When the Earl Met His Match (Wedded by Scandal 4)

“I missed you, too, Richard, so very much!” She took a steady breath and said, “But my home is in Scotland, and I mean to return immediately.” That pronouncement had silence falling in the room.

Richard frowned, then his expression shuttered. Her brother could be fearsome when needed, especially with the scar on his left cheek. Once she would have felt intimidated by his uncompromising mien, but Phoebe felt different now, as if the pain and uncertainty of the last few months had reshaped her into a different creature and she only now realized it.

Tipping on her toes, she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Then she went over to her mother and dipped into a curtsy. “Hallo, Mother,” she said, surprised that the anger and pain she had expected to feel were silent.

The duchess’s lips tightened. “Do you know how worried we all were, Phoebe?”

She sauntered over to the sofa and sat. “The circumstances called me to leave London with all haste.” She cast a sweeping glance over Richard, Evie, and her mother. “It pains me that I caused you worry, but I had to protect the life of my child.”

A violent flush mounted her mother’s cheek. “You had it, then?”

Phoebe ignored her by leaning over to pour herself a cup of tea. “I got your letter, Richard, and I replied informing you that I am well and explained my circumstances, leaving nothing to the imagination. Why did you send someone to kidnap me from my home? Arrangements must be made immediately for me to return, starting my journey this evening. I promise I shall come for a longer visit when the time is suitable.”

“It is my job to protect you,” he said, his voice low and assessing. Her brother stared at her as if he did not know what to expect. “I was also out of town these few months and only a few days ago received your most recent letter.”

“I see.”

“I would have still instructed the Sparrow to bring you home even if I was in possession of it, though.”

Her gaze collided with Richard’s, and she noted the razor-sharp anger he was trying to contain. His wife reached out and laced their fingers together. Evie smiled and rested her hand on her gently rounded stomach. “Unfortunately, my pregnancy has been hard on me, so Richard took me to the country for fresh air where I could take long walks. You franked your letter as Lady Huxley, and because of that, our staff did not make the connection it came from you, so it was not forwarded to us in Hampshire.” She cast a glance at the duchess. “We understand that you married into the Winthrop family.”

“Yes.”

The duchess sucked in a sharp breath. Phoebe glanced in her direction and cast her a small smile. “Is there something the matter, Mother?”

“You truly acted without thought for this family’s position and married…married a man with dubious parentage, which the entire society is aware of!” The words choked the duchess as if she could not bear to utter them.

“I married the Earl of Albury,” she said with icy civility. “An exceedingly kind and wonderful man who accepted me and my child into his life without reservation. Such a man should only be esteemed.”

“I cannot think how you would talk of such matters without blushing or even having the grace to show mortification!” the duchess said, her eyes flashing her ire.

Phoebe took a delicate sip of her tea. “Mamma, I will not apologize, nor will I hold myself in contempt for actions I took to save my child.”

The duchess huffed. “Who else knows about the truth surrounding…your circumstances?”

“That is not your concern, Mother.”

“Do you believe because you had the temerity to run away, you can speak however you wish and act in any manner?” her mother snapped in a voice mingled with civility and condescension.

“Of course,” she said with a mocking smile. “I am the Countess of Albury, and my husband is the Earl. Why would I need permission from you for anything regarding my family?”

The duchess flushed and spluttered.

“I heard your plans to force me to the country and then take my child and send her to an orphanage. My child is Lady Francesca Winthrop, a grand heiress with legitimacy. I cannot guess as to why you are sitting before me puffed up with any sort of anger as to her existence and the knowledge of my marriage. They hardly have anything to do with you.”

The duchess stared as if she had grown several heads and then sagged back against the cushions of the sofa then cast a glance at Richard as if seeking his support.

Phoebe sent Richard a tight smile. “I would like a carriage prepared—”

“No.”

The flat refusal jolted her as nothing else could. “I beg your pardon?”

She surged to her feet. “Your bounder of a friend kidnapped me from my home! My child…” Her voice cracked. “My child and my husband await my return.”

Her brother’s jaw tightened. “I do not know the manner of man he is, this Winthrop. I dug, and the rumors I found are not favorable. What kind of brother would I be should I allow you to return to Scotland? You only fled there because you felt you could not come to me. But you could have, Phoebe, and by God, I would have protected you against anything. Even our parents. How can I allow you to go back to a man who must have married you for his own nefarious purposes!”

She marched over to him and jabbed her fingers against his chest. “Allow? It must have escaped your notice, but I am no longer a child.”