Page 2 of Wedded to the Cruel Duke
A murmur of agreement rose from amongst the other ladies as Miss Thomas bristled in annoyance from her seat. Phoebe even saw her throw a glare her way, but she just shrugged it all off. She was pretty much accustomed to Miss Thomas and her attitude by then and a glare was not really the worst she had received from the other spinster, all things considered.
“My, you certainly have Lord Wentworth all figured out,” Miss Thomas remarked in a saccharine tone. “A pity that he has not noticed you, then. In fact, the only attentions you haveever received was from—who was that again? Oh,Lord Edwin Oakley.”
At the mention of that name, Phoebe immediately stiffened, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her pen.
Of course, Miss Thomas would bring out the Baron of Scunthorpe, which was a sore topic for Phoebe. He was the one thing that could reduce her to silence—and not in a good way.
Instead of flinging back a scathing retort, she looked down at the scrawled notes in her diary, her lowered eyes making out the nameCharleswritten frequently amongst its pages.
Miss Thomas might hurl her vitriol at her, but Phoebe knew the truth—that Lord Wentworth was not the monster she made him out to be and she would not allow her to malign such a misunderstood man.
Before anyone could say anything else, Miss Cartwright let out a nervous laugh.
“Well, this was a rather, ah,livelydiscussion,” she smiled at her guests. “But it is getting rather late now so we might have to adjourn this meeting and meet again, say, the same time next week?’
There was a murmur of agreement amongst the group and Phoebe inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Fortunately, thingsbetween her and Miss Thomas did not have to escalate unnecessarily.
She quickly packed up her things into her little satchel, when she recalled that she had promised her younger sister, Daphne, that she had to be back home earlier. She quickly said her goodbyes to the rest of the group, pointedly ignoring the smirk that Miss Thomas casually threw her way.
“Will you be here the same time next week, dear?” Miss Cartwright asked her with hopeful eyes.
“Of course, Miss Cartwright,” Phoebe replied with a quick smile.
“Do take care on your way back,” her host told her with a gentle hand on her arm.
Phoebe gave her a slight nod as she hurried out the door, her satchel swinging from her arm, its contents jostling from within. She put a hand on her bonnet to keep it from flying away as she quickly made her way into the carriage waiting for her.
“Back to Townsend Manor, please,” she told the coach. “And please hurry.”
“Right away, Miss Phoebe!” the coachman replied, and with a snap of the reins, they were off.
Oh, I do hope that I am not too late or Daphne will never forgive me!
If she had not been caught in a small argument with Miss Thomas, she might have been better able to keep track of the time and excused herself from the meeting earlier.
Well, at least I have made it clear that I do not live next door to a brutal murderer, she thought with a relieved sigh.
She did, however, feel more than a little incensed when Lord Edwin was brought up in the conversation. Miss Thomas certainly had no qualms about being rude and offensive for as long as she could have the upper hand in an argument!
As she looked out the window apprehensively, Phoebe could not help but let out a sigh once more.
CHAPTER TWO
JUNE 1815 , TOWNSEND MANOR
Phoebe knew herself to be a rather tolerant person in that she found herself to be more accepting of a person’s idiosyncrasies than most of thetonwere willing to be. She also was not one to nurse a grudge. However, she found that she was still ratherpiquedwhen she arrived at Townsend Manor.
Perhapspiquedwas not even the right word, for she was still in a dark mood, when a flurry of pale pink muslin nearly crashed into her from the door.
“You have arrived! Oh! I was so worried that you had forgotten about me!”
She found herself being wrapped in a frenzied hug and for a brief moment, she wondered if this was how she was going to die—smothered by muslin and still stewing with a significant amount of resentment towards Miss Thomas.
But Phoebe still wanted to enjoy a great deal of what life had to offer, so she managed a small smile as she gingerly extricated herself from her youngest sister’s exuberance.
“Daphne, you are already a young lady,” she gently reminded her sister. “Perhaps you should refrain from barreling at those who have just crossed the front door.”
She saw a faint, pretty blush adorn the younger girl—no,woman’s—cheeks as her sister appeared properly chastised for her behavior. That was soon followed by a more childish pout and Phoebe smiled a little more ruefully at the sight.