Page 33 of His Duchess of Scandal (Brides of Scandal #1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

T he door to the library opened with a bang, interrupting Phoebe’s reading of her favorite poetry book.

She and Hermia looked over to find Charles standing in the doorway, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Come,” he said, beckoning them both.

Slowly, Phoebe lowered her book, hope flickering in her eyes. “What is it, Papa?”

Hermia couldn’t help her smile when she saw Charles.

Their intimate night three days ago hadn’t stopped replaying in her head, and although they had yet to seek out one another again, utterly spent from how many times Charles had brought her to climax, she ached for him all over again.

“I am taking you both out. The day is lovely; it is a shame to waste such fine weather.”

“Out?” Phoebe put down her book hurriedly and jumped to her feet. Her white dress bounced with the movement, the skirt full and frilly. “Where are we going?”

“You shall see.”

Charles’s smile came more easily around Phoebe these days, something in him thawing the closer he let himself get to her. It seemed Hermia’s words that night in the cottage had begun sinking in.

“For now, it is a surprise, but I have a carriage ready.”

Hermia stood up as well, excitement bubbling up in her chest. She looked at him curiously to find only a secretive smile. He gave a subtle nod, a silent I am trying to fix the mistakes I have made . Pride bloomed in her chest.

Within minutes, the three of them were ready and leaving Branmere Manor, filing into the carriage.

For once, Phoebe held in her questions. While Hermia was always ready to humor the young girl, she knew Charles was still learning to be patient with her.

The carriage pulled them through London streets to the outskirts of the city.

Gates rose in the distance, golden-tipped and grand. In the center was a sign, and Hermia bit her lip, knowing it was only a matter of time before Phoebe read it aloud.

“We are at a menagerie!” the girl shouted, shuffling close to the carriage door before they rolled to a stop.

As soon as they did and a footman opened the door, she pushed her way out, leaving Hermia and Charles to hurry after her.

Charles didn’t look annoyed with his daughter’s impatience; for once, he looked overjoyed.

“There are goats here, I believe,” he said quietly to Hermia. “I thought it was a good guess to surprise her with.”

“She will love it,” Hermia assured him.

Together, they joined the small crowd rushing through the gates. Charles held out the tickets he had already purchased, leaving Hermia wondering how long he had planned the trip.

The sun beat down on them, pleasant without being overbearing. Pathways branched out in different directions, and a map of the menagerie was displayed right at the start. Charles strode over to Phoebe, and the two of them bent over the map.

“Where would you like to go first?” he asked.

Hermia’s heart swelled. She knew it was not easy for him to give Phoebe the choice of roaming wherever she pleased.

“ Hmm ,” Phoebe said dramatically, looking around as though it was a difficult decision. “It says there is a bird sanctuary. I want to go there first!”

Hermia joined them, biting back a laugh when she saw that the bird sanctuary was the farthest from their starting point. “Then we shall.”

“You may lead the way, Phoebe, but do not run out of sight. Understood?” Charles gave his daughter a long, pointed look.

Phoebe nodded diligently, even as her mischievous gaze flitted around at the crowds that branched off in different directions. She looked ready to bolt, and Hermia could only hope that she did not.

Instead, Phoebe skipped ahead towards the bird sanctuary, her dark hair bouncing with the movement.

Charles kept an eye on her as he offered his arm to Hermia. After a moment, he looked at her.

“Shall we?” he asked. “Before she runs off and tests my patience.”

Hermia laughed softly, looping her arm through his as he guided her after Phoebe.

On the way, they passed a whole host of animals that did not yet interest the girl, if her silence was any indication. Instead, she was focused on getting to her destination—the bird sanctuary.

They walked past a trio of ladies, and although Hermia tried not to pay them any attention, she couldn’t help but feel their stares.

The gossip still had not quite died down.

“My sister would love this,” she said, eyeing two zebras that ran alongside their gated enclosure, tossing their heads and flicking their tails.

“Alicia, I mean. She is five-and-ten, and although she has the strongest head that I have ever seen on a woman, I still see her young side peeking through. In many ways, she grew up quickly, eager to oppose mine and Isabella’s behavior.

Isabella is the next eldest after me, and she…

well, she and I have often clashed, but she is my sister still. ”

“There are four of you, yes?”

“Yes. Me, Isabella, then Sibyl, who is the most hopeless romantic I have ever known, and Alicia is the youngest.”

“She has not yet debuted, then.”

Hermia shook her head. “And I am grateful she is still a year or two too young. She will be a queen on a chessboard, I fear.”

Charles laughed at that. Although he listened, he kept an attentive eye on Phoebe. “You must have raised them well.”

Hermia’s steps faltered at the casual acknowledgment that she had indeed been the one to raise her sisters. “Is it obvious that I did?”

“I did not speak much with them at the wedding, but there is something about the way you mention them. A fondness that… that is not often present among family.”

His brow creased into a frown, but she knew it was not the place to press.

She thought of Lady Mercy and the distance she had maintained from Phoebe, then she thought of her own mother, who had been happier letting her raise her sisters than do it herself.

“I love them,” she said simply. “We can fight pettily, but they are my sisters.”

“Sometimes familial titles are not always enough to foster love,” Charles said, “but I can see that it is the case for you. And I am certain they feel the same. I recall how fiercely they embraced you after the wedding.”

Hermia nodded. “They have often asked about you. Sibyl, mostly. Alicia just wishes to know how I am using my new title to empower myself.” Her face flushed as she spoke the next part.

“However, I am hesitant to admit that it is my husband who empowers me, mostly. Especially in… in your chamber several nights ago.”

Despite the command he had over her in those moments, Charles looked away, but Hermia could see the smile on his face.

“And I would like to do it again, but you do not need me to empower you, Hermia. I think you do that for yourself plenty. I am merely the addition you did not ask for.”

Hermia was ready to argue the point, even if he was right about their beginning, when Phoebe announced that they had arrived at their destination. She was still several paces ahead, out of earshot—mercifully. When she spun to face them, her eyes were wide and excited.

“There is a parrot!” she shouted. “Hermia, come and see! There is a parrot, just like in the story you read to me last week!”

Charles gave Hermia a curious look, and she chuckled. “I told Phoebe a story about a magical parrot who could not only echo a person’s words, but also their mannerisms and gait. I may have been a little too fantastical, and I fear she might be disappointed.”

But Phoebe only disproved her point when she let out a high-pitched laugh, clapping her hands with joy as she approached the parrot’s stand and squawked at it.

“Phoebe,” Charles warned gently. “Do not scare the bird.”

“How about you tell it something?” Hermia suggested, when Phoebe looked excited yet uncertain as to what to do, as if she was waiting for the parrot to do its own thing, like in the story she had told her.

The girl frowned at the bird. Its plumes were beautiful, all royal blue and cobalt, bold and captivating. It truly was quite remarkable, especially when the look in its blue eyes was so wise.

“All right,” she said aloud.

“ All right ,” the parrot echoed.

Phoebe looked shocked at first, shocked and then cross . “No, I am not done yet! I have not decided what I want you to say.”

“ I have not yet decided what I want you to say ,” the parrot mimicked.

Hermia stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Charles merely watched his daughter with the most adoring look on his face.

“Stop that!” she scolded the parrot.

“ Stop that .”

“Papa!” Phoebe shouted, but she was already giggling.

Of course, the parrot mimicked that too, and the three of them burst into laughter.

Hermia’s arm tightened on Charles’s, her eyes fixed on Phoebe, who was struggling to maintain an angry expression. Her arms were folded over her chest, her lips pursed, but a giggle would escape now and then.

“I am a pretty lady,” she said.

The parrot only cocked its head at her, and that made Charles laugh even harder.

“I am a handsome man,” he tried.

“ I am a handsome man ,” the parrot announced.

That sent Phoebe into a fit of roaring laughter.

“ Pretty lady, handsome man, pretty lady, handsome man …”

The sound of their mingling laughter warmed Hermia’s heart. It did even more so when Charles slowly moved to stand beside Phoebe. He offered her his arm, and she looked up at him in pure delight, tucking herself into his side.

“You are a clever parrot,” he commended.

“Like Clever Hermia!” Phoebe squealed.

The bird let out another squawk. “ Clever Hermia, clever parrot. ”

Charles stood tall alongside his daughter, and Hermia watched the two of them almost double over in laughter as the parrot kept snatching up snippets and warping them.

Having seen them so tense around one another, all the times Phoebe had cried, and the endless scolding she had received, to hear them laughing together made something click into place.