CHAPTER10
“What, exactly, are your intentions toward Lady Phoebe?” Viola asked as they pulled up to the modest yet stately home on the other side of Oxford Street, near Cavendish Square, within the neighborhood of Marylebone.
“You sound as though you are her father, Vi, or her mother at the very least.”
“I am neither of those things,” she responded hotly, her head held high. “I am afriend.”
“I am aware,” he responded dryly.
“I am not altogether sure why you brought me here today, for that matter,” she continued, pushing her spectacles back up her nose. “Areyounot the one courting her?”
“I am not courting her,” he said patiently. “Not yet, anyway. I am simply calling upon her. And you are here because I would like your opinion of her.”
“I already know her, and would be pleased to share with you what I think of her. She is quite—”
“I would like your opinion of her… countenance toward me.”
“You are not able to ascertain that yourself? Come, Jeffrey, I thought you were more astute than that.”
He took a deep breath as he tried to maintain his patience, then turned to Viola and gave her his full attention.
“Lady Phoebe puzzles me. In one moment, she is contrary and outspoken, and then in the next, she is pleasant and complimentary. I do not know what to think of her.”
Viola narrowed her eyes at him.
“It is not like you to take such interest in a woman, especially one that vexes you so. I like Lady Phoebe, but why do you not find another young woman who would better suit?”
Jeffrey ground his teeth together.
“Will you help me or not?”
“Fine,” she said, sitting up straighter as she looked out the window at the white brick of the townhome, assessing it. “But only because I am altogether interested in why this woman has so caught your attention.”
“I am eternally grateful,” he said sarcastically, then softened somewhat. “You must know, Vi, that you are the only one I would trust with this.”
She rolled her eyes but allowed him to help her out of the carriage. Apparently, his compliment regarding her opinion meant enough to open her up a little bit.
A middle-aged butler let them in and led them into the first room, which Jeffrey assumed was a parlor of sorts, though it didn’t look like a typical London parlor. He studied the interior of the house as they walked. It was small, quaint, and decorated in rich colors. Paintings of far-off lands decorated the crimson walls, while the carpets were certainly not Aubusson — they looked quite exotic, and he wondered where they had come from.
As they entered the parlor, he was taken aback by the large number of curiosities that littered the room — tropical shells, magic lanterns, and paintings that seemed to have been completed with primitive instruments, yet were somehow oddly captivating. Magnifying glasses and a wide variety of timekeeping instruments hung on the walls amongst the more common draperies and English-made furniture. And in the midst of it, the most exotic of everything in the room stood and walked toward them — Lady Phoebe.
Once they found her, Jeffrey’s eyes were arrested upon her, unable to look away, and she blushed under his scrutiny of both herself and the room.
“My father was somewhat of an eccentric,” she said by way of explanation. “This was his drawing room, though if you prefer, we can meet in my mother’s. My father was always much more interested in what lay beyond England, out in the rest of the world. He loved to travel, and when his health failed him, others satisfied his love for the strange with gifts. I have not yet brought myself to put anything away.”
“Nor should you,” came a voice from the door, and Jeffrey turned and took a few quick steps forward to offer an arm to the woman who, while slightly elderly, held a twinkle in her eye that bespoke of the same spirit as her niece. “Your father is to be celebrated, Phoebe, not hidden away.”
“Of course,” Phoebe said with a smile. “Aunt Aurelia, may I introduce you to Lord Berkley. And Lady Viola,” she crossed over and took Viola’s hands within her own in a welcoming gesture. “I am so happy to see you again.”
Viola’s eyes widened as she looked toward Jeffrey and then back at Phoebe.
“Did you know I would be accompanying Jeffrey?”
“Not at all. Though on the brief occasion I have had to converse with Lord Berkley, he has specifically mentioned you, which leads me to believe that you are the sister he would choose to bring with him to call.”
Viola brightened at that, and even gifted Jeffrey with a small smile as Lady Phoebe led her to sit next to her on the coral cushions of the intricately carved rosewood settee. He and Lady Aurelia each took a seat in one of the matching rosewood armchairs across from them.
And now that the four of them were sitting here staring at one another in somewhat awkward silence, Jeffrey wished he had left Viola at home, so that perhaps Phoebe’s aunt and chaperone would not have felt the need to greet them. For he longed for another opportunity to have Lady Phoebe alone, to feel her lips under his once more. He wasn’t sure what had come over him yesterday. Never before had he acted in such a manner with a young woman. It seemed that Lady Phoebe caused him to lose his mind – or, at least, his reservations.