Page 33 of The Elusive Phoebe (The Widows of Lavender Cottage #1)
Chapter Twenty-Four
T he morning mist still clung to the lavender fields when Archie stepped outside Lavender Cottage, but his mind was already racing through the dozen details that needed his attention before they departed.
The hired carriage would arrive within the hour, and everything had to be perfect.
Phoebe's safety—her very life—might depend on how well he'd planned this journey.
He pulled out his pocket watch for the third time in ten minutes, then forced himself to slow down. Nervous energy wouldn't help anyone, least of all Phoebe, who was already anxious enough about venturing into the world again.
"My lord?" Thomas appeared at his elbow, carrying a small valise. "The additional supplies you requested."
"Excellent." Archie accepted the case, knowing it contained far more than spare clothing.
Hidden among perfectly ordinary travel necessities were a brace of loaded pistols, ammunition, emergency funds sewn into coat linings, and the forged documents that would allow them to travel under assumed names if necessary.
"You're certain about the route to Rosemont Hall? "
"As certain as I can be, my lord. The back roads will add half a day to the journey, but they'll keep you well away from the main coaching routes where someone might be watching for Lady Smalling."
Archie nodded, running through the plan once more in his mind.
He would depart first, establishing their cover story at the inn near Rosemont.
Phoebe and Mary would follow an hour later, traveling as a widow and her companion on a melancholy pilgrimage to settle her late husband's affairs.
Nothing suspicious, nothing that would draw attention.
It was a good plan. A solid plan. So why did every instinct he possessed scream that it wasn't enough to keep her safe ?
"My lord," Thomas said quietly, studying his face, "might I offer some advice?"
"Of course."
"Stop trying to anticipate every possible threat. You'll drive yourself mad, and you'll be no good to her if you're jumping at shadows."
Archie managed a rueful smile. "Is it that obvious?"
"You've checked your watch seventeen times since I've been standing here, and you've gone over that route map so many times I'm surprised the ink hasn't worn off.
" Thomas's expression grew serious. "She's not helpless, you know.
Lady Smalling is stronger than she appears, and Mary's more dangerous than any lady's maid has a right to be.
Between the three of you, most threats can be handled. "
"And the threats we can't handle?"
Thomas clapped him on the shoulder. "Those are in God's hands, my lord. Same as they've always been."
The older man's calm confidence helped settle Archie's nerves slightly.
He was being overprotective—he knew it—but he couldn't seem to stop himself.
The thought of anything happening to Phoebe made his chest tight with an anxiety that had nothing to do with duty and everything to do with the woman who had owned his heart since he was fifteen years old.
The cottage door opened, and Phoebe emerged carrying a small traveling case, with Mary close behind her. She wore a simple traveling dress in deep blue, her hair arranged in a practical style beneath a modest bonnet, and she looked...
Archie felt his breath catch. She looked beautiful.
Not in the elaborate, artificial way of London society ladies, but with the natural grace that had captivated him as a boy and now struck him speechless as a man.
The morning light caught the auburn highlights in her hair, and when she smiled at him—that soft, slightly nervous smile that meant she was trying to be brave—he felt the familiar jolt of love and protectiveness that had driven him across an ocean to find her.
"Good morning," she said, her voice carefully cheerful. "I believe we're ready."
"Good morning." He moved to take her traveling case, their fingers brushing as she handed it over. The brief contact sent warmth shooting up his arm, and he had to resist the urge to linger, to capture her hand in his and hold on. "Did you sleep well?"
"Well enough." She glanced toward the lavender fields, and something wistful crossed her expression. "I spent some time thinking about... many things."
"Good thoughts, I hope?"
"Mostly." Her eyes met his for a moment, and he caught a glimpse of something soft and complicated in their depths before she looked away. "Are you certain about the arrangements? I still worry that we're putting you at unnecessary risk."
You're worried about putting me at risk? The irony might have been funny if it weren't so perfectly, heartbreakingly characteristic of her. Even now, when she was the one in danger, she was concerned about his safety.
"I'm certain," he said gently. "And Phoebe? I want you to know that no matter what happens, no matter what we discover at these estates, I'm honored to be here with you."
She blinked, clearly startled by the intensity in his voice. "Archie..."
"I know you can't promise me anything beyond friendship," he continued, needing to say this before they left the safety of Somerset.
"I know you value your independence above all else, and I respect that.
But I need you to understand—I'm not doing this out of obligation or some misguided sense of duty.
I'm here because I choose to be, because there's nowhere else in the world I'd rather be than at your side. "
Color rose in her cheeks, and she glanced around as if suddenly aware that they had an audience. Thomas had tactfully withdrawn to supervise the loading of the carriage, but Mary was watching with obvious interest from the cottage steps.
"We should discuss this later," Phoebe said quietly. "When we have more privacy."
"Of course." But Archie couldn't resist adding, "Just... don't doubt my motivations, Phoebe. Whatever else you're uncertain about, don't doubt that."
She nodded, her expression soft but unreadable, and turned to embrace Mrs. Crawford, who had appeared to see them off.
As Archie watched Phoebe say her goodbyes to the servants who had become her chosen family, he found himself cataloguing every detail: the way she hugged Mrs. Crawford with genuine affection, how she pressed a small wrapped package into Thomas's hands "for emergencies," the careful instructions she gave about maintaining the cottage in her absence.
This was his Phoebe—not the frightened girl who had been married off to settle her father's debts, but the woman she had become.
Strong, thoughtful, capable of inspiring fierce loyalty in everyone around her.
She had built a life here, created a home, surrounded herself with people who chose to love and protect her.
And she had invited him to be part of it.
The realization hit him with startling clarity.
He wasn't trying to rescue a helpless widow or fulfill some romantic fantasy of their childhood.
He was falling in love—had fallen in love—with the woman Phoebe had become.
A woman who didn't need rescuing but who might, perhaps, choose to let him stand beside her as she faced whatever challenges lay ahead.
The hired carriage appeared around the bend, and Archie felt his stomach tighten with nerves that had nothing to do with the journey's dangers and everything to do with the opportunity it represented.
They would be traveling together, working together, sharing whatever discoveries awaited them at Robert's estates.
For the first time since arriving in Somerset, he would have Phoebe truly to himself—no household responsibilities, no Widows' meetings, no distractions from the outside world.
Just the two of them, uncovering secrets and perhaps, if he was very careful and very patient, finding their way back to the connection they had once shared.
"Well," Phoebe said as the carriage drew to a stop, "I suppose this is it."
"This is it," Archie agreed, offering his arm to help her up the cottage steps for one last look around. "Are you ready?"
She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders in a gesture he remembered from their childhood. It was what she always did when facing something that frightened her but that she was determined to do anyway.
"I'm ready," she said firmly. Then, more quietly, "Thank you, Archie. For everything."
"Thank me when we get back safely," he replied, trying to keep his tone light despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. "With all Robert's mysteries solved and you in full possession of whatever he left for you."
"And if the mysteries lead to more danger than we bargained for?"
Archie helped her into the carriage, taking a moment to arrange her skirts properly—a simple courtesy that let him linger near her for just a few seconds longer than necessary. "Then we'll face it together," he said simply. "Just like we used to face everything together. "
Her hand found his briefly, squeezing gently before she released him. "Together," she agreed.
As Archie mounted his horse for the ride to the inn where he would wait for her arrival, he carried that word with him like a talisman.
Together. It was what he had always wanted, what he had dreamed of during long, lonely nights in India, what he had hoped for but hardly dared to expect when he set out to find her.
Now, watching her carriage disappear down the lane toward their first real adventure as adults, Archie allowed himself to hope. Not for any specific outcome—he had learned better than to assume Phoebe would choose the path he wanted—but for the chance to prove himself worthy of her trust.
And perhaps, if he was very lucky, worthy of the love he had never stopped carrying in his heart.
The morning sun broke through the mist as he rode toward Rosemont Hall, and Archie found himself smiling despite the dangers ahead. Whatever they discovered in Robert's hidden puzzles, whatever threats they faced from enemies known and unknown, they would face them together.
And for now, that was enough. More than enough.
It was everything.