A Porcelain Viscountess by Hazel Linwood
Chapter 20
“What did you say?” Francis said, looking up from where he had been overseeing the unpacking of his sister’s bags. He turned his eyes to where Diana was clasping Lady Ridlington’s hands.
“No, no,” Diana said, shaking her head. “You cannot give up now.”
“He ransacked your house; he may have hurt you. How can I continue to risk that?” Lady Ridlington said, stepping back, as though going to release Diana’s hands, but she did not let her. Francis found his feet taking him forward, going to follow her. Josiah shook his head and went to oversee the bags himself, clearly deciding he had no part in the conversation. Francis was not so prepared to let this go.
“You cannot go back to him now,” he said, stepping up to Lady Ridlington’s side and earning her panicked gaze.
“Look at what happened to your sister,” she said with feeling, gesturing toward Diana. “What kind of friend would I be if I continued to let her risk so much for me?”
“What kind of friend would I be if I let you give up now?” Diana exclaimed, much louder than Lady Ridlington had done. “No, you are not going back, you cannot.”
“I…” Lady Ridlington trailed off, looking between the two of them. “I have to. What if he comes after you again?”
Francis couldn’t hear another word of this. He had to put the matter to bed, once and for all.
“Diana and Josiah are going to stay here for a while,” he said loudly, stopping Lady Ridlington from making anymore objections. “Here, they will be safe. He doesn’t know they are here, and he has no need to. You are mad if you think after all this, I am going to let you go back to a man like that now.”
“You won’t?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“I won’t,” he said, staring at her so hard that it was clearly difficult for her to look away. “Quite frankly, if you make any attempt to go back to him, I’ll merely go after him to stop him from ever hurting you again.”
“Francis!” Diana said in surprise, looking at him. “You would hurt him? You could end up in prison for such a thing.”
“What do I care about that?” Francis said, looking to his sister. “If it will keep her safe, then I will quite happily take the sacrifice.”
“You would do that?” Lady Ridlington asked, earning his gaze.
“I would,” he promised her. “So, I will hear no more words about this, my Lady. You are not going back to him, or I will simply have to follow you. Now, let’s get everyone inside.” He took control of the situation, turned and beckoned the bags to be taken in by the footmen, walking in ahead of the others.
He’d made up his mind and was willing to take the sacrifice, fully meaning his words. If Lady Ridlington went back to the Viscount, Francis would take it into his own hands to make sure the Viscount couldn’t ever hurt her.
* * *
“I think I will retire early for the night,” Diana said as she stood to her feet, looking around the room as she left her game of cards with Lady Ridlington. “It has been an eventful day; I’ll be better after some sleep.”
“Sleep well,” Lady Ridlington said as she packed away the cards, offering a smile.
Francis watched them both from where he sat by the fire, reading a book beside Josiah who had another book in his hands. To Francis’ mind, neither of them were doing very well at reading, they kept just looking toward the ladies as they played cards.
“I’ll retire with you too,” Josiah said, closing the book.
“Not taking in a word?” Francis asked with a knowing smile.
“Not one,” Josiah said, shaking his head as he stood to his feet. Francis knew very well what was on his mind, stopping him from reading freely. It was fear for the woman he cared so much about.
At this thought, Francis’ eyes flicked back to Lady Ridlington as she left the cards in the middle of the table and stood to her feet.
“Good night,” Francis bid to his sister and brother-in-law as they left the room, leaving him alone with Lady Ridlington. She moved forward, taking the chair beside him that had just been vacated by Josiah and sitting on the very edge, wringing her hands together. “Finding yourself unable to relax?”
“A little,” she confessed as she stared at the fire beside him. With the sun long gone and the night sky beyond the windows, it was the fire light and the few candles in the room that lit her before him, casting yellow hues across her face, and making her blue eyes almost silver. “I keep thinking of what you were saying earlier today.”
“Yes?” he asked, closing the cover of his book, now having lost all interest in it completely.
“Did you mean what you said?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the fireplace between them as the flames crackled and made the wood snap.
“The part about going after the Viscount?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I meant every word.” This time, his words urged her to look up at him. She didn’t say anything for a minute, she just continued to look at him, apparently searching for something to say. “I have startled you,” he summarized after a moment.
“You have no idea how much,” she said with a disbelieving headshake. “You are prepared to be punished in a court of law and go to prison, maybe worse, just to see me safe?”
“Yes,” he said, without hesitation.
“But…you would be exchanging your life for mine, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, and?” he said, still not seeing a problem with the situation. She lifted her hands up to her face, covering her mouth though she held his gaze. “Which part about this surprises you? The fact that I am willing to be violent towards the Viscount, or the fact that I am willing to make that sacrifice?”
“The sacrifice!” she said with surprising animation, flinging her hands down by her side. Her manner was abruptly so alight that Francis moved to the edge of his seat, inching a little closer toward her. “No one has ever said such a thing to me before. That you would be willing to do that…” She broke off and covered her mouth yet again with both hands.
Francis moved out of his seat, glancing toward the door out of fear that his family would return, or the butler would walk in, but the door remained firmly closed. With that freedom, he knelt down in front of her, softly taking her wrists and trying to pull them away from her face.
“Please, listen to me, Lady R…” He stopped. He was tired of calling her by her husband’s name. It suggested she still belonged to the Viscount, something that Francis couldn’t stand. “Phoebe.” He used her first name. The surprise made her hands a little limper, allowing him to pull away her hands so he could see her face fully. “Can I call you that?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, eagerly with a nod.
“Quite frankly, I never expected to hear myself willing to make such a sacrifice either.” His words brought a small smile to her face. From the grasp he had on her wrists, he altered it, until their palms slid together, and he entwined her fingers with his own. “Now, there is not a doubt in my mind. I will not let him hurt you again, come what may.”
“I do not know what I did to earn your kindness,” she said with her eyes glistening, on the verge of tears.
“You should never have to earn kindness, Phoebe. That is not the way the world works,” he said, his tone so strong it surprised himself, despite the quietness of it. “What a world you have been in to think that kindness is a rare thing?”
He loosened one of his hands in hers and lifted it slowly up to her, knowing that she might push him away at any moment, knowing as well that what he wanted to do was forbidden, yet unable to stop himself anyway. He pulled one of the locks of hair that was dangling down by her cheek back, and tucked it behind her ear, using the action to allow him to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. She leaned into the touch a little, her eyes fluttering closed as she indulged in it.
“We shouldn’t be so close,” she whispered after a minute, though she still stayed there, holding his touch.
“Would you like me to retreat?” he asked, knowing he would do anything that she asked of him.
“No,” she said, opening her eyes. “Don’t go.”
It was the only encouragement he needed. He used his soft hold on her cheek to pull her forward, just an inch, testing the waters. When she still didn’t ask him to stop but instead allowed her eyes to close another time, he was bold and leaned toward her. As he kissed her, he felt as though things had slid into place.
The tingle that traveled through him as well as the heat made it plain that this was where he should be, with Phoebe’s hand clutching to his, palm to palm, as they kissed. It was a simple kiss, with just their lips pressing together, but it was what he had been imagining for so long that it felt like the most tantalizing of things to share with her.
When they parted from one another, he watched her bite her lip, tempting him to kiss her again, but he had taken enough liberties for one night with another man’s wife. He rested his forehead against hers, maintaining the intimacy a little longer.
“I know what you said at dinner last night,” he said quietly, so low that he struggled to hear his own voice above the crackle of the fire nearby, “but it is not so easy just to stop what I feel. I cannot stay away from you.”
Her lips flickered into the smallest of smiles as she made no further objection. He longed to kiss her, but restrained himself, lifting his forehead off hers a little and resting back on his knees. He looked down at their joint hands for a minute, seeing he could maintain the intimacy between them for a short while longer. He lifted her clasped hand and turned it over, until he could place another one of those kisses to the inside of her wrist. She gasped at his touch, prompting him to look at her, seeing the swell of her chest as she took a sharp breath and the coloring of her cheeks.
“You respond as though you have never been kissed before,” he said with a whisper and a smile.
“I haven’t,” she said quietly. There was something of relief to him to hear those words. The Viscount had never kissed her. It made him clasp to her hand with both of his, holding tightly to her. For all the cruelty the Viscount had shown her, at least there was something he had not taken from her, a kiss.
“Do something for me, Phoebe,” he said, keeping his eyes on her. Now he had broken the boundary in using her Christian name, he had no intention of referring to her by her husband’s name, only her own. “No more talk of going back to him. Please? You have said it twice now.”
“Only to protect you all.”
“I know, but I still do not wish to hear it again. Please?”
“I promise,” she said softly as he lifted his hand and kissed it another time, unable to stop kissing her now that he had crossed the boundary. “I should go to bed.” She gestured toward the door.
Francis stood to his feet and stepped back, allowing her to go. She hesitated a step from him before turning back and raising herself on her toes. He held his own breath, wondering what she was doing when he saw her turn her lips to his cheek and kiss him there, briefly.
“It seems you and I are going to struggle to stop doing that now,” he said in a tease, prompting her to laugh as she lowered herself back down to her toes.
“I think you could be right. Good night, Your Grace,” she said with a smile.
“Good night, Phoebe.”
He kept his eyes on her, watching as she walked across the room. She hesitated in the doorway for a second, waving good night to him, before she disappeared and let the door close behind her.
The moment she was gone, Francis ran both of his hands through his hair, in a mixture of frustration in the situation and the thrill of finally having kissed Phoebe. He walked around in a small circle, letting his gaze dance across the different things in the room, the paintings, the books, even the leather-bound atlas that was placed on a table nearby.
He walked toward the atlas and opened it up at a page he had marked long ago. He had added a piece of paper as a bookmark, his cursive handwriting plotting out the trip he was to make when he next travelled. He was to go through Constantinople, then on toward Cairo in Egypt. He had planned it for so long, it had just been a question of delaying it now that he had a responsibility to hide Phoebe.
Josiah’s words came back to him from the day before. You must simply find a wife that will like travel too. Even when Francis had first met Phoebe, she had been thrilled when he talked of Egypt. Since then, they had discussed travel more than once. She loved hearing of where he had been and when he had even mentioned once her possibly travelling herself after she had her separation from the Viscount confirmed, she had been very excited by the idea.
Was it possible that maybe Phoebe could be that woman? The one to accompany Francis on all his trips abroad, and love it as much as he did? It would mean going back on his vow to never marry. Yet Phoebe made him want to break that vow.
“She is not free to marry,” he muttered to himself. He closed the atlas and turned around in the room, when something beyond the window caught his eye. It was sudden, a flash of something that was then gone.
He hurried toward the glass, peering outside, waiting when he saw it again. Something was moving across the lawn, around the house, and it certainly wasn’t an animal.
There is an intruder on the estate.
