In the Widow's Bed

Lizzy scowled until Selwood nudged her. “Don’t make a scene, Lizzy. People are looking this way.”

Reluctantly, Lizzy placed her arm on Warminster’s and allowed him to escort her towards the dining room. The resolve on Warminster’s face puzzled Phoebe. “What was all that about?”

“Complications.” Selwood shrugged. “Shall we go in?”

Phoebe expected Selwood to claim her arm but instead, he simply strolled into the dining room at her side, held out a chair for her, and then settled in his. Throughout the meal, Selwood kept the conversation light and entertaining. It was as if what had occurred between them had happened only in her imagination.

Yet she didn’t imagine the way her body ached from his possession, or the tightening of her inner muscles at the memory of his skilled seduction. By the end of the meal, she couldn’t decide if she wanted him closer or wanted him to go away to stop the ache.

And she grew tired of the come hither looks Lady Jocelyn kept sending him. Really, must the chit be so obvious?

When Warminster signaled, Phoebe rose with the ladies, leaving the men to their port and cigars. But as soon as they reached the hall, Lizzy pulled her away from the others before they reached the drawing room. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

At Warminster’s study door, Lizzy lifted a hand to her hair, dragged out a pin, and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open.

“Wherever did you learn to do that?”

“Oh, somewhere.” Lizzy tossed her hand negligently. “It comes in handy at times.”

Lizzy pushed her inside the chamber and locked the door behind them, planting her back against the wood. “I need your help.”

“My help?” Phoebe squinted into the dark chamber to check that they were truly alone.

“I need to know how you do it.”

Puzzled, Phoebe turned. “Do what?”

“Keep the gentlemen at bay, of course. You’ve been a widow for four years now and not one man has dared attempt to seduce you that I’ve heard. I must have your secret.”

Phoebe choked on a laugh. “My secret is - no one has tried.”

“Really? Not one man?”

Phoebe nodded hurriedly as she realized she was lying. One man had tried and succeeded admirably. Lord Selwood had only to look at her, smile at her in that knowing way of his to turn her resolved to mush. But she wouldn’t tell his sister any of that. She didn’t want to lose her regard.

Lizzy leaned against the door. “Botheration. Well, there’s nothing left to do but return home. I’m sorry to desert you, but the situation I find myself in is simply impossible.”

Concerned, Phoebe moved forward and placed her hand on the younger woman’s arm. “Lizzy what is going on?”

“That mincing fop, Warminster, is trying his hand at matchmaking. He seems to think he can do a better job of it than my brother and spent the whole meal promoting a match between me and that ridiculous Lord Parker.”

“Parker? He’s still attached to his mother.” Lizzy shuddered. “Has Selwood been trying to marry you off too? Hadn’t he given up some time ago?”

“Yes, my brother has, but it appears Warminster has a bee in his bonnet and believes every woman should be shackled in matrimony. I’d listen to his advice if he’d consider the matter himself. As it is, he’s hardly an admirer of the state. What would he know about the benefits of marriage? No intelligent woman would take him on.”

“My thoughts, too.” Phoebe rubbed her arms. “Listen, you are my invited guest, not Warminster’s. I’ll do my best to protect you from his plans.”

“Would you?” Lizzy launched herself into her arms and wept, “Why couldn’t you have been my sister?”

Phoebe rocked the young woman in her arms with a feeling of extreme sadness. She had never felt as welcome with her husband’s children as Lizzy had always made her. Warminster barely tolerated her company, and had removed his three younger siblings from her influence as soon as he’d gained the title. Of course, Phoebe would miss them if they’d been the least bit friendly, but chasing after them would have filled the emptiness of her days.

Yet Lizzy Oliver came to her for advice, for sympathy, and a shoulder to cry on when she needed it. And all of that would end when Lizzy worked out just how foolish she had been.

Someone scratched on the door. Lizzy jumped. But then she squared her shoulders, before offering Phoebe a wan smile. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

Lizzy opened the door and peeked out. “Oh, it’s only you. Thank heavens.”