once we have an heir, we will go our separate ways.” Garland nodded, a half-smile on his lips. “She can live in the country while I remain in London. We’ll see each other during the holidays. I think it will work perfectly.”
“It sounds as if you have given the arrangement considerable thought.”
