A Porcelain Viscountess by Hazel Linwood
Chapter 24
When the shot went off, it echoed around the trees, making Phoebe jump away and cover her ears.
“My Lady, something tells me you are not suited for shooting,” Louisa said with a laugh as she reset the pistol.
“I do not like them at all,” Phoebe said with feeling. “I’d much rather return to the fencing.” She turned her eyes back to the house with longing, craving that Francis would be well enough to teach her some more. As it was, though he had managed to rouse himself for dinner the night before, the physician had arrived that morning to warn him against too much exertion, and he was forced to spend most of the day sitting, much to his irritation.
“Has my brother taught you to fence too?” Lady Dodge said from where she was sitting nearby on a low-lying wall that surrounded the section of garden where they were standing.
“He has,” Phoebe said, walking away from Louisa and moving toward her friend to sit beside her on the wall. “He thought it would be good that I have a way to defend myself, and I quite agreed. Though this…” Phoebe paused and gestured to Louisa who was finishing reloading the pistol. “It is something I cannot take to.”
“I can,” Louisa said with a smile as she lifted the pistol another time and aimed at the target, firing. The sound made both Phoebe and Lady Dodge jump, though Louisa jumped for joy when she hit the center of the target.
“I have said it before and I will say it again, I admire you greatly, Louisa,” Lady Dodge said with a chuckle. “I wish I had the strength of character to wield a weapon like that.”
“Do you?” Phoebe asked, looking at her friend with curiosity.
“I imagine a feeling of safety comes with it,” Lady Dodge said smiling before turning her gaze on Phoebe. “I will admit that when your husband came storming into my house, I would have been quite glad to have found a weapon close to hand.”
“I know what you mean,” Phoebe said with a sigh, thinking back to all his rages and every time he had hurt her. She found her fingers tarrying around her neck where he had left his last bruise, that had now completely healed, with not a trace of purplish skin left. “When your brother first gave me a rapier to carry, I felt rather ridiculous. Then after a while, it was as though it had become an extension of me, a way in which to defend myself from the unknown. I’d much rather be doing that than shooting.” There was a difference to her between the weapons. A sword was stopping a blow, but to fire a gunshot could end up being lethal!
“I’ll stick to this,” Louisa said again and reloaded the weapon. “Come now, my Lady. It is your turn.”
“What? Oh no, I do not need to do any more.”
“But you must!” Louisa insisted, proffering the pistol to her. “This is why we’re doing this, to stay protected. You must practice as Hayward says.”
Phoebe sighed and glanced back to the house again. She had a feeling that if Francis were here with her now, she would feel more than happy to say yes, just to feel the way he would place his hands on her shoulders and on her hands as they held the pistol, showing her what to do and whispering close to her ear. Just the memory of it made her smile.
“Yes, you must practice. It is imperative!” Lady Dodge declared and jumped to her feet, taking Phoebe’s arm and dragging her to where Louisa stood.
“You are rather insistent, you know,” Phoebe said with a chuckle. “Rather like your brother.”
“Ha! I have been told that many times,” Lady Dodge said as she urged Phoebe to take Louisa’s place in front of the target.
“Right, my Lady, here we are,” Louisa said, passing her the pistol. “Remember what Hayward said, and shoot.”
Phoebe breathed a few times, trying to stay calm and collect herself. Yet as she lifted her hands, her fingers began to tremble.
“You’re shaking, my Lady,” Louisa said softly from where she stood at Phoebe’s shoulder. Lady Dodge was by Phoebe’s other shoulder and extended a hand to her, touching her arm in reassurance.
“All is well, my friend,” she said in a reassuring whisper.
“I know, it is just…” Phoebe trailed off, aware that the barrel of the gun was shaking more and more in her hands. As she continued to stare at the target, she was thinking why she was doing this: it was so that if it were ever needed, she could protect herself from Graham, but…could she actually ever bring herself to shoot him?
She blinked a few times at the target up ahead. In her mind’s eye, the target morphed, until it was no longer something made of white and black cloth pinned on bound straw, but it was a human instead. It was Graham and he was walking toward her, with that red hair slicked back into a tight ponytail and those eyes flaming with hatred and anger in her direction.
She couldn’t imagine what words he would say, but she could all too easily picture how he would reach out for her. He’d probably go for her neck first, pinning her to one of the trees that were behind them, blocking her in so she couldn’t make her escape, no matter how much she tried to flee him.
Her hands shook around the pistol even more.
“You can do this, my Lady,” Louisa said, encouraging her to take the shot.
“N-no, I cannot,” Phoebe found the words slipping from her mouth. She released the pistol and dropped it to the earth beneath them. Louisa hurried to pick it up as Phoebe felt the prickle of tears.
“My friend, what is it?” Lady Dodge said, taking her hand and locking their fingers together, probably in an attempt to stop the trembling.
“I do not know if I could ever really do it,” Phoebe said breathlessly. Before she was really aware of it happening, the tears had started to leak out of her eyes and trickle down her cheeks. Louisa fished in her pocket for a handkerchief and presented it to her. Phoebe rushed to dry the tears, yet fresh ones followed, making her work futile.
“You mean…shoot your husband?” Lady Dodge said. “Do not think of it in that way! This is only if the worst should ever happen. If you need to protect yourself, that way you can.”
“I know, it is just…” Phoebe trailed off, stammering through her tears. “I do not know if I could do it. Cause anyone that harm.”
“It is not about harm, my Lady. It is about defense,” Louisa said, placing a hand on Phoebe’s shoulder and urging her to look round. “Maybe sometimes life is about being bold, doing things that we never thought ourselves capable of doing.”
“Do you think?” Phoebe asked quietly.
“Oh yes,” Louisa said heartily with a firm nod. “Where would I be now if I hadn’t been bold and taken that risk to run off with you? I could still be back where I used to work with that man breathing down my neck.” She affected a shudder that Phoebe rather suspected was completely real.
“Being bold?” Phoebe repeated the words. “Is that all it is, do you think?”
“I think so. It’s taking a risk. It’s a gamble. But think of what the other option could be?” Louisa said as Phoebe mopped up fresh tears.
She closed her eyes for a second. In that brief second, she could have been back in her chamber with Graham’s hand at her throat and her dress being torn. The terror that ripped through her body at the idea made her eyes shoot open again.
“Would you like another go, my Lady?” Louisa said, proffering the pistol another time.
Phoebe nodded wordlessly and took the pistol. Louisa and Lady Dodge took a step back, giving her the space that she needed to take the shot. This time when she lined the pistol up with the center of the target, she managed to keep the anger at Graham’s grasp around her throat firmly in her mind.
She fired.
She closed her eyes as she made the shot and as the sound echoed around them, she opened them again to see that the bullet landed slightly off the middle of the target, but it was far from the worst shot she had ever made. Lady Dodge and Louisa promptly cheered at the accomplishment she had made as she lowered the pistol another time and mopped up fresh tears.
About being bold. She repeated these words to herself many times that afternoon as they practiced more and more with the weapons. She just had to pray that it would never come to the moment where she had to make a choice of whether to fire or not.
* * *
“See? I am fine. Barely dizzy at all now,” Francis said as he walked around the drawing room. Despite his declaration, Josiah followed him regardless. “God’s wounds, you are looking at me like I am a China doll about to fall over and crack at any second.”
“Do you not remember the physician telling you to be careful?” Josiah said, following him around the piano and Hepplewhite chairs regardless.
“I do, but I am doing so much better. Not dizzy at all, see?” he said, doing a quick circle on the spot. Josiah folded his arms, frowning as he watched him. “In fact…” Francis reached for a bowl of oranges that Mrs Goodman had set out on the coffee table that morning. “I’ll prove it to you.” He took three of the oranges and started to juggle them in the air, tossing one at a time and catching each in turn until they were all in the air, dancing together. “Could I do this if I still needed to be lying in bed?”
“Hmm…well, I suppose not.”
Before they could say anymore between them, the door opened, and Francis flicked his gaze toward it. When Diana stepped through, he was able to maintain the oranges being juggled in the air, yet then Phoebe stepped through, and the sight of her made his breath hitch. He promptly dropped all the oranges on the floor, at which point Josiah started sniggering with laughter.
“What happened in here?” Diana said, pointing at the oranges.
“A demonstration that went wrong, I think,” Josiah said, coming toward her. “Diana, there is something I need to show you.” He reached for her arm.
“Show me? Now? We were about to have tea,” Diana said, gesturing to Phoebe.
Francis had asked Josiah if there was a way that he could orchestrate distracting Diana that afternoon so he could be alone with Phoebe, and it seemed his brother-in-law was taking this promise to heart.
“Tea can wait,” Josiah said, towing her toward the door.
“I’m thirsty, Josiah,” Diana said rather insistently.
“I’ll take you to the river.”
“I am not drinking that water!”
“Diana, there really is something I need to show you.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere but here,” Josiah muttered. Francis couldn’t keep his laughter in anymore. Phoebe looked to him in surprise, just as Diana was finally hurried out of the door.
“This is absurd, what on earth is going on?” she declared.
“We’ll be back soon,” Josiah said with a smile before closing the door behind the two of them. Francis had to work hard to stop his laughter as he heard Diana’s repeated complaints all the way down the corridor whilst Josiah dragged her elsewhere.
“What is going on?” Phoebe said as she turned to him with a smirk of mischief and folded her arms.
“My brother-in-law lacks subtlety today it seems.”
“Hmm, you could say that,” Phoebe said in agreement.
“I wanted to speak to you alone,” he said, reaching for a Bergère settee and beckoning Phoebe to follow him. She didn’t hesitate and hurried to sit down beside him. At first, there was half a cushion space between the two of them, but hating the sight of it, Francis found himself moving closer toward her, and she didn’t move away.
“First, tell me how you are feeling today?” Phoebe said, her face taut with evident worry. Francis grew distracted looking at her features for a minute, thinking of how her green eyes were wide as she stared at him, and the skin around her mouth was tensed. It made his eyes linger on those lips, remembering the liberty he had taken in kissing her before.
“I am doing much better,” he said with a small smile. “My dizziness is completely gone.”
“Almost?” she said, pointing toward the oranges on the floor. Laughing and realizing he had left them where he dropped them, he hurried to his feet and picked the oranges up, placing them back down in the fruit ball.
“I was distracted, that is why I dropped the oranges,” he said, then turned his attention back to her.
“And the pain? In your head?” she said, reaching out a hand toward him. He held his breath as she came near, wanting that touch. Her fingers were delicate as she softly brushed the bruise on his temple.
“Gone,” he assured her. “In a matter of days, the physician says all I will have is a scar to remember the event.” Her lips widened into a smile.
“Thank the Lord,” she said, sighing with relief. “Now, why did you want to get me alone?”
“There is something I wish to tell you,” he said and reached for her hand. She duly gave him her hand, and he marveled for a minute at the delicacy of her fingers in his. He could still clearly remember the dance they had shared at the assembly where they met and how her hand had slotted into place in his. It was a perfect fit.
“You have me on tenterhooks, Francis,” she whispered. The use of his first name made him lift her hand to his face and kiss the back, holding her gaze as he did so. She bit her lip in response, her cheeks blushing all the more.
He had to tell her. Now. It was high time that she knew just how madly he had fallen in love with her. Once she knew too, perhaps she would give up altogether talking of going back to the Viscount? Maybe she would be willing to stay with Francis forever.
I pray to God she will.
“Phoebe, I am unsure how to say this, so I apologize if my words come out a little stuttered. It is just…since you have come here, lots has changed.”
“That is an understatement.”
“I suppose so,” he said with a chuckle. “What I’m trying to say is…” He was about to say the words when he paused, noticing as she wrinkled her nose and looked away from him. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“It’s just…” She paused and sniffed the air. “Do you smell smoke?”