CHAPTER14
After innumerable apologies to a trio of very angry, now somewhat wet, women, Jeffrey snapped his fingers at Maxwell and pointed at the ground by his side. Hanging his head, Maxwell followed his instructions faithfully, and Jeffrey sighed as he couldn’t help but give the dog a pat on the head.
“Poor Maxwell,” said Phoebe with a look of pity toward the dog. “So misunderstood.”
“And misbehaved,” he added, looking over in her direction.
She was something else. She now held her bonnet in her hand, as it had gone flying when she chased after him and Maxwell. Her hair was half down around her shoulders, the rest still restrained within pins on the top of her head. Her forest green eyes seemed to practically sparkle in the sun, and there was quite a becoming flush covering her cheeks from their exertions.
Most women would have left him and his errant dog. Most women would have told him to wrest control of the animal or they would have nothing further to do with him. But Phoebe Winters was not most women. She was forthright in her opinions, that much was for certain. She was outspoken. Self-assured. But more than anything — she was honest. She said what she thought, not holding anything back. She didn’t hide any of her past. She had freely told him that her father had been eccentric, that she herself enjoyed pursuits that most would frown upon. Her parents had instilled in her a love of reading and writing, and an appreciation of continual learning, particularly of other cultures, other people, the world beyond London and its surrounding counties. When she hadn’t wanted to help him in his investigation, as it were, she had simply told him so. And that, he admired.
Jeffrey sighed as she bent over his dog, patting his head as though to soothe him from the harsh words of the ladies he had so disturbed.
Heaven help him. He was falling for her.
“We should go,” he said gruffly and placed a hand at her back, though she suddenly turned around, surprising him.
“Nancy!” she called, seeing her maid in the distance, scrambling to keep up with them. “We must wait,” she told him, tugging his hand off the path, just as another trio was entering.
“Phoebe!” one of the women called, and Phoebe turned, gasping in surprise. “Sarah, Elizabeth, Julia! How wonderful to see you.”
She embraced them warmly, and Jeffrey inclined his head toward them. Maxwell, of course, rushed to make their acquaintance as well. Jeffrey attempted to call him back, but it was of no use. These ladies, however, did not seem to take issue with his dog’s over-exuberance.
“How charming you are,” said the woman with light-brown hair, crouching down to take Maxwell’s head in her hands.
“Lord Berkley,” Phoebe said, remembering him, “May I please introduce my very closest friends, Lady Julia, Lady Elizabeth, and Miss Jones.”
“A pleasure,” he remarked.
“What are you doing here?” Phoebe asked them, and the same woman who spoke before — Miss Jones, he believed she was called — widened her eyes in surprise.
“It’sWednesday,” she said as though that explained everything.
“Oh dear,” Phoebe murmured, worrying her lip. “It is, isn’t it? I’m ever so sorry.” Apparently, Wednesday held some significance.
“It’s all right,” Miss Jones continued. “We understand. You’ve been so busy ever since… ever since….”
It was now Miss Jones who looked flustered, and Jeffrey was impatiently waiting to hear the rest of that sentence.
“Ever since you began to redesign part of your house, you have been incredibly busy,” Lady Elizabeth said in a rush, and Jeffrey turned to look sharply at Phoebe.
“You told me you enjoyed the way your parents had left the home.”
“Yes, I do,” she said, her cheeks reddening. “Of course. I am making no changes to any of the main areas of the house, but rather my … private chambers.” She flushed even deeper, were it possible, and a small smile played around his lips at her shyness in that regard.
Unless… he nearly missed it, but he could have sworn he saw Phoebe send a glare of warning toward her friend. He shook his head. He was reading too much into this conversation.
“What significance does Wednesday hold?” he asked instead.
“Oh, we typically meet for a walk every Wednesday morning,” she responded before turning back to her friends. “Please forgive me. I completely—”
“I believe I am the one to blame here,” he cut in, holding a finger in the air. “Lady Phoebe clearly had prior arrangements when I called upon her, but I’m afraid I convinced her to accompany me by utilizing my dog as bribery. Accept my apologies, ladies.”
They nodded agreeably.
“’Tis understandable,” Miss Jones said. “It would be impossible to resist that face.”
“It was lovely to see the both of you,” Lady Elizabeth said politely. He recognized her from many events, her family being one of the most respected of the nobility, her grandfather the senior partner of Clarke & Co., where many of thetonhoused their riches — or their pennies, as the case may be. “We should continue on. Have a wonderful day, and Phoebe, I hope to see you soon.”