Page 28 of Seasonal Habits of Husbands and Honeybees (A Genus of Gentlemen #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“M y lady,” Sterns said from the doorway of the sitting room. “The Marchioness of Greenwood is here. I’ve placed her in the front parlor.”

Phee’s brow furrowed at the name. The widow of the former earl had been rumored to be close with Harrison, but when she failed to make it to the wedding, Phee wondered at her absence.

“Very good,” she said. “Please send tea and refreshments.”

“Yes, my lady,” Sterns said.

Standing, Phee brushed at her blush skirts. The garments, while not out of style, were a season or two old. Shrugging, she decided to forgo changing since she planned to return to the hives later that afternoon.

With a deep breath, Phee entered the sitting room where Margaret Ludlow, the Marchioness of Greenwood, sat, her brown hair in a simple chignon and her plum day dress fitting her lush figure with gracefulness.

Phee curtsied. “Lady Greenwood, it is lovely to finally make your acquaintance.”

Lady Greenwood stood, and hurried to Phee, taking her hands in her own and squeezing them as one would an old friend. “Forget decorum, we’re family. It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Phoebe.”

Phee smiled. “Please, call me Phee.

“Only if you promise to call me Meg,” Lady Greenwood said.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Meg,” Phee said, motioning for her to sit. “I’ve called for some refreshments.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Meg said, setting aside her reticule and taking off her gloves. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to make it to the nuptials. We had a bit of an emergency at Baron and given how fast you and Harry wed, I just knew that there would be a much better time to finally meet you.”

“Harry?” Phee asked.

Meg looked at her, her brow furrowed over her brown gaze. “Harry? Lord Harrison?”

Phee smiled, a soft chuckle escaping. “I didn’t know he had a nickname.”

Meg smiled, nodding. “I’ve called him Harry for as long as I’ve known him.”

“Does he like it?”

Meg blinked at her. “You know, I’ve never asked him.”

It was such a simple question and yet the surprise on Meg’s face as she answered left Phee biting her lip. Why had he never been asked what he wanted to be called? Why had he asked Phee to call him Harrison, but said nothing regarding Meg’s nickname? It was as if they were speaking of two different people, and Phee’s throat knotted at the notion that perhaps she did not know her husband at all.

Meg waved off the topic. “Enough about Harry, tell me about you. When he wrote to say he was marrying quickly I had to assume it was for love. Harry never does anything irrationally.”

Phee forced a smile to her lips even as her heart skipped at Meg’s question. “We met and simply could not imagine a better union than one with each other,” she said. Not a lie, but not the truth. “He’s a phenomenal man. I’m so lucky to have found him.”

Meg nodded. “That sounds like Harry. He’s always so cooperative. I remember when I was restoring Baron, he would send letter after letter asking what he could do to help. He’s always been so ready to care for others.”

Phee smiled. “I’m terribly sorry, but you’ve mentioned Baron several times and I’m not sure I know what it is.”

Meg smacked her forehead with her hand. “What a dolt I am. I’m so sorry. Baron is my home. It’s a manor in Brighton that I’ve turned into a sort of home for wayward souls.”

Phee leaned closer. “Really?”

Meg nodded. “Yes. We’ve a Romani encampment that has settled in the sheep pasture, and my gardener and his family live in a cottage not far from the manor. There’s a community garden and a stable as well.”

“How wonderful,” Phee said. “You mentioned an emergency? I do hope everything is all right?”

Meg smiled. “Yes. We had a young woman who was rather far along in her pregnancy arrive. Her parents wanted to send her to a nunnery to have the baby, but she insisted upon raising it herself so she came to Baron. It just happened that when she arrived, she went into labor which made for a rather eventful night for us all.”

“Goodness! It sounds as though things are quite a commotion there.”

“Yes, but I love it.”

A knock at the door indicated that a maid had arrived with refreshments. Once the items were delivered and they both had a cup of tea, Phee turned her attention back to Meg. “Does Baron have bee hives? Harrison just took me to the estate in Dorset and they had four hives on the property and used the wax and honey for all sorts of purposes.”

“I hadn’t thought of hives. How ingenious,” Meg said. “We don’t have any, and in truth, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Starting isn’t very hard once you establish the hives,” Phee said, sipping at her tea.

“Do you know a lot about bees?”

Phee nodded. “I do. I have two hives out back and just acquired a cat to help with the rat problem.” She laughed softly. “Although I’m afraid she’s more of a pet than a worker.”

With a laugh, Meg set down her teacup. “How wonderful. I did not think Harry was a fan of bugs or cats, but I’m not surprised he gave such permission given how much he obviously adores you.”

Phee set her cup in her saucer, the porcelain clinking as she stared at it. “I wasn’t aware he disliked them.” Her mind replayed images of him with Mildred, holding her as one did a child. How he said he had longed for a dog when he was a boy. None of those seemed in line with the man Meg was describing.

Meg set her cup on the low table then placed her hand on Phee’s arm. “I wouldn’t say dislike, just neutral. I’m so sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have.”

Phee forced a smile to her lips and turned back to Meg. “Not at all. It seems we’re still learning about one another.”

“I’m afraid that will never stop no matter how long you are married.”

“Truly?”

With a smile, Meg nodded and picked back up her tea. “Oliver, my husband, is so multifaceted I’m not sure I’ll ever learn all of his quirks. He’s like one of those telescopes with the broken glass at the end, each time you turn it there’s a brand-new picture.”

“A kaleidoscope.”

Meg nodded. “Exactly.” Taking a sip of tea, Meg lowered her cup, her brow furrowed. “Now that I think on it, having hives would be extremely beneficial to Baron.” She placed her cup in its saucer and set it back on the table before reaching for her reticule and removing a small notebook and pencil. “You said the estate in Dorset used the wax and the honey for the property?”

“Yes. The beekeeper, Mr. Cole, said he renders the old wax and uses it to make candles for the manor and that the housekeeper uses some of the renderings to create furniture polish and other cleaning items. The honey that isn’t used by the bees can easily be harvested and used for so many things in the kitchen.”

Meg scribbled furiously on the notepad, flipping page after page as she filled it with notes. “And you said you know how to start hives?” Meg asked.

Phee pursed her lips. “I’ve had some luck with the ones here, yes, but I don’t know how helpful I’ll be in theory elsewhere.”

Meg waved her statement off. “Nonsense. If you’ve accomplished it here, you no doubt can accomplish the same feat anywhere. You’re obviously knowledgeable and talented in this field, far more so than someone like me.” She set down the pad and paper and looked at Phee before smiling. “Would you have any interest in coming to Baron to help me set up hives for the estate?”

“What?”

“That is, if Harry can spare you.” She laughed. “What am I talking about? You both should come to Baron. I know Oliver would love the additional set of hands, and we can make a party of it. Work during the day and then have dinner and socializing at night. It’ll be like a holiday.”

Phee smiled at Meg even as her head shouted that it was new. It was different. A home full of people she did not know and a setting she had never been in. Would the rules of polite society pertain at Baron as they did in the social setting? And what of Mildred? The sweet dear had become a sort of comfort, a fluffy and persistent reminder to remain focused on the things she knew to do.

“I’ll have to talk with Harrison, but I don’t see any reason we should not be able to attend,” Phee said.

“Wonderful!” Meg said, clapping her hands together.

“Phoebe, Sterns said we have company,” Harrison said as he walked into the parlor, his steps slowing to a sudden stop when he spotted Meg.

“Harry!” Meg said, jumping to her feet and hurrying to him where she wrapped him in an effusive hug.

The look of shock on Harrison’s face quickly disappeared and a graceful smile took over as he returned her hug. “Hello, Meg” he said. “You look well.”

“I am,” Meg said. “I was just talking with your wonderful wife and telling her how sorry Oliver and I were to not make it to the wedding.”

“You’re a newlywed, Meg, it’s understandable.”

Meg shook her head. “Nonsense.” She pulled back to look at him. “But look at you, you’re married. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Harrison laughed, an odd chuckling sound that was nothing like his true laugh. “After meeting Phee, I just couldn’t help myself.” He looked at her, the fake smile peculiar on his face. “Isn’t that right, my lady?”

“Yes,” Phee said.

Harrison looked at Meg. “I hate to cut this short but I have an appointment Is must get to which is why I was searching for the countess.”

Meg placed her hand on her chest. “Blast. I’ll leave you both to it then.” Picking up her reticule from the couch, Meg hugged Phee, her hands clasping Phee’s in a warm embrace. “Don’t forget to tell Harry about our plans. I can’t wait to show you both Baron. We’ll have dinner soon and make all the plans.”

Phee nodded, squeezing Meg’s hands in return. “I can’t wait.”

With a quick kiss to Harrison’s cheek, Meg departed, and Phee watched the mask slip from Harrison’s face, the faux smile evaporating as he turned to look at her.

“Our trip to Baron?” he asked.

Phee nodded, uncertain of Harrison’s change in demeanor. “She’s asked for my help in setting up hives for Baron and thought it would make a lovely holiday if we both went.”

“A holiday?”

“Yes.” Wringing her hands, Phee stepped closer to Harrison, her eyes scanning his face. “She said her husband would love another set of hands and we’d have dinner parties at night.”

Harrison swallowed before lifting his hand to cup her cheek. “That’s–that’s a lot.”

“I want to help, especially because she is your friend, but a trip to Brighton is…” Phee paused, closing her eyes as she rested her cheek against his hand. “I’ve never been to Brighton.”

“Neither have I,” he said. “It could be romantic, the two of us in Brighton together for the first time. We could go on walks in the afternoon, maybe explore the town?”

“It’s new.”

“It is.” He tipped her chin up and Phee opened her eyes to look at him. “The decision is yours. I want to do what you want to do.”

Nodding her head in determination, Phee firmed her brow. “It’s just like Dorset. I’ve done this before.”

He smiled. “You have.”

“Can we bring Mildred?”

“I’m sure there won’t be a problem in doing so. Can’t have the little mite angry with us.”

Phee nodded, a soft smile pulling at her lips. “Then it’s settled. I’ll send a message to Meg and let her know that we’d be happy to join them at Baron.”

Harrison’s smile was tight as he looked at her. Stepping closer, Phee set her hand on his forearm. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Just making a list of what will need to be done for the trip.” Kissing her forehead, he said, “I’ve some estate matters to look at. I’ll see you for dinner?”

Without waiting for her reply, Harrison left the parlor. Phee’s brow furrowed as she watched him depart, his change in demeanor its familiar peculiarity.

With a sigh and a troubled heart, Phee walked the hallway to the garden, her mind twisting and turning as she analyzed her husband’s odd mood. She would not let it suffocate the happiness they had just started to build with one another. After all, a queen never loses her composure, not even when the hive is in danger, for a hive without a queen will fail.