A Porcelain Viscountess by Hazel Linwood

Chapter 12

Francis realized that their positions had brought them nearly level in head height. With him two steps down on the staircase and Lady Ridlington on the top step, he could look her directly in the eye.

She was staring at him, waiting for him to say what he had pleaded with her to stay and hear, but now he was about to say it, the words faltered. He was distracted once again by how close they were, thinking of a kiss, something that was so out of bounds.

He looked away, far from those green eyes and down at the floorboards of the stairs between them. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to quell the fluttering in his stomach.

It had been sometime since his head had been turned by any woman, let alone someone whose life was as complicated as Lady Ridlington’s was. Giving into this bond between them…this flirtation, that was yet also filled with admiration for her, well, it could hardly end well.

She is married to another for starters.

It reminded him of a time in his life long ago, when he had first experimented with the idea of love and realized that it was not an experiment that he wanted to make again. Marriage had been the same thing then that had broken his heart. He would not allow himself to risk such heartbreak again.

“You wanted to say something,” Lady Ridlington was prompting him on.

He looked up from the staircase, back toward her, finding his throat a little more tightly constricted than before.

“There is no need to avoid me, my Lady,” he said, keeping his voice just a whisper. “You are in my house as a guest, not as a prisoner. I would hate for you to make yourself a prisoner whilst you are here.”

She seemed to soften at his words.

“As you wish,” she said gently. “Now, may I trust that you will not refer to this topic again?”

“Which topic?” he asked, pretending innocence, watching as her eyes narrowed on him.

“You know very well which topic.”

He couldn’t resist flirting with her a little more.

“Was it discussing what happened in the sports room or the riddle about kissing at dinner?”

“Both!” she said, throwing up her arms and hurrying away from him across the landing. He laughed softly as she turned her back before climbing up the last two steps and crossing the landing toward his own chamber.

Once locked inside, he took off his own padding and began to prepare himself for his bath before readying for dinner. After calling for the valet to prepare the bath, he sat there for some time, just in the water, frequently splashing his face with the water droplets that were growing colder and colder as he thought of Lady Ridlington and what had happened in the sports room.

“I cannot have a woman in my life,” he whispered to himself as he splashed his face another time.

He could remember that old feeling clear enough now. Like daylight after a dark night, the warmth of seeing someone he cared for again, someone that could assuage all the sadness of a stressful day. It was a long time since he’d had that feeling.

“What a shame it had to end the way it did,” he sighed as he slipped back under the water, putting his face under the surface completely.

* * *

“You can barely stand still,” Hayward said, chuckling as Phoebe bobbed on her toes. She had been at his house for four days in total now and the quietness was beginning to get to her. “Are you really this excited to see my sister?”

“I am, truly I am,” Phoebe said, looking away from him and back toward the door in the entrance hall where they were standing. “It can be very quiet in your house, Your Grace, I long for some company.”

“Too quiet,” Hayward agreed with a sigh. “I cannot bear it.”

“Can’t you?” she asked, turning back to him.

“Well, whilst I am pleased you are not avoiding me anymore –”

“I thought we agreed not to talk about that?” Phoebe said with a whisper, glancing toward the butler nearby who was looking out of the window, waiting for their guests’ arrival.

“Yes, I remember,” he said chuckling. “Let’s just say I miss travelling, with all the excitement it offers.”

“You mentioned Egypt the other night?” She could remember clearly their conversation over their dance where he had talked with excitement about travelling to Cairo and to see the ancient pyramids.

“I am already planning the trip. I should be gone for a few months at least.”

“A few months?” she repeated in surprise, looking back at him.

“Yes, is that a problem?” he asked, raising a single eyebrow.

“No, no problem,” she said hurriedly before turning her gaze back to the door. The butler now opened the door, revealing a glimpse of a carriage pulling up outside.

There was something about the idea of not seeing Hayward of Hayward again for months that made Phoebe shift between her feet and rearrange the ribbon around her neck self-consciously.

Must he really be gone so long?

“You are still wearing that ribbon,” Hayward whispered, moving toward her side as the butler hurried out of the entrance hall and off to the carriage.

“What?” Phoebe took hold of the ribbon tighter around her neck.

“Is the bruise still visible?” he asked, pointing to her neck.

“You…you know about it?” she asked, feeling a little breathy.

“I could see it the night at the assembly,” he said softly. “Is it still visible?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she said miserably, lowering her hand and looking down at the floor.

A string of curses erupted from him, so strong that she snapped her head up toward him.

“I’m sorry,” he said hurriedly, “I should not use such language, but the fact that he…” He breathed in deeply then sighed. He looked pained, as though he had been physically hurt too.

Phoebe lifted a hand without thinking and placed it on Hayward’s arm, trying to offer some silent comfort that she could not give with words. He didn’t step out from her grasp.

“Well, I am glad to see you are still here!” Lady Dodge’s voice echoed as she entered the room made Phoebe lowered her hand and turned to see her friend hurrying toward her. “I hear at one point you were threatening to return home on my account, I am relieved to see it is not the case. I hope my brother is being a good host to you,” Lady Dodge said, taking Phoebe’s hands and placing a kiss to her cheek.

“I am the finest of hosts,” Hayward said with a falsely proud smile at himself. “I have not frightened her away yet, have I?”

As the Marquess of Dodge approached Hayward and shook his hand, they exchanged a few lower words, giving Lady Dodge the chance to loop her arm through Phoebe’s and lead her toward the drawing room.

“There is much we must talk about,” Lady Dodge said with a whisper.

“I heard about what my husband said to you. I am so sorry,” Phoebe said, holding onto her friend.

“Oh, do not worry about that. He certainly shocked me at the time, but he has not been back to the house since, so I think we managed to convince him that we do not know where you are.” Lady Dodge led Phoebe to the other side of the drawing room and urged Phoebe to sit down with her at a settee. “Now, before dinner, I wish to be certain that my brother is taking care of you, despite all his jests.”

“Taking care of me?” Phoebe said with a laugh. “Well, yes, he is a very good host.”

“No, I want to make sure he is being more than a host,” Lady Dodge said with a soft shake of her head. “Everyone can be a good host. You have been through a lot, my friend, and your husband has sent out constables searching for you. Anyone would need someone watching over them.”

“I suppose so,” Phoebe said as she glanced across the room to where Hayward and the Marquess were walking in, already collecting glasses of port from a drink’s cabinet at the side of the room.

He is taking care of me. The thought struck hard as she thought of all that had happened since her arrival, from Hayward’s intent to see her smile, down to teaching her to sword fight. He is a caring man indeed.

“You can rest assured, your brother is looking out for me,” Phoebe said softly, earning a great smile from her friend.

* * *

“That was an interesting dinner,” Josiah said after Diana and Lady Ridlington had retired to the drawing room for tea. Francis and Josiah stayed in the dining room for a few minutes as the butler poured out two brandies for them and left them alone.

“In what way?” Francis asked, with his eyes still tarrying on the doorway through which Lady Ridlington had left.

“You and your guest seem to get on very well.”

“She is easy to get along with,” Francis said nonchalantly and turned back to his friend. “I have rarely met anyone like her.”

“What does that mean?” Josiah asked, pausing with his brandy and tilting his head to the side.

“Nothing,” Francis said with innocence, realizing how close he had come to singing Lady Ridlington’s praises. “She…well, she has a fine humor for one thing.”

“That is the only thing you admire in her?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So, you admire her for other reasons too?” Josiah’s words made Francis look up from his brandy glass again and offer his friend a frown.

“You are causing trouble, Josiah,” Francis warned. “Is not this situation troubling enough as it is without such jests?”

“Perhaps so,” Josiah said with a shrug, “it is merely that I have never seen you so engaged with a young lady before.”

“We have become friends whilst she has been in my house, that is all,” Francis said, wanting to believe it. He focused back on the brandy and gulped it, trying to distract himself from Josiah’s words. His liking for Lady Ridlington was troubling enough without someone else having noticed it.

“That is all? You are simply Lady Ridlington’s friend now?”

“Yes, that is all,” Francis said, pushing back your chair. “And if you continue to cause such trouble with your words, then maybe we should follow the ladies into the drawing room to put an end to the conversation.”

Josiah laughed heartily as he too stood to his feet and followed Francis out of the dining room.

“I think you are a little touchy on the subject,” Josiah whispered as they neared the drawing room.

“I am not,” Francis said, keeping his gaze averted. “I am merely…”

“Avoiding the topic entirely?” Josiah teased.

“That is enough,” Francis warned, earning another small laugh from Josiah. As the two of them walked into the drawing room, Francis could see Diana and Lady Ridlington look up in surprise at them being joined so soon.

“You have left dinner very quickly,” Diana said, looking up from the card table where she and Lady Ridlington were playing a game.

“Conversation wasn’t interesting without you two,” Francis jested, relieved to see more laughter and put an end to Josiah’s teasing for good.

“This is the most important part of our conversation for the entire evening, in truth,” Josiah said as he delved a hand into a pocket and pulled out a closed letter. He took a seat on a settee nearby, proffering the letter in one hand and balancing his brandy glass in the other.

“What is it?” Francis asked as he sat down on the settee as well. He lowered his brandy glass down to a table nearby and took the letter from his brother-in-law’s fingers.

“I have written to a solicitor in town that specializes in these matters,” Josiah said and gestured toward Lady Ridlington in the room. She clearly heard the words as she broke off from where she and Diana had been playing cribbage and looked their way, hurriedly placing down her hand of cards.

“He has replied? Already?” Francis asked, turning the letter over.

“Yes,” Josiah said, returning his focus to the brandy. “He has addressed his reply to you. He is the only one I have told that this is where our friend is staying.”

Francis could see Lady Ridlington stand to her feet and cross the room, with Diana following closely behind. Hurriedly, Francis jumped to his feet and retrieving a letter opener from a nearby drawer, pulling open the parchment and the wax, to reveal the letter beneath.

To His Grace, the Duke of Hayward,

I understand that you wish to employ me to act on the behalf of Lady Phoebe Ridlington, who is currently residing in your house at this present time. From the few particulars I know, I understand there is much secrecy involved in this case. Bearing this in mind, we must proceed with caution.

I wish to meet Lady Ridlington so that we may discuss the particulars of her wishes. I know to see my arrival at your estate would no doubt cause a stir in your household, and we do not wish for tongues to gossip at this present time! In which case, I bid you to bring Lady Ridlington to my office on Fleet Street in the city in two days’ time, at six in the evening. Most of my normal business will be concluded by this time and we can then be certain that Lady Ridlington will not be seen.

Please see the particulars regarding my rates of payment enclosed.

Write back at your earliest convenience.

Yours, et cetera,

Mr Norman Preston

“What does it say?” Lady Ridlington’s voice urged Francis to look up from the letter.

“He wishes us to take you into town.”

“What? Into the city?” Lady Ridlington asked, walking around the furniture and coming increasingly closer to him, the panic evident in her eyes that darted to and fro. “I would be seen! Graham has many friends in the city. Many men who work for him too. If I go there, it would be walking back into his clutches.”

“I agree,” Diana said as she took a seat beside Josiah.

“It cannot be done,” Lady Ridlington said, taking another step toward Francis.

He lost interest in the letter. Seeing Lady Ridlington so panicked, he threw it down on the nearest table and moved toward her, gently placing his hands on her upper arms and holding her there. She seemed to soften instantly at his touch.

“There is no need to fear,” he assured her. “If that is not what you wish to do, then we will find another way.”

“Cannot the solicitor come here?” Diana asked from nearby.

“He’d be seen by the staff,” Lady Ridlington answered.

“Exactly,” Francis agreed with a slow nod.

“Then I have to go into the city?” she asked, her spine going rigid. He brushed one hand down her arm a little more, desperate to comfort her, then was relieved when her spine softened a little.

“There may be another way, we’ll think about it,” he assured her.

“That’s right, we’ll think of something,” Diana said decisively. As Francis looked to his sister and brother-in-law, he noticed the way that Josiah was looking at him. The eyes almost calculating as he glanced between Francis and Lady Ridlington a few times.

Francis snatched his hands away from Lady Ridlington, so fast, it was as though the touch had burned him, before retreating to pick up the letter again. He tried not to connect his gaze with Josiah’s, fearful of what he read in his friend’s expression.

“Where is the solicitor based?” Diana asked, moving straight back to business.

“Fleet Street,” Francis said, walking away from Lady Ridlington and putting a little distance between the two of them, before taking the armchair opposite where his guests sat.

“Right in the center,” Josiah said, shaking his head. “It’s no use, even if you went late at night, with the carriage windows darkened, she could still be seen going from the carriage to the office. If constables are out searching the city for you as well, Lady Ridlington, I fear it could be a way that they would find you.”

She was looking more and more despondent as she placed her hands on her hips and turned away from them, evidently deep in thought. Francis longed to return to her and comfort her again, but the memory of the way Josiah had watched the two of them together made him keep his focus on the letter in his hand instead.

“What if she couldn’t be recognized?” Diana asked, sitting forward in her chair.

“Have you developed some magical skills whilst I have been away on the continent, Diana?” Francis asked with a smile. “For if you can transform the way someone looks, I think that would be quite the most miraculous thing I had ever seen.”

“Such a thing is accomplishable without magic, you fool,” she said, waving her hands in his direction. “What if we were to disguise her in different clothes?”

“She stills looks like herself,” Francis said distractedly. “Those green eyes anyone can spot too easily. They’re too…”

“Noticed them, did you?” Josiah said, his tone teasing. Francis looked up from his letter, offering one glare at Josiah, realizing he had almost just confessed to the hold that Lady Ridlington’s beauty had over him.

“You’re not listening to me,” Diana said, waving her hands again. “Lady Ridlington, tell me what you think of my idea?”

“What exactly is the idea?” she asked.

“What if we disguised you…as a boy?”