Page 17 of The Elusive Phoebe (The Widows of Lavender Cottage #1)

Chapter Thirteen

A t home the next afternoon, Phoebe could do nothing but think about her letters from Lord Smalling and though she hesitated more often than not, by this hour of the day she could resist no longer.

Phoebe’s hands shook as she lifted the next parchment to read the scratched hand of the late Lord Smalling.

I think you will find that I am less warm and more urgent in some of these letters.

But I cannot continue until I express at least once, how sorry I am for the way our marriage turned out.

If you are reading this now, I have passed away and you are left not knowing your husband or his hopes to be a loving and good man at your side.

He was repetitive. Each letter seeming like the last he might send.

Phoebe’s heart pounded and she closed her eyes.

Could she read this? Could she even believe him?

The injustice of her life came crashing back around her.

Things that were easy to forget when walking through the fields of lavender, were certainly ever present in her memories if ignited. She sighed and rubbed her temples.

I know life is nothing like you ever thought it would be. But let’s begin at the beginning, shall we?

Phoebe sighed but kept reading.

I wanted to love you. I was about to retire from my side profession in working with our current Prime Minister and I was ready to be home, enjoy the Season, spend time with my wife, start a family.

She placed a hand on her stomach. Family.

A loud knock at her door made her jump.

She stood and made her way to the front room. Her servants should arrive the very next day. She counted the moments, if even for security to have a staff about her. She peered out the window. A man stood on her porch, alone. She could only see the back of his jacket. He was well dressed .

She steadied herself, breathing slowly to calm her heart. Whoever he was, surely someone would hear her screams. She placed a hand at her heart. It had come to this: worry for her life and safety.

She opened the door a crack. “Who is it? You may call in through the door. I’ll hear you.” Then she closed it firmly and turned the lock.

There was silence for a moment and then a soft voice responded. “I’m sorry to frighten you, Phoebes.”

Relief flowed through her almost making her knees buckle. With shaking hands, she turned the lock again and opened the door. “Archie.”

He was still the same. His eyes, kind, his hair, mussed. But he was different, taller, broader, some form of confidence in his stance. His eyes held tears.

She brought a hand up to her heart.

And he was wary. “Can you ever forgive your sorry excuse for a best friend?”

Perhaps if she’d not first been frightened, she might have responded differently, but instead of saying anything at all, she flung herself into his arms. “Oh Archie. I am so glad to see you.”

His arms immediately held her close, his hands running soothing lines up her back. “Phoebe.”

She wished to never leave his embrace. Everything she’d ever felt for him flooded back and lit the closeness between them with sparks.

She felt safe and ignited all at the same time.

The world which had been askew for years seemed to shift all around her, righting itself in alignment.

It was a wholly unexpected feeling of peace.

She was home. This was where she was meant to be.

But then the smallest semblance of thought returned. She stepped back, her mouth quivering with the question she must ask. “You never came for me.”

He stepped forward as if to reclose the space. She held a shaking hand out. “When I was alone, trapped in the exile, you didn’t come.” It was more an accusation than a question. Why hadn’t he come?

He shook his head. “I have no good excuse. Not really. I was told you were abroad, that you were happy, that you were with child. I was told all manner of things, everything to keep me from seeking you out. You never responded to my letters. I thought you stopped caring, that you would never forgive me.” He lifted his gaze to her face, searching with a hope that almost broke her heart. “Can you? Ever forgive me?”

She shook her head, choosing to ignore his question for now.

“How can that be? I received no letters, though I wrote plenty of my own, I fear none of them left the grounds of the northern estate.” She wanted to scream with frustration as the memory of it all came flooding back.

“It was a frightening, isolating time I couldn’t possibly begin to explain.

” She looked away. “And no one came for me.”

He clutched at his heart and lowered himself to her step. “For that I won’t forgive myself. It is too much to ask for you to do such a thing.” He turned his eyes up to her, wide and full of earnestness. “But I will do all that is in my power to care for you until my last breath.”

She opened her mouth but he held up a hand.

“I ask for nothing in return. No commitment, nothing from you. But I now have the means to do whatever it is you might require, take you from this tiny place if you wish, whatever it is that would make you happy. I am yours to command.” He stood slowly and lifted her hand with his.

“Please allow me to be here for you now.”

“Archie. Things are much more complicated than you could possibly imagine.” She searched the street out in front of him and the land all around. Seeing no one, she breathed easier. “Were you followed? How did you find me?”

She held open her door, ushering him inside. “Come, we must be more careful.” She led him to her sitting room, the letters from her late husband in a small stack on the table, one opened, the others carefully sealed. Archie’s letter was also in a separate place on that same table.

“I see you received my letter.”

She nodded. “I did. Please, have a seat. Would you like tea?”

“Yes, I think some tea would be restorative for us both.”

She left to warm up the kettle, but he called from behind. “Are you here alone?”

“Until tomorrow. I have servants coming.”

He joined her. “Then let us make the tea together.”

The space was cozy in the kitchen, the two of them working side by side to place some biscuits and tarts on a tray. “Did you make these?” He wiggled an eyebrow, perhaps remembering her previous disasters in the kitchen.

“I did.” She frowned at him in mockery. “But you shall soon discover that I have perfected my skills.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. Though you deserve and could have the finest chef money can buy. Truly. You have no need to cook another tart unless it fancies you. ”

The kettle boiled, and so she poured it carefully into the tea pot and placed it on the tray with the cups and saucers.

He reached across her, grasping both sides of the tray. “Allow me.”

She smiled. “Thank you. It did promise to be rather heavy.”

His strong frame just ahead of her, the easy camaraderie that had immediately settled over them both.

She could get used to this and too quickly.

She must keep her wits about her and her heart firmly in check.

Now was not the time to fall into another marriage, no matter how lovely it might seem.

Her cheeks warmed. He’d said nothing of marriage.

She’d certainly grasped onto that idea rather quickly.

But it could not be. No matter who the spouse would be, she did not want to be beholden to anyone ever again.

She valued her freedom too greatly. Her feelings of entrapment, being held captive by her servants, her own wishes ignored—all thoughts that had plagued her for two years were still very raw and real.

“What do you want, Archie?” The question just poured out of her along with the fear. It was likely evident to him. She couldn’t hide much from him, at least she hadn’t been able to when they were kids .

He leaned forward, his eyes full of sincerity and a touch of empathy.

Could he really grasp her concerns? He shook his head.

“I don’t expect a single thing from you.

Nothing. You owe me nothing. I just want…

” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I just really want you to be safe. And I’m prepared to do whatever it takes.

I can be part of the picture, or not. I can disappear if you like.

” He held out his hands. “I am just happy to see you again.” His mouth lifted in the corner, his charming crooked smile making an appearance.

She tried not to melt, to not get caught up in her memories.

Their current reality was very different than anything they had lived before.

“Thank you. I…don’t know if I need…anything yet. I don’t know much of anything except that this is nice.” She smiled in return, but she knew it was weak. She just didn’t know what she could offer him. Did he want more really, deep down?

Archie studied her a moment more and then seemed to make a decision. He sat up taller. “I’ll be perfectly honest, and this may be too much right now. But perhaps it will help ease your mind to know my whole heart, my intentions, all of it.”

She didn’t respond, wondering if she breathed, her stillness absolute.

“The truth is, I am here for you forever. ”

She sucked in a breath, studying his face. He seemed perfectly sincere.

“I don’t need a single thing from you. Nothing.

I will protect you and try to ensure your happiness until my dying breath.

And be satisfied doing so. But.” His face colored.

“But my feelings for you have only grown. I love you, Phoebes. I always will. And if you decide you want to love me back, I’d marry you tomorrow.

” He loosened his cravat. “I’d marry you tomorrow even if you didn’t love me, if that’s the best pay to provide protection.

” His smile turned tender, and he stared into her eyes.

“But I wouldn’t complain if you loved me too.

” He chuckled then shoved his hands in his pockets. “That’s a lot, isn’t it?”