A Porcelain Viscountess by Hazel Linwood

Chapter 5

Phoebe waited until her husband reappeared from the smoking room, just as Lady Dodge had advised, before she approached him. She planned to feign a headache to create a reason to be sent home early. The nearer she got to Graham across the room, she found herself glancing back over her shoulder, toward where she had left Lady Dodge with her husband and her brother, Hayward.

Even at this distance, Phoebe could see the lines of Hayward’s face in detail, that expression so readable. Despite his assurance to help her, the nerves were there, coupled with his determination. She wasn’t sure what had made him change his mind to help her, she decided she would ask that another time, when she was far away from her husband. Now, she had to focus on escaping Graham.

She faced forward once more and crossed the room toward Graham, only he wasn’t alone, beside him was her father.

“Ah, Phoebe,” her father said, turning to her without really looking at her face. It was what he had always done, even when she was little. She could remember Christmases where the housekeeper would bring her to see him and he would pat her on the head without looking at her face before dismissing her.

“How are you, Father?” she asked, curtsying to him. Baron Gerard Lewis of Notley was not known for warmth or kindness, something he seemed to show her even more now as he glanced down to her dress and then turned away, in despair.

“I am worse now, what have you done to your gown?” he snapped before flicking his fingers in front of Graham’s face. “Lord Ridlington, look at your wife.”

Graham’s face turned purplish red in anger as he stepped forward, taking Phoebe’s upper arm in his hand. This was bold, even for him in public, as he pinned his fingers around her arm, hurting her again.

“We are in public,” she whispered to him, but he didn’t seem to care. It reminded her of a thought she’d had earlier that evening.

He’s getting worse.

“What kind of exhibition have you made of yourself this evening?” he asked, fuming and hissing with that fury. “You cannot stay here like this. You’ll make a pariah of yourself, and me.”

“And me!” her father said, turning away. “I cannot believe you would do this, Phoebe.”

“It was an accident,” she said feebly, knowing already it was useless as her words fell on deaf ears.

“You must go home, now,” Graham said. Phoebe turned her gaze toward him realizing how easy her task had been made.

“Really?” she asked as he took her arm and began to steer her across the room.

“I cannot have you making a display of yourself like this. Go home, now. Send the carriage back for me later.” As he steered her toward the exit of the room, she managed just once to glance across the guests’ heads, seeing Lady Dodge and the Duke of Hayward staring after her. From the way Hayward’s gaze had narrowed, she rather expected he could see the way in which Graham was holding onto her so tightly.

Once they were in the entrance hall, Graham made arrangements with a servant to have the carriage called round at once, then he sent one last glare her way before he returned into the ball. As he parted, a flicker of a smile appeared in Phoebe’s cheeks.

Could it really be this simple to leave him?

She almost didn’t dare to hope. She had always pictured that if she tried to live him, there would be pain involved and anger.

As the carriage came round, she hurried quickly inside and headed straight home. The entire way she was stuck between two emotions, part of her feared what could happen if Graham came home too early, another part of her was beginning to hold onto that hope. Maybe she really could escape Graham at last.

As she reached the house, she ran through the dark entrance hall and up the stairs, happily scrambling to take them two at a time. She didn’t bother keeping her posture straight, nor did she care when she stumbled and caught the banister. Graham would have no doubt been horrified at the lack of propriety, but soon that wouldn’t be her concern anymore!

When she reached her chamber, she burst in to find Louisa at the opposite side of the room, startled awake from her nap and nearly falling out of her chair in surprise.

“My Lady, is something wrong?” Louisa asked, jumping to her feet. “You’re back so soon!”

“Believe me, Louisa, if everything goes according to plan then the biggest wrong of our lives could be gone for good,” Phoebe said hurriedly as she closed the door behind her and rushed across the room, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You remember my friend, Lady Dodge?”

“I do, she’s a lovely lady,” Louisa confirmed with a nod as Phoebe took her hands.

“Lady Dodge has formed a plan tonight to get us out this house for good, so that I may file for separation from Graham!”

“Could it be possible?” Louisa asked, raising her free hand to cover her mouth.

“It is,” Phoebe nodded eagerly. “They have found a place to hide us.”

“I can scarcely believe it,” Louisa said as her breath hitched, then tears appeared in her eyes.

“Oh, Louisa!” Phoebe threw her arms around her maid, holding her dear. “I pray these are tears of happiness.”

“Of such happiness I cannot tell you,” Louisa laughed through her tears. “After how you helped me, my Lady, I have prayed for a long time I could someday be in a position to help you, but no such day has come. Thank our Lord! I now see He has seen fit to deliver the help you need.” She stepped back, squeezing Phoebe’s hand again.

Phoebe felt the same tears Louisa was suffering swell in her own eyes, mirroring the moment. She knew well what had happened to Louisa all those years ago and was only thankful that she could help when she could. It pained her to know that after the suffering Louisa had already been through, she had to stay in a house with a man like Graham. Now Phoebe was getting them both out of here.

“Perhaps our Lord is a kinder soul than I thought him before,” Phoebe confessed as she pressed the back of one wrist to her eyes to try and stop the tears. “Louisa, we do not have long. Any minute Lady Dodge will arrive in her carriage for us, and we must leave.”

Louisa nodded and abated her tears before standing a little straight, her expression altering as though a sudden thought had occurred.

“But…if we walk out the front door, Lord Ridlington’s loyal staff will see us,” Louisa said slowly.

“I…erm…” Phoebe hadn’t gotten that far.

They’d tell him in a heartbeat! Maybe even send a message for him right away at the ball.

“Lady Dodge’s carriage is to wait at the end of the road for us, so at least they won’t see that,” she said, thinking aloud.

“Then, I have a plan.” Louisa released her hand and hurried toward the cupboard nearby, flinging open the doors and beginning to pull out gowns. “Let us pack lightly. With just a few bags to take with us, I know of a way we could sneak out of the house.”

“How?” Phoebe asked, hurrying to help her friend pack as she stuffed gowns and shoes in a small portmanteau.

“The cook here owes me a favor,” Louisa said with a twinkle in her eyes. “She keeps a keen eye on the kitchen door at all times, she does. I am certain I can persuade her to let us out of the kitchen door, without anyone seeing us. Then we can sneak off down the back alley to find Lady Dodge’s carriage.”

“Louisa, you are a genius,” Phoebe happily praised her maid, to which Louisa affect a curtsy with a laugh.

“I aim to please,” she giggled before hurrying back to the clothes. “Now, we must be quick! The sooner we are out of Lord Ridlington’s house and into that carriage, the happier I will be.”

“As will I,” Phoebe said, pausing in her packing and lifting a hand to the ribbon around her neck momentarily. She smiled briefly, thinking of a life where she wouldn’t have to hide bruises or wear odd garments to cover up scratches and grazes.

Soon, she could have a new life, as long as Graham never found out where she was going.

* * *

Francis couldn’t sit still as the carriage came to a stop at the end of the road, in the exact meeting place Diana had described. They were beside the church tower at the edge of Smithfield Lane within the heart of the city, a short distance away from Lady Ridlington’s house.

“You look the least calm of the lot of us,” Josiah declared from where he sat beside Francis in the carriage. Francis turned his attention on his friend, trying his best to still his leg that couldn’t stop bouncing up and down.

“Can you blame me?” he asked.

“I can blame you for wearing a hole in my carriage floor,” Diana pointed out, gesturing down to his leg. “Desist!” Francis made a point of merely moving his leg harder then. “Francis.”

“It cannot be helped, Diana,” he said with caution. “I am about to hide a viscountess in my house for goodness knows how long, away from not only her husband, but her father who is a baron. You neglected to mention that part.”

“I had a feeling it wouldn’t help persuade you,” Diana said with innocence.

Francis let out a growl of frustration and hung his head forward as he rested his elbows on his knees. Lady Ridlington’s connections only made what the punishment could be if their deception was discovered all the worse. He felt Josiah clap his shoulder in comfort.

“Please tell me you are not regretting your decision, Francis,” Diana said pleadingly, prompting Francis to look up at her again.

“No,” he said, certain of it. Seeing that bruise around Lady Ridlington’s neck and the long-sleeved dress had made up his mind. He would leave no woman to the hands of a beater, least of all one who would march their own wife across an assembly room with their hand clamped firmly around their wife’s arm.

Francis’s jaw had dropped to watch it. He knew most people at the assembly wouldn’t have noticed it, Lord Ridlington had made a point of trying to disguise his action, and other guests were far more concerned with their own merriment. Yet the moment Francis had seen Lady Ridlington marched across the room by her husband, he had looked for the grasp, and he found it. Lord Ridlington was holding so tightly onto his wife that he had crumpled her sleeve and made her wince.

“I wouldn’t leave her to a man like that,” Francis could hear the determination in his voice make it even deeper and darker than before.

“For someone who is usually so humorous and takes life with a pinch of salt, you can sound scary at times, Francis,” Diana pointed out with a giggle.

“Well, that happens when we’re talking about a man hurting his wife. As soon as we’re far away from here, I will be humorous again, once I can be certain Lord Ridlington will never know that I am the one who is hiding his wife,” Francis said, sitting back in the carriage seat again.

“We’ll work hard to ensure that doesn’t happen,” Josiah said with a smile upon his features.

“You’re plotting something,” Francis said with a smile pointing at his friend.

“I was thinking, to make our plan convincing, Diana and I should offer our help to find Lady Ridlington after she goes missing. By offering him our help, he will have no idea that we conspired against him,” Josiah said with a smile.

“Clever man,” Francis said with a slow nod.

“Thank you. I’ll play my part. Ready to do yours, Francis?” Josiah asked.

“As much as I can ever be,” he sighed, looking out of the window. He could peer through the graveyard and out to the road on the other side, but in the moonlight, he could see no one. Lady Ridlington and her maid were not there yet.

* * *

“Wait here, my Lady, for just a minute,” Louisa begged.

Phoebe did as she asked just as Louisa hurried off down the servants’ staircase. Phoebe waited at the very top of the thin spindly staircase in the house with her portmanteau under her arm as she stared down the steps. Elsewhere in the house, she could hear a few servants’ moving around, preparing for their master’s return where he would take up his usual place drinking port in his study. Phoebe knew they had to be gone soon, before Graham could return and find her making an escape.

A minute or so later, Louisa’s face appeared at the bottom of the staircase, urging Phoebe to follow. She lifted the small portmanteau carefully and hurried down, being careful not to make a sound on the steps. When she reached the bottom, Louisa’s smile told her that their plan was working.

“This way,” Louisa urged her to follow. They pushed through a wooden door, into a room banked with worktops on one side and herbs that were hanging from the ceiling and drying on the other. In the center of the room was the cook, currently fanning her face with the bottom panel of her apron.

“If I am discovered for this…” the cook trailed off, shaking her head.

“No one need ever know,” Phoebe said quickly, “but I am eternally grateful for the kindness.” The cook smiled briefly at her.

“I’ll take comfort in you being away from here, my Lady. No one in this world deserves pain like my master has delivered on you. Least of all someone as kind as you.” The cook’s words touched her greatly. Phoebe dropped a quick kiss to the cook’s cheeks, urging another smile to fall from her, before Phoebe followed Louisa toward the door. “Do you know your way?” the cook asked, following them to the door.

“Through the alley and the back of the graveyard,” Louisa said as she hitched her own bag further up her shoulder, to which the cook confirmed with a firm nod.

“God speed!”

Phoebe and Louisa exchanged a smile before they hurried outside. It was a warm night as it was the height of summer, meaning there wasn’t a breadth of breeze or a chill in the air. As the door closed behind them, Phoebe looked back to the rear of the house just once.

“Goodbye, house,” she murmured.

“Not goodbye home, my Lady?” Louisa asked.

“No, it never felt like home,” Phoebe said, holding the portmanteau higher. “Let us be gone.”

Together, she and Louisa hurried through the alleyway that backed onto the graveyard, as they had discussed. Part way through the graveyard, she saw a carriage waiting at the far end of the street, under the steeple church tower.

“They’re here,” Phoebe said excitedly, rushing toward it. She didn’t even have time to knock before the door of the carriage opened and she was greeted with the face of the Duke of Hayward staring back at her.