His Mistletoe Bride Page 6
Lucas studied his cousin. Even though he barely moved, a noticeable change came over him. Suddenly, he looked every inch the soldier, and a dangerous one at that. He did not need a uniform or a rifle for Phoebe to recognize the ruthless nature lurking beneath the polished exterior.
“Phoebe is my responsibility,” he said. “I will return for her in an hour and take her home.”
“Perhaps I can engage a hackney for my return to Mrs. Poole’s house,” Phoebe ventured. “I do not want to cause any inconvenience.”
“It’s no inconvenience,” Lucas said in a hard voice. “And you will remain here until I return to pick you up. Do you understand ?”
Speechless, she stared at him.
“There’s no need to go ordering your poor cousin about like she’s some raw recruit,” Uncle Arthur barked. “You’ll frighten her.”
Phoebe sighed. Her relatives must think her a poor dab of a girl, indeed. Not that she liked the way Lucas snarled at her, but she was not ready to hide under the sofa just yet.
Lucas raised his eyebrows in a skeptical arch. “Did I frighten you?”
“No. I simply do not wish to inconvenience you.”
Lord Silverton parted his lips in something that only remotely resembled a smile. “So, it’s settled then. We’ll take Phoebe home and you can run along to your important appointment.”
Lucas hissed out a breath, and Phoebe almost choked on the realization that the two men were staring at each other with hatred. It swirled so thickly around them that it almost made her ill, as did the notion they were using her as a means to express it.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Meredith exclaimed. She got up and dodged around the tea table, inserting herself between the two men. “Lucas,” she said, turning her back on her husband, “your sense of responsibility toward Phoebe is commendable, but you can’t be so selfish as to keep her all to yourself.” She sounded cheerful, but no one in the room could miss the warning in her voice. “We’ll take Phoebe home when she’s ready to go, and you can call on her later to finalize the arrangements for her move to Stanton House.”
As tall as Meredith was, Lucas still loomed over her, looking very intimidating. But Meredith simply stared up into his face, a little smile playing around her lips.
After a tense moment, he let out a grudging laugh. Much to Phoebe’s surprise, he bent to drop a quick kiss on Meredith’s cheek. Lord Silverton’s eyes narrowed but he remained silent.
“I stand corrected. Forgive me for being such a selfish brute.” He cast a hard glance at Lord Silverton. “This woman is too good for you. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” his cousin replied. “But that’s hardly any of your business.”
Meredith turned to her husband and began to scold him in a quiet but no less vehement tone.
“Phoebe,” Lucas said as he came to make his farewells, “I’ll see you tonight.”
She simply nodded, too distressed to say anything. Lucas bowed his good-byes and left the room. A few moments later, the other men repaired to the library, leaving Phoebe, Meredith, and Aunt Georgie to sit in pensive silence.
“Well,” Meredith finally said, “that was almost as awful as the last time they saw each other.”
“No, dear,” Aunt Georgie replied calmly. “It was much better. This time they didn’t try to hit each other, which I take as a sign of great progress.”
Chapter 5
Aunt Georgie sipped her tea, apparently unperturbed by the drama her nephews had inflicted on the family. Phoebe looked from her to Meredith, searching for some clue as to how to react.
Should she ignore what had transpired? Perhaps that would be the conduct expected of a lady of the ton, but she found herself too disturbed by the incident to pretend. After all, her future and her security were now in the hands of this family. She needed to be able to trust that they were kind and honorable people.
“Do they always act like that around each other?” she asked cautiously.
Meredith rolled her eyes. “Sadly, Aunt Georgina is right. It’s usually much worse. Last Easter they actually got into a fistfight, in the middle of my sister’s dining room. I had to fall into a fit of hysterics to get them to stop.”
Horrified, Phoebe clapped a hand to her cheek. “How awful for you!”
Meredith laughed. “Not really. I’ve never fallen into hysterics in my life, and Silverton knows it. But I was pregnant at the time, so it worked like a charm. Even he was fooled, and poor Lucas turned as white as a ghost.”
Aunt Georgie grimaced and set her teacup down. “As effective as Meredith’s intervention was, however, the damage was done. That fight brought years of bad blood to the fore. Instead of making their apologies to each other, and to the rest of us, Stephen blamed Meredith’s reaction on Lucas. Lucas then stalked out of the room and galloped off on his horse like a character from a melodrama. Ever since, they can barely stand to be in the same room. Only the combined pressure from the rest of us keeps them from repeating that unfortunate episode.”
Phoebe blindly reached for her cup and took a large gulp of tea to moisten her suddenly dry mouth. To know Lucas could act so violently was disturbing, to say the least. As for Lord Silverton, he did not seem the kind of man to engage in fisticuffs in front of his relatives.
A wave of trepidation swept over her as she realized how different life would be with the Stantons, and how much more complicated. She had certainly experienced times of strain and unhappiness in her brother’s household, even injured feelings, but no member of the family would ever speak to each other in the violent tones she had heard only moments ago.
And her brother, George, would die of shame if he ever lifted a hand in anger against any man. That kind of action was unthinkable among Quakers.
“Have they always been like that with each other?” she asked, trying to understand.
Aunt Georgie’s faded blue eyes filled with sadness. “They used to be the best of friends. When Stephen and Lucas were growing up, no two boys could have been closer. Stephen was a few years older and he always watched out for Lucas, who hero-worshipped him. Even when they went on to Eton and Oxford, they remained close.”
Meredith nodded. “Silverton rarely talks about Lucas, but once or twice, before he had the chance to think about it, he mentioned some youthful scrap or adventure of theirs.” She smiled at her aunt. “I take it there were quite a few back in their university days.”
“You have no idea. I always say they were the reason the General’s hair turned gray at such an early age. They were sent down from Oxford several times until Stephen began to mature and take his responsibilities more seriously.”
“Then what happened?” Phoebe asked. “How could they go from being so close to . . .”
Aunt Georgie grimaced. “Hatred? Only the oldest and most foolish reason known to man. They fell out over a woman.”
Phoebe’s mind went blank for a moment. Then, startled, she stared at Meredith.
Meredith threw up her hands. “No, it wasn’t me. But that makes it all the more ridiculous for Silverton to hold a grudge. He adores me and our twins, so why he should remain angry at Lucas over such an old dispute defies reason.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Sometimes the stubborn man needs a good slap. They both do.”
Phoebe’s eyes widened. Her Stanton relatives did seem to be a combative lot. Fitting in with them threatened to be a considerable challenge, one she was not sure she wished to take up.
Meredith took one look at her face and broke into laughter. “I’m joking, Phoebe. Forgive me. I assure you, no Stanton would ever raise a hand to anyone, except in self-defense.”
“Except for Lucas and your husband, apparently,” Phoebe could not help adding.
Meredith sighed. “Yes, except for them, but they’re just being stupid. The strange thing is, if Lucas ever needed Silverton’s help—I mean, really needed it—Silverton would climb mountains to do it.”
“And Lucas would do the same,” Aunt Georgie
said. “That’s why this entire situation is so absurd. But it’s been going on for so long I don’t think either of them knows how to get around it.”
Phoebe nodded. That she understood. If an injury was left untended it always festered, and that included injuries to the spirit.
“Who was the woman?” she asked. “Does Lucas still love this person?”
Meredith and Aunt Georgie exchanged glances, and Phoebe wanted to bite her tongue. What matter if Lucas loved another woman? Even though he had in essence asked Phoebe to marry him, she had no intention of doing so. After what she had seen today, she could hardly believe they would suit, and she found his anger and barely repressed aggression disconcerting, to say the least.
“No, dear,” Aunt Georgie replied. “This tawdry little situation happened many years ago. Silverton was twenty-three. Lucas had just turned twenty-one and had recently taken up his commission in the Dragoon Guards. They remained the greatest of friends, but life was beginning to pull them in different directions. Silverton was a marquess and had many responsibilities, while Lucas was embarking on what he perceived as a grand adventure.”
The old woman’s eyes warmed with memories. “They were both determined to make their mark in the world. And,” she added ruefully, “both were rather spoiled and too proud for their own good.”
“How very surprising,” Meredith said dryly.
Phoebe could not hold back a giggle.
“Well,” said Aunt Georgie, “they were both only sons, and much cherished by their families. Not to mention that both were ridiculously handsome from an early age. Women practically threw themselves at their feet.”
“They still do,” commented Meredith, taking her aunt’s teacup and refilling it.
“But Lord Silverton is a married man,” Phoebe exclaimed, scandalized. “How can women still pursue him?”
“You have a lot to learn about the ton, my dear cousin. Many of our acquaintances would never let something as trivial as marriage vows hold them back.”
Phoebe grimaced. The more she heard about the London aristocracy, the less she wanted to have anything to do with them. What she did want, though, was to hear more about Lucas and his cousin.
“Who was the woman who caused so much trouble?” she prodded.
“The woman in question was Esme Newton. She was a diamond of the first water,” replied Aunt Georgie.
Phoebe cast a puzzled look at Meredith, who nodded in understanding.
“That means she was a great beauty, Phoebe. Apparently, Esme held that distinction for three Seasons. And she was very well aware of it, from what I’ve been told.”
Aunt Georgie patted Meredith’s hand. “She didn’t hold a candle to you, my love, and Silverton knows that.”
“I’m sure,” she responded in a dry tone. She glanced at Phoebe and grinned. “As you can imagine, this is not a topic Silverton and I are fond of discussing.”
“I can imagine. But I still cannot understand how it occurred. How did this woman cause such a drastic falling out between cousins who revered each other so greatly? Surely they valued their friendship and family bond more than a woman, no matter how beautiful.”
Aunt Georgie and Meredith stared at her as if she had a large beetle perched on her nose.
“You don’t know very much about men, do you, Phoebe?” asked Meredith.
She shrugged. There was no point denying the truth.
“Silverton fell madly in love with Esme,” Aunt Georgie explained. “She was his first real love, which made it all the worse. He intended to marry her, and the only reason he delayed in asking was that his mother objected to the alliance.” She glanced over at Meredith. “Back then, Silverton actually thought he had to listen to his mother.”
The two women shared a laugh—Phoebe had no idea about what—and then Meredith took up the tale.
“Esme encouraged Silverton’s addresses, but she was also a terrible flirt. My husband was a great prize on the marriage mart, and Esme enjoyed keeping him on a string. She thought it added greatly to her consequence.”
Phoebe wrinkled her nose. “She sounds horrible.”
Aunt Georgie sighed. “Merely silly and spoiled. But poor Silverton was so head over heels in love that he allowed her to lead him around by the nose. He simply didn’t know what to do with her. Unfortunately, Lucas did.”
That did not sound good. “What did he do?”
“I don’t think Lucas initially meant to pursue her, but Esme thought it would be great sport to have two of the most eligible men in London—cousins, no less—at her beck and call. If she could make both men fall in love with her, it would be quite a feather in her cap.”
Phoebe shook her head, mystified at such cruel manipulation. But why did Lucas allow himself to become her pawn?
“How could Lucas do that to his cousin?” she blurted out. “How could he be so coldhearted?”
Aunt Georgie shook her head. “If Esme had just been flirting, Lucas would have seen through it. But she actually did develop strong feelings for him, even though I expect she never intended to. He was so very handsome and dashing in his uniform, and he has always had so much charm. What started as a lighthearted flirtation quickly developed into something more. Lucas was convinced Esme loved him, not Silverton. Under those circumstances, he felt justified in pursuing her. That error was compounded by the fact that Silverton had delayed his proposal, leading Lucas to believe his cousin wasn’t serious about Esme.”
“How unfortunate,” Phoebe said softly.
“Indeed. In any event, Lucas did pursue Esme, and quite masterfully. Despite the fact he was two years younger than Silverton, he had a great deal of boldness. He courted Esme with a single-minded purpose that left no one in doubt as to what he wanted.”
Phoebe discovered she was clenching her hands into fists. Startled, she opened them, smoothing her damp palms against her skirt.
“Why did they not marry?” she asked, feeling rather bleak about the whole thing. She could well imagine Lucas had never stopped loving this woman, no matter what anyone said.
“Esme never had any intention of marrying Lucas,” Aunt Georgie said bitterly. “Once he formally proposed, she realized her mistake. Silverton was always the prize for her. After all, he was a wealthy peer whereas Lucas, while possessing a handsome income, was a soldier just starting his career. So, Esme rebuffed him. Quite thoroughly, I suspect, if his subsequent reaction was any indication.”
Phoebe pressed a hand to her chest, heartsick. From the first, she had sensed that Lucas lived according to a strict code of honor, and to be treated so dishonestly by the woman he loved would have inflicted a terrible blow on his pride.
“Lucas must have been devastated,” she said.
“He was furious,” Meredith replied. “He blamed Silverton, claiming he deliberately turned Esme against him. That particular conversation did not end well.”
Aunt Georgie nodded. “That incident ended in a fight in this house, in your uncle’s library. If it had been allowed to run its course, it might have ended there. My husband, wise in the ways of proud young men, initially made no attempt to stop it. Unfortunately, Silverton’s mother—a very foolish woman—heard the commotion. She burst into the library and promptly fell into hysterics, forcing the General to end the fight.”
“How could that be a bad thing?” Phoebe protested.
“Because they needed to get the poison out of their systems,” Meredith explained. “Silverton accused Lucas of acting dishonorably, and Lucas then felt he had no choice but to challenge him to a duel.”
Phoebe gazed at her with horror. “You mean they actually tried to kill each other?”
Aunt Georgie shook her head. “It never would have come to that. But young men are notorious for lack of common sense, so your uncle again was forced to intervene. He absolutely forbade them to duel, and shipped Lucas off the next day to join his regiment in the Peninsula.”
Phoebe slumped in her chair. “Thank God.”
Phoebe reached over to touch her aunt’s hand. “That must be very difficult for you. I am so sorry.”
The older woman gave her a lovely smile. “In reality, we were all able to ignore it for a very long time. Lucas has spent the last twelve years in the army, and made a point of rarely being home. And even when he was in London, he and Silverton avoided each other.”
“Unfortunately,” Meredith interjected, “your grandfather’s death changed all that. It forced Lucas to sell his commission and come home to take up the earldom. He and Silverton can no longer avoid each other, and both appear to be very good at holding on to grudges.”
Aunt Georgie gave a delicate shrug. “Silverton and Lucas will scrape along somehow. If they don’t, we’ll eventually have to force them. But right now, we have more important matters to attend to. Namely, what’s to be done about Phoebe.”
Phoebe jerked a bit, sloshing some of her tea into the saucer. She carefully set the cup down onto the tray.
“I understood I was coming to stay with you, at least for a little while,” she said, trying not to sound anxious.
The older woman gave her a blinding smile. “Of course you will, Phoebe. Your room has already been prepared, and you can stay as long as you want. I’m talking about your future here in England, and what you might be envisioning.”
Phoebe hesitated, not sure what to say. “I . . . I do not know. My grandfather’s death was such a shock, and I have not had a chance to think much beyond that.”
Both women nodded sympathetically but still regarded her with expectant looks on their faces.
She took a breath and forged ahead. “Lucas suggests that I stay at least until the spring. He said if I then wished to return to America, he would escort me back himself.”