CHAPTER13
Phoebe attempted to concentrate on the tasks ahead of her the next morning as her maid pulled her hair back to pin it atop her head. She had chosen a lavender muslin gown, which she would wear with her navy cloak overtop. Very practical for the publisher of a newspaper. Which, she reminded herself, was currently her focus. Her only focus.
She stared at herself in the mirror, studying her face. Her lips, far too large. Her eyes, wide and green, not the beautiful blue, like Julia’s, that enticed gentlemen. There was certainly nothing staring back at her that most men would be drawn to. Which led to only one conclusion. She and the marquess had found themselves in a very …improperembrace last evening not because he had wanted anything about her in particular, but simply because they had a clash of wills that became extremely heated, which led to their liaison.
She dropped her head into her hands. Thank God the butler had knocked the door when he had, or she wasn’t sure what would have happened on that blasted uncomfortable settee in the middle of the study. Lord Berkley must think her some kind of harlot for the way she had acted — though he was equally as responsible for their actions, so what did that make him?
“My lady?” her maid asked, bending toward her. “Are you all right?”
“Fine, Nancy, just fine,” she said with a smile, attempting to regain a hold of herself. “I’d best be downstairs for a quick breakfast before I must leave.”
If nothing else, at the very least she had determined that while the marquess was attempting to find her — the publisher ofThe Women’s Weekly— he was getting nowhere if he was asking her — Lady Phoebe Winters — for help. He should have been very aware that she would do nothing to aid him in that regard.
Though it was advantageous to know that, if required, she could provide him with information that would lead him away from her. She would have to think carefully on the best way to redirect him without raising his suspicions.
She contemplatedThe Women’s Weeklyas she went downstairs to her seat at the breakfast table, buttering her toast and pouring her tea. She was actually shocked at just how successful it was after the first two issues. They would be printing more copies of their third installment. It seemed that it had worked to draw in many women with gossip columns — as much as she abhorred them — as well as fashion and advice columns. Whether or not they read her articles on the need for reforms to acts regarding marriage, property, and children, she had no idea, but she hoped they at least read the headlines.
She smiled when she thought of the response they had received so far to Julia’s column. Apparently more women were interested in horse racing than one would think. In fact, they had already received requests for a column on cricket as well. Who would have guessed?
She was still smiling when she opened the front door of her townhouse to leave for the office on Fleet Street and was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the presence at the bottom of her steps until she nearly ran into him.
“Oh, Lord Berkley!” she exclaimed, holding a hand to her chest. “You frightened me. What — what are you doing here?”
“I came to call upon you,” he answered, his face stoic and unmovable.
“It’s rather early,” she said, looking up and down the street, seeing not many had arisen for the day.
“I realize that,” he said, finally showing slight chagrin. “However I — damn it, Phoebe, I needed to see you.”
She raised her eyebrows, shocked at his forthright admission. Color had heightened in his cheeks, and blast it if her own heart didn’t begin a rapid beating in her chest at the thought that he — the Marquess of Berkley — was disquieted by the very presence of her — Phoebe Winters, daughter of an eccentric viscount. It was all rather confusing, if she was honest. For she didn’t want to feel anything but frustration and annoyance toward Lord Berkley. Her turmoil was because of last night. He was the first man she had ever truly kissed — besides the odd peck when she was first coming out — and as for her actions in his study, well, they were truly a first. Oh, what had she been thinking?
Apparently he came to his own conclusions regarding her silence.
“I apologize,” he said straightening, looking into the distance. “I should not have used such language in front of you. And this is all very untoward, I realize. Clearly, you have a prior engagement, from which I should not keep you.”
And in that moment, she could only laugh at the apparent distress she was causing the powerful marquess.
He stared at her in astonishment as the first giggles bubbled out of her throat, and then when it became a full-on chuckle of amusement, finally his lips spread into a smile of abashment.
“While I am unsure what I have done to cause you such mirth, Lady Phoebe, your laugh is contagious.”
Her laughter slowly abated as she realized he must think she was poking fun at him.
“It is not the most ladylike, as I have been told,” she admitted. “But I am not laughingatyou, Lord Berkley. You need not worry about such language in front of me. My father was very vocal in his emotions, to be sure. As for acting in an untoward manner … I thought you knew me better than that by now?”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, and he grinned at her. Oh, Lord, when he smiled, it did something to her stomach. It was as though there were tiny birds fluttering around within it.Take a hold of yourself, Phoebe.She realized she was frowning now, but just then a sharp noise from within his carriage, stationed behind him, captured her attention.
“What was that?” she asked, peering around him. Was there someone else within the carriage? “Did Lady Viola accompany you once more?”
He let out a bark of laughter at her question.
“Ah, no. I did all I could to keep him from coming, truly I did, but the brute hadn’t yet run today, and—”
“My goodness!” Phoebe exclaimed as a very hairy, very shaggy head appeared in the window of the carriage. “You’ve brought Maxwell!”
“I didn’tbringhim,” he emphasized. “He climbed in and he wouldn’t get out. Somehow he seemed to understand we were off to Hyde Park. Or maybe he knew my intention was to see you. I do not know exactly.”
Phoebe could only laugh and shake her head. For a man who seemed so interested in maintaining order, everything in his own life seemed to be completely out of his control.