Page 31 of The Elusive Phoebe (The Widows of Lavender Cottage #1)

In reality, Victoria's carriage simply circled London for several hours before depositing her at a quiet inn where she could rest and change back into her own clothes before beginning the journey home to Somerset.

Dearest Lady Joanna,

I am thrilled to report that London society will be dining out on stories of the mysterious Lady Smalling for months to come!

The ton is now convinced that I'm a wealthy widow with access to dangerous government secrets, actively seeking a husband for protection while hiding vital intelligence in some remote location.

Almack's, the opera, and the Duchess of Devonshire's ball have all been treated to dramatic glimpses of my "plight. "

I was approached by no fewer than two suspicious gentlemen—one Irish, one English—both desperately interested in dear "Robert's" documents. I convinced both that I possess valuable information but keep it frustratingly out of reach, hidden somewhere they'll never find it.

The cream of society now believes Lady Smalling is fleeing London for either Yorkshire, Scotland, Bath, Brighton, or the Lake District, depending on whom they ask. I may have given slightly conflicting information to different people.

Lord Castlereagh himself seemed quite interested in my "inheritance," while Lady Jersey has declared me the most fascinating widow to appear in London for years. I believe I may have accidentally started a fashion for mysterious mourning jewelry.

Our various pursuers are now scattered across England, chasing shadows while comparing contradictory reports about my whereabouts and intentions.

Your devoted star performer, Victoria

P.S. - I may have accidentally accepted three different marriage proposals during my week in London.

I assured each gentleman that I would consider his offer once I've "settled my late husband's dangerous affairs.

" I do hope they won't be too disappointed when Lady Smalling mysteriously vanishes from society altogether.

P.P.S. - The diamonds were a tremendous success. I've never had so much attention from fortune hunters and government agents simultaneously. Quite an intoxicating combination!

Back at Lavender Cottage, Phoebe sat in her morning room reading the reports from her four brave decoys while Archie paced nearby, torn between admiration and exasperation.

"They're all completely mad," he declared, though his tone held grudging respect. "Brilliant, but completely mad."

"They're magnificent," Phoebe corrected, laughing as she finished Victoria's account of her London triumph. "Look what they've accomplished in just one week!"

She spread the letters across her table, marveling at the scope of the deception.

"Charlotte has the Irish agents chasing shadows toward Canterbury.

Margaret has them convinced I'm headed for Scotland.

Caroline has them searching convents and religious sites across the north.

And Victoria has both Irish and English operatives completely confused about which direction I've actually gone. "

"Meanwhile," Archie admitted, "you're about to begin your own adventure. I have to concede—their plan is working."

Lady Joanna entered the room at that moment, looking particularly pleased with herself.

"I've just received reports from our contacts across England.

There are confirmed sightings of suspicious men asking questions in Bath, York, Canterbury, and London.

Several have been spotted racing toward Scotland, while others are combing religious sites looking for a repentant widow. "

"How long do you think the confusion will last?" Phoebe asked.

"Weeks, possibly months," Lady Joanna replied with satisfaction. "By the time they realize they've been chasing ghosts, you'll be fully prepared to handle whatever threats remain."

Archie stopped pacing and looked at both women with newfound respect. "I owe you an apology, Lady Joanna. When you said I was displaying masculine overconfidence, I thought you were being overly cautious. Now I see you were being strategic."

"The difference," Lady Joanna said with a slight smile, "between protection and preparation. You wanted to fight Phoebe's battles for her. We're teaching her to fight them herself."

Phoebe gathered the letters from her brave friends, already planning her responses.

She would send each Widow a detailed thank-you note, along with small gifts appropriate to their performances—perhaps a beautiful fan for Charlotte's theatrical flair, some Scottish wool for Margaret's northern adventure, a prayer book for Caroline's spiritual journey, and definitely something sparkly for Victoria's London triumph.

"When this is all over," she said aloud, "I'm hosting the most spectacular celebration for these remarkable women. They've given me the gift of time and safety, and I intend to make sure they know how grateful I am."

"When this is over," Archie added thoughtfully, "I'm never again underestimating the power of organized women."

Lady Joanna's smile widened. "Lord Lytton, I believe you're finally beginning to understand the true nature of the Widows of Somerset."

As Phoebe penned her grateful responses to her brave decoys, she reflected on how much her life had changed.

A week ago, she had been a frightened widow hiding from unknown threats.

Now she was the center of a sophisticated intelligence operation, surrounded by friends willing to risk everything for her safety, and gradually becoming the strong, capable woman she was meant to be.

The Widows had bought her time, but more importantly, they had shown her what true sisterhood looked like. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she would face them not as a helpless victim, but as a member of the most formidable secret society in England.

And that, she thought as she signed her letters, was worth more than all the estates and inheritance in the world.