Forever Phoebe by Chalon Linton
Chapter 22
Despite pressing his eyes closed and counting to one thousand two hundred and fifty-seven, Franklin did not sleep. He thought about Miss Jamison running her fingers through his hair. The sensation of her hands on his scalp. The way her breath had tickled the back of his neck. He did not sleep, but he was beyond content.
On the morrow, Franklin returned to Ravencrest. Exhaustion raked over his entire body, and he did not argue when his mother insisted he lie down. When he woke from his nap, he discovered his mother had settled herself in the largest of the guest chambers and declared her intent to remain at Ravencrest for the foreseeable future. Thurston told Franklin all of this while helping him into a clean set of clothes.
“Mrs. Everly also scolded Mrs. Gladstone for not having a proper menu arranged for the remainder of the week. Mrs. Thurston insisted she was to blame, as she is still learning her duties,” Thurston said. He held Franklin’s jacket while Franklin inserted his right arm into the sleeve. He then draped the left side over Franklin’s shoulder as the bulky splint would not fit into the sleeve.
“I hope my mother was not too hard on either of them. Mrs. Thurston has done an excellent job. Both of you arrived to a rather scattered household. We are progressing, and I am hopeful that with your assistance, Ravencrest will soon be a respectable estate.” Franklin looped the sling over his head and rested his injured arm in the fabric cradle. “My mother is a straightforward individual.” He turned to look at Thurston. “Please do not take offense at her direct manner.”
Thurston bowed his head. “Mrs. Thurston holds Mrs. Everly in great respect and hopes she will mentor her in the proper way of doing things.”
Franklin chuckled. “Once my mother begins, Mrs. Thurston may rethink her wish.”
He dismissed Thurston, intent on visiting with his mother. He did not find Mrs. Everly in the drawing room, but a young girl worked in the corner, dusting a cabinet filled with a collection of dishes. Franklin asked the girl where he might find his mother, and she directed him to the music room.
As he walked through the house, Franklin twisted and strained, stretched and slouched, in an attempt to gauge how the injury on his back fared. He was pleased that the stitches had closed the wound. No infection had surfaced, and only minimal pain remained. His activities would be only slightly limited. His bruises and scrapes were mostly healed. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for his arm. Doctor Daniels had insisted the splint should be worn for another six weeks.
The heavy gold-colored drapes of the music room had been pulled wide open. Mrs. Everly stood in the center of the room, and two maids pulled the dust cloths from a grand harp. The pianoforte had been uncovered, as well as two intricately carved music stands.
“Hello, Mother,” Franklin said. He bent low to kiss his mother’s cheek.
“Are you rested?” Mrs. Everly looked him over.
“I’m quite improved.” Franklin surveyed the room. “Were you wanting to play the pianoforte?” His mother had played oft throughout Franklin’s childhood. Her music accompanied many happy memories of family gatherings.
“I suppose if the room is aired, I might play a bit.” Mrs. Everly directed the servants to uncover the large sofa. As they worked, she continued. “There’s much work to do.”
Franklin ducked his head. “That seems to be the state of affairs. I’m afraid my injury has set me back.”
Mrs. Everly waved dismissively. “I’m not dissuaded by a challenge.” She walked in front of the now-uncovered sofa and ran a finger along one of the gold-embroidered cushions. The servants next uncovered a set of four matching wainscot chairs. Mrs. Everly clapped her hands in delight. “These are splendid!”
“So there is hope?” Franklin asked with a hint of a smile.
Mrs. Everly encouraged the servants to continue airing the room. When she turned to Franklin, her features softened. She hooked her left arm through Franklin’s right arm, and they walked into the corridor. “The estate has some lovely furniture. Ravencrest was designed methodically. The prospect from the tall windows in the grand hall is winsome, and you’ve the means and determination to put it all to rights.”
“My household staff is new, but they seem willing to work and be taught. I hope you will help in that regard,” Franklin said.
“Of course, my dear.” Mrs. Everly stopped walking and looked around. Silver sconces formed an orderly pattern down the length of the corridor. A watercolor painting of an overgrown garden hung to the right, and a series of four themed tapestries adorned the wall to the left. “I suggest new paper in the breakfast room, and some of the bedrooms need new linens, something brighter than dull green and gray. I recommend new furnishings in the morning room and your study—”
“I’m quite content with the arrangement of the study,” Franklin said.
“Very well. It is your room, so of course you may do as you please. But the other rooms do require some attention.” Mrs. Everly slipped her arm free and glanced sideways at her son. “You know I’m more than willing to assist. You really do require a woman’s hand for such improvements. Mrs. Thurston lacks experience, though she will certainly learn.” She blinked a few times and smiled at her son. “Or perhaps there is another lady you have considered for the task.”
Franklin raised his brow. “Are you insinuating something, Mother?”
“I’m only wondering if Ravencrest can look forward to a Mrs. Franklin Everly in the future.” His mother clasped her hands primly and waited patiently for Franklin’s reply.
“I’ve no intention of remaining a bachelor.” Franklin turned to continue down the corridor, and Mrs. Everly huffed behind him.
“Surely, you’ve met the local gentry?” She scurried to catch up with her son. “Did any of the ladies please you?” Franklin smiled and kept walking without offering a reply. “What of dinner parties or picnics?” Mrs. Everly asked as she caught up to him. “Has no one caught your eye?”
They entered the drawing room. The maid had finished her task, and they were alone. “Mother, I welcome your direction on the improvements of the estate. I am grateful you are here, and you may call Ravencrest home for as long as you wish.” Franklin walked to his mother and lifted her hand in his. “However, please do not meddle in my personal affairs. We’ve both learned our lesson on this count.” He squeezed her fingers, a reminder of the blunder they’d both made interfering in his elder brother’s relationship with his new wife. When she first came to Everly Manor, very little was known of the woman. Mrs. Everly’s concerns were valid, and her only intention had been to protect Barton. But when Franklin had carried out his mother’s request and begun making inquiries about Miss Stafford’s character, he had put both her and his brother in danger.
“You are right, of course,” Mrs. Everly said. “I will not interfere.” She touched Franklin’s cheek with her free hand. “At least, not so very much.”
***
The next few days passed in similar fashion. Mrs. Everly guided Mrs. Thurston in her duties and suggested some new dishes for Mrs. Gladstone to prepare.
Mr. Gladstone managed the stables with a precision Franklin had not before seen from the man. Tack was sorted and repaired, saddles were polished, and materials were ordered for improvements on the stables. Franklin promised Gladstone he would speak with Sunter about funds for a new team to pull the carriage.
He left the stables with a hopeful spring in his step.
“Hello, there.” Jamison approached on horseback, accompanied by Miss Vane and Miss Jamison.
Franklin walked to greet them. “Welcome.”
“Phoebe insisted we look in on you,” Jamison said with a grin.
Franklin watched Miss Jamison. She frowned at her brother but did not refute his words.
“I heard it was a most dreadful accident,” Miss Vane said. “I must say I am surprised to see you up and about.”
“I’m improving daily. ’Tis only my arm that hinders my routine.” Franklin held his sling for Miss Vane to see. “May I convince you to stay for tea? Mother would enjoy the company.”
Miss Jamison looked to her brother, who began dismounting. “Very well,” Jamison said.
Franklin called for two boys to come tend the horses. Jamison stepped to help Miss Vane, and Franklin moved to assist Miss Jamison. Only once he stood beside Miss Jamison’s horse did he realize his blunder.
“My apologies, Miss Jamison.” He looked again at his broken arm. “Shall I ask for your brother’s assistance?”
“Oh.” Miss Jamison looked over her shoulder to where Jamison and Miss Vane stood talking. She turned back to Franklin with a look of determination. “Step closer, if you will.”
Franklin obliged.
“Grover, my horse, is not as tall as Sundance. I believe I can step down from the saddle. I only require your hand so I don’t lose my balance,” Miss Jamison said.
Franklin reached his right hand upward, and Miss Jamison wrapped her gloved fingers around his. She lifted her right leg from the pommel and held on to Grover’s mane as she turned and slid her other leg free. When both feet were on the ground, she turned to Franklin. Her bonnet shaded her face, but her green eyes glistened as she met his gaze. She slowly pulled her hand free.
“Thank you,” she said.
“My pleasure.” Franklin grinned.
“Your invitation is most welcome,” Jamison said, pulling Franklin’s attention to where he stood.
Franklin motioned to the front door. “Please follow me.” He led his guests to the drawing room and requested Thurston call for tea and inform his mother of their visitors.
Mrs. Everly appeared shortly after. Miss Vane was introduced, and all the proper niceties were exchanged.
“Have you heard word of the investigation?” Jamison asked Franklin.
“Investigation?” Mrs. Everly asked.
Jamison related a brief timeline of the kidnapper and his victims. He also outlined the steps taken to apprehend the man. “He’s been nicknamed the Bride Snatcher,” he added.
“Do you mean to say . . . ?” Mrs. Everly began.
“He’s selling the women as brides,” Jamison confirmed.
“It’s dreadful, is it not?” Miss Vane said with wide eyes.
Jamison looked at the two women beside him and nodded. “The man revealed his scheme to Miss Mathers, not realizing his pronouncement would result in her valiant effort to escape. Surely, he will not attempt another kidnapping when the entire county is looking for him.”
“He has previously proven his brazen nature, so we must be aware. He steals the women at all hours of the day. He abducted Miss Mathers directly from her estate.” Miss Jamison’s gaze met Franklin’s. Her chin inched upward. “I don’t believe he will behave in a predictable manner.” Her argument held merit.
“This is troubling indeed,” Mrs. Everly said. “I do hope they apprehend him quickly.”
Mrs. Thurston delivered the tea tray.
“Until he is captured, we must stay vigilant,” Jamison said. “It is only a matter of time until he is found.”
“Let us talk of it no more. It is quite upsetting.” Mrs. Everly poured out, taking special notice of how each guest took their tea. She spoke of the improvements to the estate. “Franklin has hired the most capable staff,” she said.
Franklin swallowed. “Actually, Miss Jamison and Miss Vane interviewed the girls, Mother. I did not know the first thing about it, and they graciously agreed to assist me.”
“I was not aware,” Mrs. Everly confessed. “Franklin is indebted to you, then.” A calculating gleam flashed through her eyes. “We’ve recently aired the music room. The pianoforte is in fine condition, and there is a beautifully strung harp as well. Do you know of anyone who plays?”
“I’ve always longed to play the harp,” Miss Vane said. “My mother plays, but I lack her grace. I enjoy the pianoforte, but my skills are unremarkable.” She looked at Jamison, and a faint blush filled her cheeks. She turned away from him, but turned back just as quickly, as though a sudden thought had struck her. “Miss Jamison plays the pianoforte.”
Jamison snickered and took another bite of his biscuit.
Miss Jamison smiled her resignation. “My brother is, unfortunately, right in his reaction. I play very poorly.”
“Come, it can’t be so poor if Miss Vane thought of your performance,” Franklin said.
“Now that I think on it, Miss Jamison did have need of improvement.” Miss Vane’s shoulders slumped. “Sorry, my friend.” She covered Miss Jamison’s hand with her own.
Miss Jamison laughed lightly. “It is true. My skills are greatly lacking. I confess I preferred to chase Peter around the garden rather than practice my pieces. Abraham, though, plays quite well.”
“Then, we should have a night of music,” Mrs. Everly said. “Do you think a few of the neighbors would be agreeable?”
“Abraham does not enjoy playing for large gatherings, but I think he would be amiable to entertaining a few close friends,” Miss Jamison said. “What do you think, Geoffrey?”
“He will do it.” Jamison inclined his head to Franklin’s mother. “Particularly if you make the request, Mrs. Everly.”
“Splendid.” Franklin’s mother smiled. “I play as well, and Franklin can sing a song or two.”
Franklin raised his brows. “I am to be included in your scheme?”
“A broken bone does not hinder your vocal chords,” Mrs. Everly chided. She placed a hand upon her heart. “Won’t you indulge me, Franklin? I am in need of a night of entertainment.”
“We may host a musicale, but I do not plan to sing. We should reserve the evening to those possessing true talent.” Franklin smiled and shook his head.
“Oh.” Miss Vane sat straighter. “Mr. Mason sings as well. He has a marvelous baritone.”
Of course he does, Franklin thought.
“He must be included,” Mrs. Everly said. “We shall ask him directly.”
“When is this musicale to be?” Franklin asked his mother.
“One week from today,” she replied.
They visited a little longer, and then Franklin and Mrs. Everly walked their guests to the door, where Thurston handed over their things. Jamison stood beside Miss Vane, and Mrs. Everly asked the girl to extend the invitation to her family and, more particularly, for her mother to play. While they discussed the arrangements, Franklin took the opportunity to speak privately to Miss Jamison.
“Your visit was most fortuitous,” Franklin said. “Now Mother may have her night of music.”
“I’m sorry we arrived unannounced.” She pulled on her riding gloves.
“You will always be welcome at Ravencrest,” Franklin said.
“Even in a torrential downpour?” Miss Jamison asked with a mischievous grin.
“Especially then, although you may find yourself in need of a new riding habit.”
Miss Jamison’s laugh rang like a happy melody. Franklin’s smile grew. He had fallen for the woman before him. Wholly.
“You will come to the musicale?” he asked.
Miss Jamison ducked her head. “I look forward to it.”
Franklin’s pulse sped. “As do I.”