CHAPTER25
Phoebe paced the floor ofThe Women’s Weeklywriting pit, as they had come to call it — the place where the lot of them congregated. She noticed Rhoda and the other writers glancing up at her from their pages time and again, but there wasn’t anything she could say to them. For how could she explain that she had fallen in love with the man who was trying to put an end to their dream? He could destroy not only the publication, but also their very livelihoods and what they held dear – the moral beliefs that she had pushed them all to share, that they risked their very reputations to defend.
The door creaked open — Phoebe made a note to have it fixed so it didn’t make such a noise — and footsteps echoed down the corridor, Julia walked in with a smile on her face. Phoebe had never been so pleased to see her friend. She needed counsel more than anything right now.
“Julia!” she exclaimed, walking toward her and taking her hands in hers. “It iswonderfulto see you.”
Julia beamed. “Such a welcome certainly makes one feel appreciated, Phoebe,” she said, then spoke in a near whisper so no one else would hear her. “Is anything amiss?”
“Everything,” Phoebe said forlornly, and Julia’s eyebrows jumped in surprise.
“That is not exactly what I expect from you, Phoebe,” she said, her voice continuing in its low tone, but Phoebe had enough of her writers’ questioning looks, and she pulled Julia back down the hall and into her office.
“I came to deliver my column in person — I love the idea of being a part of this, with the other writers, but if I am not mistaken, it seems that I am required for something other than my love of racing and my surprising writing skills,” Julia said, gingerly taking a seat in the second office chair, the rickety wooden thing that seemed as though it would break even under Julia’s tiny frame.
“Sit here,” Phoebe said, ushering her instead into her own chair, which, while faded and ugly, did not look as though it were going to fall apart. “I cannot sit anymore myself.”
She continued her pacing, though it was significantly more difficult in her office, which was so much smaller than the larger room down the hall.
“Phoebe, you must tell me what is the matter before you fall over from your exertions, or wear a hole in the floorboards,” Julia demanded, her voice surprisingly strong and fierce, and Phoebe obeyed, stopping to face her.
“I love Jeffrey. And I made love to him.”
Julia sat there, stunned into silence as she stared at Phoebe, who could feel tears beginning to prick the back of her eyes.
“Oh, say something, damnit!”
Julia stood and crossed over to Phoebe. While Julia said nothing, she wrapped her slim arms around her, squeezing so hard that Phoebe could hardly breathe. With her friend providing her the support she so needed, Phoebe finally let the tears begin to fall down her face, and Julia simply held her, letting her feel all she needed to emote.
Finally Phoebe nodded into her shoulder, telling her she was all right, and Julia stepped back, holding up a dainty handkerchief. Phoebe took the offering and wiped her eyes and nose before finally sitting, defeated, in the rickety old chair that, despite its questionable look, faithfully held her up.
Julia sat on the edge of the desk in front of her, a sympathetic look on her face. She placed her hands under Phoebe’s chin and lifted her face.
“I know you are in turmoil right now, Phoebe, but for a moment, celebrate the fact that you are in love! How wonderful does that feel?”
Phoebe smiled ruefully. “That part of it, I suppose, is rather lovely.”
“And,” Julia continued, a wicked look coming into her eye. “Youmusttell me what it was like to make love to a man. I can hardly wait!”
Phoebe laughed at that, though she found that she couldn’t say much about it. What had happened was something to be kept between her and Jeffrey, and it was too difficult to murmur a word of it even to her very closest of friends.
“Honestly, Julia,” she said instead, “There are no words that can accurately describe what it is like to make love to a man for whom you hold such feelings. Not that I would know what it is like to be with a man whom I donotlove, but still… it is nothing like what I could have ever expected, and no one could ever have properly prepared me for such a thing.”
Julia smiled dreamily then, before she was brought back to Phoebe’s plight when Phoebe sniffed into the handkerchief.
“As for your conundrum with Lord Berkley,” Julia said, attending to the matter that she knew was ruining Phoebe’s hopes for happiness, “I can see how you might be in some distress.”
“Oh Julia,” Phoebe began, running her hand over her hair, which was tied back today in a messy chignon, for she had not had the patience this morning to allow her maid much time with it. “My time with him was glorious, and yet my heart was breaking with the realization that it was likely the first and last occasion I would be with him. Was it worth it? Yes. For while I have not been able to use words to express what I feel for him, I was able to show him with our physical love. He proposed to me once more, said all sorts of lovely things to me, but never once did he say that he loved me, so I could hardly say the words first, now could I?”
“Of course you could have!” Julia exclaimed from her perch on the desk. “You are too proud, Phoebe.”
“Perhaps,” Phoebe said with a sigh. “But he keeps speaking about my damn honesty, and here I have been lying to him for weeks now. When it all comes out, he will not believe anything I have said. I meant to tell him all last night, Julia, truly I did, but then things got out of hand, and Aunt Aurelia came in—”
“Aurelia came in? During….” Julia’s shocked expression made Phoebe burst into laughter, and she shook her head vehemently.
“No, thank goodness. Afterward, when I was about to tell him once more of the paper and my role as publisher. Then he left, and now I must make an effort once more. I never exactly responded to his request for marriage, but I suppose he now believes following my actions that I am in agreement.”
“Well, of course,” Julia said, nodding. “A man such as the marquess would not take such liberties with just any woman, nor expect them returned by a young lady. But one who was his betrothed… well, it is more likely.”