Chapter 21

Chapter 21

“It’s all going remarkably well, Phoebe.” George offered her a fond smile. “I’m impressed. When do you think you’ll open your doors?”

“There’s a long way to go before we reach that point. I’ll need staff, horses, ponies, suppliers . . .”

Phoebe poured him a cup of tea from the pot and offered him the milk and sugar lumps, which he used lavishly. He’d been remarkably pleasant since he’d gotten his own way.

“I can help with the equine side of things. Speak to Watkins, my new head groom. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to get rid of a few nags and save me a few pennies.”

“What happened to Benson?” Phoebe asked.

“He retired. He’s happily ensconced on a brand-new cottage on the estate and enjoying every minute of it.”

“I’ll have to pop in and say hello. That man was a saint.” Phoebe knew that she might be prevaricating, but she was desperately trying to think how to phrase her question without it sounding like an accusation.

“Heard from Max at all?” George asked, his tone nonchalant.

“It’s interesting that you asked that,” Phoebe said, glad he’d brought up the subject she’d been dreading.

“Why?” George’s amiable expression disappeared. “What has he done now?”

“What would you think he’s done that would get you into such a flap?” Phoebe asked. “You look quite guilty.” She paused. “It’s almost as if you might have interfered with my marriage.”

George set his cup down, his cheeks flushed. “Now, come on, Phoebe. A man must protect his family.”

“Max is family.”

“I suppose the blighter told you what I said to him.” He sighed. “He didn’t argue with me at the time because I’m fairly certain he knew I was right, and that he was doing what was best for you.”

“I don’t think you and Max should be deciding what’s best for me, do you?”

“You’re missing the point, Phoebe. Max understood what I offered him all too well and decided he didn’t want you facing unnecessary litigation. Did he mention that I offered no objections to him coming to live in England if he agreed to do as I asked? I bet he forgot that part because he has no intention of joining you, which proves my point.”

Phoebe finally joined all the dots. “You promised not to take me to court over the wills if Max agreed I should come back to live in England.”

George snorted. “Apparently, he did forget my concession.”

“You had no right to interfere at all, George.” Phoebe held his defensive gaze.

“I couldn’t see you being happy on a cattle ranch in the middle of nowhere.” He hesitated. “And selfishly, perhaps, I wanted you here.”

“So that I could look after our grandmother? You’ve already dropped several large hints as to my suitability for that position.”

“We all have a duty to our family,” George countered. “I had no choice about inheriting the title and neither will my son.”

“I’ve always done my duty, and you can hardly complain when you inherited three estates, vast lands, and the income to maintain everything to your particularly high standards,” Phoebe pointed out. “We’re all responsible for our grandmother.”

“Eugenie, Arthur, and I have professional careers. You . . .” he made a gesture at the drawing room. “Live off your income and are free to indulge yourself in whatever takes your fancy.”

“I’m trying to do some good in the world with that income.” Phoebe tried not to let her irritation show. “I expect to be extremely busy over the next few years.”

“Too busy for your own grandmother?” George asked.

Phoebe sat back. “As I said, I am more than willing to share that responsibility with you and my siblings. I am not doing it all by myself.”

George set his cup on the tray and rose to his feet “I can see you are going to be as difficult about this as everything else.”

“Yes, I think I am.” Phoebe looked up at him. “Are you going to renege on your promise to Max and take me to court to get this house back?”

George looked at her for a long moment and sighed “No, of course not.”

“Thank you.” She blew him a kiss. “Now about that heir you were talking about. Shouldn’t you be thinking about finding a girlfriend first?”

“Don’t you start.” George turned to the door and Phoebe got up and followed him out.

“You’re an earl with a sizeable bank account, you’re reasonably good looking, and you’re not too weird.” She patted his shoulder. “I’m sure there’s someone out there desperate enough to put up with you.”

He gave her a long-suffering look as he kissed her cheek.

“Good day, Phoebe. Don’t forget to talk to Watkins.”

He drove off in his battered Land Rover and Phoebe went back inside. For the first time in her life, she felt like she’d won a battle and paused to savor the moment. George might be a pompous pain in the arse, but he was still her brother, and, in his heart, he loved her as much as she loved him.

She almost wasn’t surprised when an hour later her grandmother arrived and settled herself in the drawing room with her three beagles. The dowager countess always had George’s back and Phoebe was fairly certain her brother had run straight home and told her everything.

“Good afternoon, Phoebe.”

“Good afternoon, Grandmother. How lovely to see you.” Phoebe smiled. “Would you care for some tea?”

“No thank you.” She gestured to the dogs as she removed her headscarf. “I just stopped in on our walk. I can’t stay long.”

Phoebe took a seat opposite her. Her grandmother was tall like Phoebe and her hair was silvery white and tied back at the nape of her neck. Even though she was walking the dogs, she wore a Chanel tweed jacket over her cashmere sweater and double row of pearls. Riding boots and jodhpurs completed her outfit. She had occasionally been mistaken for the late queen. She ran George and his estate with effortless ease and would probably fight to the death before relinquishing that control when George got married.

“George thinks you have outsmarted him.”

“That makes a pleasant change,” Phoebe said lightly. “Normally he’s far too busy interfering in my affairs to notice what an arse he’s being.”

The dowager sighed. “Can you please be serious for once? I simply wish to know one thing.”

“I’ll do my best.” Phoebe met her grandmother’s fierce gaze with a calmness that surprised her.

“Do you intend to leave this country in the immediate future?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Isn’t having tricked your brother into giving you what you wanted enough for you?”

“I’m not sure, and to be fair he only gave me what was rightfully mine in the first place,” Phoebe said thoughtfully. “I became so fixated on winning that I forgot there is always a price to pay.”

“That’s hardly an answer,” The dowager sniffed. “But I suppose it’s what I should’ve expected from you.”

“May I ask you something?” Phoebe said. “I didn’t realize your health had deteriorated so badly.”

“What?” Her grandmother sat up straight. “Who told you that? I’m hardly in my dotage.”

“It’s quite all right, you can confide in me.” Phoebe tried to look sympathetic. “George said I needed to be here to care for you in your . . . rapidly approaching declining years.”

“Did he now.”

Her grandmother’s lips thinned and there was a militant spark in her eyes that made Phoebe want to smile.

For the first time her grandmother looked directly at her. “I am perfectly healthy and quite able to look after myself for the foreseeable future, dear.”

“That’s a relief,” Phoebe said. “Then you can have no objection to me making my own decisions as to where I plan to live, and whether I stay married to Max.”

The dowager glared at her. “I suppose you think you have bested me, missy.”

“I’d never think that for a moment.” Phoebe rose to her feet. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an appointment with a hot carpenter.”

Her grandmother stood, too, her expression slightly shocked. “George said you had changed.”

“For the better?” Phoebe bent to pat the dogs before walking over to open the door. “I’ve certainly decided I’m no longer going to allow myself to be walked all over. It’s remarkably liberating.”

“That’s what happens when you take up with Americans.” Her grandmother swept past her, dogs at her heels, nose in the air. “Far too independent. Good afternoon, Phoebe.”

“Good afternoon, Grandmother.”

Phoebe went back to the kitchen where she helped herself rather liberally to the cooking sherry because besting her grandmother and George on the same day required celebrating.

* * *

Later that day, her cell buzzed, and she took it out of her pocket to see a text from Jen.

Incoming.

She was still puzzling over what Jen meant as she cleared the tea things and rinsed the teapot, leaving it to drain on the side of the sink. Her doorbell rang and after wiping her hands she went to answer it.

“Hey, Feebs.”

Max stood there grinning at her.

“Why are you . . . here? W-what is happening?” Phoebe stuttered.

He swept her off her feet in a giant hug. “Nice place you’ve got here. Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course.” She stood back and let him into the hall. “How . . . how did you get here?”

“By plane? I got an upgrade to first class at the desk from this awesome flight attendant and let me tell you those lying-flat beds make the trip so much easier.” He looked around approvingly. “I can see why you wanted this house. It’s got your personality all over it.”

She gestured at the kitchen. “Would you like some tea, I mean coffee, or something to eat?”

“Coffee would be great if I want to stay awake for a while.” Max held up his backpack. “Anywhere I can dump this?”

Reason returned to Phoebe along with an intense feeling of gratitude that just maybe she’d been right all along.

“You can put it upstairs in my bedroom if you’d like.”

Max took a breath and met her gaze. “You sure about that?”

She smiled, and the joy flowed out of her and surrounded him. “If you plan on staying at least a night.”

He nodded and slung the bag over his shoulder. “Lead the way.”

“I do have seven other bedrooms you could occupy if you’d prefer.” She went up the stairs ahead of him smiling like a fool.

“I’d prefer to be near you, Feebs, but I’m not going to force you into doing anything you’re not okay with.”

She paused at the bedroom door to stare up at him. He looked remarkably refreshed for a man who had been traveling all night. “I should warn you that I still snore.”

He nodded gravely. “Me too.”

“Then that’s okay then.” She gestured at the large sofa at the foot of her four-poster bed. “You can put your bag on here. If you’d like to unpack and take a shower while I prepare you some food, it’s through there.” She pointed at what had once been the dressing room between the two main bedrooms.

She turned around and he was right there. His arms came around her and she leaned against his chest and sighed like she was coming home.

“I missed you, Feebs.” He kissed the top of her head, his voice rough. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let you go again.”

She cupped his stubbled chin. “We certainly have a lot to talk about, do you—?”

His mouth collided with hers with a pleasing urgency that pushed all other considerations from her mind. She slid her fingers into his hair, knocking off his Stetson and kissed him back with a ferocity that should have startled her. His answering groan was music to her ears as she fought to push off his jacket and unzip his fleece. After several frantic moments when they were both breathing hard, he eased away, his expression intense.

“Last chance to stop me before I get you naked and under me, Feebs.”

She nipped his throat. “Not if I get there first.”

When they were undressed, he picked her up with an ease that still astounded her and tossed her onto the middle of the bed. She sank into the feather mattress and let him climb over her. His knee pressed between her thighs pushing them wide. She didn’t offer any resistance as he cupped her mound, his fingers already seeking out the slick evidence of her desire.

“God, Feebs, sweetheart, darlin’, I’ve missed this so much.” He kissed her in the same rhythm as the drive of his fingers and she came almost immediately. “That’s my girl. That’s what I want.”

She scraped her nails down his back demanding more. He didn’t argue, and with a single, hard thrust, and a twist of his hips he pushed home, filling her completely, making her moan his name. He didn’t mess around, and she didn’t want him to, both fighting each other to the finish, and both winning as they came together in a thunderous burst of pleasure that left Phoebe laughing, crying, and holding onto Max for dear life.

He pressed kisses down her throat and along her shoulder.

“I had this big speech planned out, and one look at you, and all I can think about is ripping your clothes off.”

“You can still give me your speech,” Phoebe said. “But this was important, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Because sometimes words aren’t enough.”

“Especially when it’s us doing the talking,” Max murmured against her skin and rolled onto his back bringing her with him. “Want to try that again just to make sure we’re on the same page? I’ll even let you be on top.”

* * *

Much later, after he’d taken a shower, Max let himself out of Phoebe’s bedroom and made his leisurely way downstairs, pausing to admire what he assumed were family portraits, landscapes, and people on horseback hunting various animals. The fragrant scent of coffee came from the kitchen, and he went toward it, stopping at the door in his bare feet to look at Phoebe. Her skin was flushed, her expression serene and he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Hey.”

Her smile as she saw him struck him hard in the heart and his breath caught. For a second, he wondered what the hell he’d done to deserve to be looked at like that by anyone, let alone Phoebe.

“I made you coffee. I hope it’s acceptable.” A little frown appeared between her brows. “And pancakes, the American kind, but I don’t have maple syrup, so will golden syrup do instead?”

He went past the pine kitchen table, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her neck. She melted against him like butter on a hot pancake and he immediately wanted to put her over his shoulder, march up the stairs, and make love to her all over again.

“It’s all good,” he murmured. “I’ll take anything you’ve got.”

He sat at the table and waited for her to join him. She wore a soft pink shirt over her jeans. Any makeup she’d put on that morning had disappeared in their shared first shower. There was a slight bruise on her throat where his teeth had caught her. He stared at it, astounded that his dick was stirring just thinking about doing it again.

“How are you feeling?” Phoebe asked as she joined him.

She’d gone a little shy and he didn’t blame her. He was feeling the same way himself, which was a first. He just didn’t want to screw this up.

“I’m good. How about you?” He paused to pour himself some coffee from the glass carafe. “Were you surprised to see me?”

“Flabbergasted.” She poured her tea. “Jen did send me a text, but I didn’t understand its meaning until it was too late.”

“What did she say?”

“Just ‘incoming’. Which was correct but perhaps a little cryptic.”

“Jen’s retired military like the rest of us, she probably thought that was enough information for anyone.” Max helped himself to a pancake, a slab of butter, and the syrup which was lighter in color than his usual choice. He took a cautious bite and then another one. “This stuff is awesome!”

“It makes an excellent treacle tart and flapjacks, too.” Phoebe doused her own pancake.

Around the house, what sounded like fifty clocks started chiming the hour. Phoebe didn’t appear to notice, but Max did.

“That’s a lot of clocks.”

“Don’t you like them?”

“I like some clocks and if they all chime at the right time, I’m good with it,” Max said carefully.

“I’ll ask George if he will give me the name of his clock winder at Creighton Hall,” Phoebe said.

“George has a clock winder?”

“Creighton Hall is quite large. If you’re planning on staying, I’ll take you up there to meet my grandmother. This house is on the edge of the park surrounding the estate.”

Max looked at her. “I’d like to stay—but only if it’s okay with you.”

“We do have a lot to talk about,” Phoebe said. “That alone will take some time.”

“I dunno about that, Feebs. I think we’ve already established the important stuff.”

“That we can’t keep our hands off each other?” Phoebe was blushing but her gaze was clear. “There has to be more than that, Max.”

“I guess I was thinking more about myself—that I was miserable without you and kicking myself for trying to be noble rather than digging in my heels and thrashing everything out with you in real time.”

He met her gaze. This was not the time to shy away from the truth, he really had to lay all his cards on the table.

“I didn’t understand what had happened, Max. One moment you were suggesting we had a future together, the next that I should leave early.” She grimaced. “I felt horrible.”

“I’m sorry about that. I was so intent on not letting George tell me what to do, I forgot to have that discussion with you. It was your decision to make, and I should’ve been more honest. I guess I didn’t want to make trouble between you and your family.”

She sighed. “And I thought I’d been too forceful and scared you off.”

“You’ll never do that, Feebs.”

She reached for his hand, her fingers sticky with the syrup. “Why?”

“Why what, sweet pea?”

“Why did you agree to marry me in the first place?”

He held her gaze. “Because I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. You were so damn brave standing there in that casino asking for the impossible.”

“Max . . . that’s ridiculous.” She was blushing now.

“It’s the truth. You’re funny, you’re sweet, you’re sexy as hell, and for some crazy reason you believe in me, and make me want to be a better person.” He took a breath, wanting to get the words right. “And what I’m realizing right now is that I don’t care where I live as long as you’re there because you light up my world and I’m miserable without you.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and he smiled.

“Hey, that’s not how I thought my declaration of undying love would go, but you do you.”

“These are happy tears, Max, but . . .” She hesitated. “I’ve also realized something. All this.” She looked around the kitchen. “Everything I fought for means very little when it’s just me enjoying it.”

He tightened his grip on her hand. “How about we build something special here together, Feebs? Something new for both of us?”

“But wouldn’t you miss your old life at the ranch?”

He paused and reminded himself that he was being honest. “I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

“For me?”

“Yeah, because I love you.”

She swallowed hard. “I don’t want you rushing into things. Will you let me show you around the house, and the stables, and explain what I’d like to do here before we decide whether we’re both all-in on it?”

“Sure, and I’d like to meet your family.” He sat back and forked another pancake onto his plate. “There is one more thing, Feebs.”

“What’s that?”

“Any chance you could tell me you love me back?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” She rushed around the table so fast that her chair tipped back on its legs and knelt by his side, her eyes shining. “I love you more than anything in this world Max Creighton-Smith-Romano. We’ll find a way to make this work even if we have two homes.”

He nodded even as he wanted to grin like a fool. “Good to know Mrs. CSR, I mean Lady CSR. Good to know.”