Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

June 1815

Townsend Manor

Phoebe knew herself to be a rather tolerant person in that she found herself to be more accepting of a person's idiosyncrasies than most of the ton were willing to be. She also was not one to nurse a grudge. However, she found that she was still rather piqued when she arrived at Townsend Manor.

Perhaps piqued was not even the right word, for she was still in a dark mood, when a flurry of pale pink muslin nearly crashed into her from the door.

"You have arrived! Oh! I was so worried that you had forgotten about me!"

She found herself being wrapped in a frenzied hug and for a brief moment, she wondered if this was how she was going to die— smothered by muslin and still stewing with a significant amount of resentment towards Miss Thomas.

But Phoebe still wanted to enjoy a great deal of what life had to offer, so she managed a small smile as she gingerly extricated herself from her youngest sister's exuberance.

"Daphne, you are already a young lady," she gently reminded her sister. "Perhaps you should refrain from barreling at those who have just crossed the front door."

She saw a faint, pretty blush adorn the younger girl—no, woman's —cheeks as her sister appeared properly chastised for her behavior. That was soon followed by a more childish pout and Phoebe smiled a little more ruefully at the sight.

Perhaps she is not as grown up as she likes to think herself, she thought as she took off her bonnet and gloves.

"I had thought you had forgotten about me," Daphne repeated, the complaint clear in her voice. "You promised you would be home by four ."

The eldest daughter of the Townsend household nodded slightly. "Of course, I did, but the meeting dragged on for far longer than I would have liked."

It could have ended much sooner, if Miss Thomas kept her tongue in check , she added in her mind.

"Well, no matter!" Daphne declared as she dragged her older sister upstairs to her rooms. "You must help me—I am in a right state wondering what to wear for dinner tomorrow."

"I hardly think the approval of a spinster should accomplish your goals."

"Spinster or not, you have attended three Seasons. Your experience is, at this point, most invaluable, Fi."

Phoebe smiled to herself as Daphne continued to drag her upstairs. Indeed, she had made her bow and attended all of three Seasons, but she did not have much to show for it. As far as the ton were concerned, it had all ended with dismal results for she had no husband to show for herself.

There was one suitor, but the mere thought of him had her glowering once more—something that Daphne managed to catch.

"You do seem like you are in a less than stellar mood today," she remarked softly as they stood just outside the door to her bedchamber. "Perhaps I should not have dragged you so needlessly—"

"Oh, dearest, that is hardly your fault!" Phoebe cried as she hugged her sister. "It is just that…well…" She let out a frustrated sigh. "Miss Thomas brought up the subject of the Baron of Scunthorpe earlier at the meeting…"

Phoebe knew she needed not expound further on the matter when she saw the realization dawning on her younger sister's face.

"Well, that was rather rude of her!" Daphne huffed as she pushed the door open. "And I have heard of this Miss Thomas —she sounds like a dreadful character, really."

"Who is a dreadful character, Daphne dear?" a voice queried.

Phoebe peered inside the room to find the third Townsend sister seated on the couch with a book on her lap. Minerva looked back at her like a curious little owl, her head tilted slightly as she regarded her two sisters from the doorway.

"Miss Thomas!" Daphne bit out. "She just mentioned that…that… unwelcome presence during their meeting!"

Phoebe let out a small smile as her youngest sister expressed an extreme indignation for what she had experienced at the meeting with Miss Thomas.

Sisters are truly a loyal and ferocious bunch .

Well, her sisters, at least, for she knew a great many amongst the ton who turned against their own.

"No!" Minerva breathed out. "She did not! "

Phoebe could tell that her second sister truly had strong feelings on her behalf also, for she had set aside her book as she stood up suddenly.

"The sheer audacity!" Minerva remarked.

"I know, right? It is no wonder that most people I know have shunned her." Daphne let out a delicate shudder. "Even her poor mama has had to contend with her misdeeds for it appears she had made a great number of foes before."

Phoebe looked at her two younger sisters, who appeared to have worked themselves up into a fit of righteous indignation on her behalf. The earlier resentment that she felt towards Miss Thomas and her reminder of the Baron started to dissipate and she smiled a little bit more as she laid a hand on Daphne's shoulder.

"Come now. Let us shelf that matter," she coaxed her. "You have a dinner to attend tomorrow, I believe? Why, we must make sure that you are simply the most radiant creature that Lord Brunswick has ever laid his eyes on!"

Daphne blushed a vivid rosy hue as she cast down her gaze shyly. "You know that nothing is settled yet between us. I just wanted to make a good impression…"

"And you shall, of course!" Minerva declared loyally. "After all, where else can he find such a beautiful and talented young lady in all of London?"

"Stop it, Minerva! You know that is not true!"

Phoebe reached out into the wardrobe and pulled out a dress of pale blue silk shot through with delicate golden embroidery. "This one should bring out the color of your eyes wonderfully, dearest. And it looks so elegant, does it not?"

"Yes, but I think you also look pretty in that pale rose dress from Madame Chagnon," Minerva pointed out with a shrug. "But what do I know about dresses, really?"

Daphne pulled out the dress that her second sister was referring to and held it up in front of her with an appreciative look.

"Actually, it does look charming, Minerva," she agreed. She hurried over to the mirror and smiled. "Your suggestion has merit."

Phoebe watched as her sister shyly ducked her head and mumbled under her breath that she was glad she could help.

"Actually, I think that the blue would be better for another event," she agreed. "It is rather elegant, but it might come off as a little… well, unapproachable."

Minerva nodded. "Perhaps for a ball where you need to shock them all!"

The sisters burst into giggles as they all piled onto the plush sofa, the dresses they had chosen carefully put aside.

"You know, this almost feels like that time when we were children and we went through Mama's wardrobe," Daphne remarked wistfully.

Minerva snorted. "As I recall, Mama was not so pleased with us at that time. We had to go without pudding for a week!"

"No pudding for a week is the absolute worst!"

They happily chatted amongst themselves, indulging in the occasional fit of giggles and lighthearted banter that was the hallmark of their sisterly affection, when Phoebe's eyes landed upon the clock on her sister's mantelpiece. She nearly shot out of her seat when she saw that it was already six in the evening.

"I should go now!" she said, hastily collecting her things.

Daphne sat up with a frown. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Nothing much. I—I just recalled that I have something else to do." She shot her youngest sister an apologetic smile and added, "You will look absolutely beautiful tomorrow, Daph, and Lord Brunswick should feel honored to have you as his guest."

She noted the shy blush that bloomed on her sister's face, but she said nothing of it as she hurried back to her own rooms. As soon as she had closed the door behind her, she casually tossed her satchel onto the sofa and hurried over to the windows that faced Wentworth Park.

At six, he always goes out to make a round around Wentworth Park , she thought to herself. Always. Without fail.

This, Phoebe knew, for she had been observing the Marquess of Wentworth for some time already. At first, she would make notes of it in her journal, but over time, she had come to know his routines by heart.

Around this time, the curtains all over Wentworth Park would be shuttered close nearly in unison. She had earlier noticed that they were so thick that hardly any light passed through them, so much so that it would seem as if the whole house was plunged into darkness simultaneously. It was almost as if its mysterious owner wished to give off the impression that there was no one in the entire residence.

Or maybe, he just does not appreciate the rest of the public minding his business…

Perhaps if he believed he had a neighbor like Miss Thomas, who only thought of him as a rampant murderer, Phoebe could certainly understand why he would not be so inclined to share his activities with the rest of the public.

However, a few minutes had passed and there was still no sign of the Marquess. In addition to that, she noted that several curtains had also remained open, when they should have been shuttered close already.

Now, that is strange , she mused to herself. Where could His Lordship be at this time? He is always punctual.

For many months already, she could count on him to come out for his evening jaunt to the point that she had come to think of it as some sort of tacit secret between them both. For him to deviate from his usual routine felt almost as if he had let her down in some way.

Where could he be? Phoebe thought to herself with a frown. Surely, he is not involved in something nefarious as Miss Thomas claims!

A lot of people deviate from their rituals frequently. Phoebe herself was not a creature of habit, so why should she expect the Marquess of Wentworth to stick to such a rigid routine?

Still, she felt it was rather unsettling to not see his familiar figure garbed all in black heading out to check the perimeters of his estate with a lantern in hand. It was not just disappointment—she truly felt a certain degree of concern for the mysterious Lord and his rather predictable habits.

I wonder what could have held him up , she thought to herself, sighing as she sat at the window seat. She propped her face up with her hand and stared out at Wentworth Park and the windows with their curtains still hanging open.