“Very soon,” Phoebe promised before following Maxwell out of the park, with Jeffrey at her side.
“You should have told me I was interrupting a visit with your friends this morning,” he said as he helped her into the carriage.
“I see them quite often,” she said with a wave of her hand. “They understand.”
They took their places on opposite sides of the carriage, Maxwell on the floor between them.
“What is it?” Phoebe asked, feeling his gaze upon her, looking down at her clothing before reaching up to pat at her hair. Finding most of it now down upon her shoulders, she let out a muffled curse, just loud enough that he could hear. She began to shove pins back into it as she tried to wrest some control of the silky black strands. “I must look a fright,” she added, not able to meet his eyes.
“I apologize if you feel I was staring because of anything amiss,” he said, leaning in slightly toward her. “You are mistaken if that is what you assume. For I was only looking at you because I am, Phoebe, inexplicably attracted to you.”
Her hands drifted down to her lap, her eyes rising to finally meet his. “Oh?” was all she said.
“Oh yes,” he added, leaning even closer. “You captivate me. You know how to find the fun in life, you are forthright, you are striking, and you are honest. I had never thought of settling down anytime soon. Lord knows I have enough to take care of as it is. But when I think of letting you go, that upsets me even more.”
She stared back at him, her face blank and unreadable, unsettling him. With most women, he would have no fear of expressing his emotions, but Phoebe was not a woman who would be easily swayed by title and prestige.
“I—”
Before he could say anything further, however, she closed the remaining space between them and kissed him.
* * *
She hadto make him stop talking. The moment he had told her how much he appreciated her honesty, she knew she could no longer hear any more of his praises. What would he say if he knew the true reason she was here with him? That this entire courtship was based on a charade, due to her desire to discover his motives regarding her newspaper? Thatshewas the publisher of the newspaper of which he so despaired?
So she had taken the only action possible — the one that, was she actually being honest, had been on her mind since the moment he had appeared at her doorstep. She silenced him with her own mouth.
Initially, she had planned for this kiss to be something sweet and chaste, a kiss that could never lead to the same result as last night. But what she continually underestimated was her own attraction to him and the power he so unfortunately held over her.
For when her lips met his, he took that sweet, chaste kiss, and turned it into something that spoke to much more than the kiss of a sweet, budding courtship. No, his kiss was one that solidified the words he spoke to her, that told her that he admired the woman she was and would meet her strength with his own. Oh, why was it so easy to communicate through their actions and yet not through their words?
She groaned as he picked her up and placed her on his lap as though she weighed nothing, which was far from the truth. Unlike her own dismay at her somewhat full figure, however, he was apparently interested in the feel of her body, as his hands ran down over her sides to stroke her hips before cupping her bottom.
As for her breasts, well, he had been quite clear the night before of what he thought of them. Would he do the same today, she wondered, in the middle of his carriage in broad daylight?
Her imaginings, however, would remain that just that. For when his hand came up to fist in her hair — which she had rearranged but moments before — she let out a moan of desire, and Maxwell, apparently, did not like the sound of her in what he must have considered was immediate distress. For soon his huge, shaking body was in front of them, his head inserted into the smallest of spaces between them, breaking them apart. Apparently he wasn’t going to be pleased until they were back in their own seats, far from each other.
Jeffrey let out a curse — certainly not muffled this time — before setting her back down across from him, and she began to rearrange herself once more.
Maxwell sat back down on the floor, thumping his tail enthusiastically against the wood at his success.
“You are supposed to bemydog,” Jeffrey muttered, shaking his head, and Phoebe could only laugh.
“You are a fine protector, Maxwell,” she said, giving him a quick rub under the chin. “I shall never forget your bravery.”
Jeffrey rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but give a bark of laughter himself at her words.
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of Phoebe’s townhouse. She looked up at it through the window, considering what it must look like through the eyes of the marquess. It was certainly nothing of which to be ashamed. It was well built, facing a beautiful square, and was a decently sized home, especially since it was only Phoebe and Aunt Aurelia who lived within it, though at one point in time, of course, her parents had called it home within London.
Yet in comparison to Jeffrey’s own fine, majestic manor, it was fairly nondescript, the white facade so similar to many of the others that lined it on either side. It was the only home she now knew, for the country estate had been entailed, of course. The fact she owned a home, however, was more than most women could say.
“Thank you for the lovely walk,” she said, petting Maxwell’s ears, and Jeffrey raised an eyebrow at her before he helped her down the steps of the carriage.
“I am beginning to think that you had more fun with Maxwell.”
Phoebe laughed. “That is up to you to ascertain,” she said, pausing before the front entrance of her house. “Farewell, Lord Berkley.”
“Jeffrey.”
“Jeffrey,” she repeated. “Farewell, Jeffrey.”
And at his slight bow, she trotted down the stairs, to resume her other life — the one he knew absolutely nothing about.