In the Widow's Bed

“I’d wager Lady Jocelyn has won handily at the archery,” Lizzy mused. “She looks too well satisfied to have not had success.”

“Lady Jocelyn has other interests on her mind right now.” Phoebe turned from the window. “She’s currently trying to encourage both Warminster and Jonathan into offering marriage. Her mother confided this to me last night.”

“That despicable harridan! Last night she had Warminster and Mr. Perkins trailing after her like hungry puppies. How many gentlemen does she need?”

“More than a few, I fear.” Phoebe shrugged. “None of them have proposed marriage yet.”

“Warminster has an empty-headed ninny as a candidate for his wife?” Lizzy threw up her hands. “Oh, of course he does.”

When Lizzy started pacing, Phoebe settled comfortably to watch. In all honesty, Lizzy should not be disconcerted by Lady Jocelyn’s designs for marital bliss. Yet she realized something had changed in Lizzy’s manner. Instead of appearing amused by Lady Jocelyn’s ambitions, she seemed jealous. Just what exactly had happened between her and Warminster?

Lizzy crossed to her wardrobe and threw open the door. “What should I wear this evening?”

With the change in conversation, the afternoon progressed smoothly. Phoebe chatted and helped Lizzy prepare for the evening and then they both retired to her room. While she dressed for the arduous dinner ahead, Phoebe tried to ignore the bumps and thumps from the room beside hers. Jonathan’s loud conversation with his valet pricked her ears, yet with his sister hovering she could

n’t slip into his room to capture even a brief kiss.

Besides, nothing they ever did was brief. Every conversation, touch, and decadent pleasure seemed to soak up hours not minutes of time. In Jonathan’s company the world disappeared, yet tonight she wouldn’t be so lucky.

Once she was as ready as ever, Lizzy captured her arm again to stroll downstairs to the drawing room where everyone would be gathered.

A few steps past Jonathan’s bedchamber door, he joined them. “No disappearing without me tonight. Understood?”

Phoebe wasn’t sure whether the man meant her or his sister, but she nodded her head anyway. She would soak up every second she could until their affair ended. And after that she’d consider what she had done.

~ * ~

Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief as the ladies left the men to their port. After an endless dinner of polite conversation, he wanted to wipe the fraudulent smile off his face. Lady Jocelyn had placed her hand to his arm so often that the couple sitting opposite had begun to cast speculative glances at them. She’d dominated the conversation too, filling in the silence and speaking for him when he’d offered no opinion. That last had annoyed him. She didn’t understand the first thing about his opinions, but he hadn’t liked to embarrass her in front of everybody. He may no longer want her, but he didn’t wish her ill. Besides, she’d possibly end up married to his best friend so they needed to get along.

To his considerable disappointment, Phoebe had been placed too far away for easy conversation. She’d stayed with his sister all afternoon, and while he didn’t begrudge their friendship, he was necessarily forced to stay away. Even though his sister approved of their affair, he hadn’t wanted Phoebe to be discomforted. Besides, he suspected he hadn’t the power to keep his hands under control if he had set foot in her bedchamber?

“A penny for them, Selwood.” Warminster plunked a bottle of brandy on the table between them and sat in the opposite seat.

“Nothing remarkable. I was just considering the shooting expedition tomorrow. Should I take my Brown Bess or my dueling pistols? Both have remarkably light triggers.”

Warminster appeared a little startled by the talk of dueling, but Jonathan let the satisfaction of seeing him squirm deflect some of his irritation. Warminster could have the Clifford chit for his wife while Jonathan had Phoebe in his bed. But Warminster had better leave Lizzy alone. If he caught wind of any more private conversations he would shoot him.

When the port and cigars were consumed and smoked, they rejoined the ladies.

Lady Jocelyn looked set to approach him, she smoothed her gown, set her features with a welcoming smile, but he veered left to join Phoebe and Lizzy on a sofa.

When he was comfortable, Jonathan leaned close to Phoebe’s ear. “Miss me?”

He couldn’t hover, and she didn’t utter a word in reply, but she didn’t hold herself as stiffly as she had. Or perhaps she was just afraid that he’d come to blows with Warminster over port. Either way, the lady cared about him and that made him the happiest man in the room.

Jonathan reclined in his chair and let the women’s conversation flow over him. They were talking about the ladies excursion tomorrow and planning a detour into the village. How well they got on together. They laughed and giggled in the coziest fashion that one tended to find only among the fastest of friendships.

And he thought he might just love her, if this feeling of giddy happiness was any indication. Given their interactions during the day, and last night, he wanted to explore what might grow between them. He wanted to wake beside her for certain, make love whenever they could. If he chose Phoebe for his wife, and not another young lady, Lizzy would be very happy too.

Besides, Phoebe didn’t belong here at Moreton Hall. Warminster had always kept her to the side of the family party, discouraging her from feeling at home here once he’d taken on the burdens of the title. Jonathan had tried hard to control his fury over the shoddy treatment, but was glad when Phoebe had struck up a friendship with his sister and visited their home often. As much as Lizzy had blossomed under Phoebe’s calm presence, that friendship granted him the added bonus of seeing her frequently. They’d become friends, but he hadn’t been lucky enough to get her alone for any length of time.

Not until Warminster had handed him the opportunity he needed on a silver platter.

The tantalizing idea of marriage to Phoebe made him impatient. He had come to this house party with that specific aim in mind. Only his heart had led him to choose a different woman, one more experienced and better suited to his temperament. Thank God for his impulsive heart.

Phoebe glanced at him, her pale gaze quizzical. With a heavy sigh, he forced himself to sit still until the party broke up. And it should have appeared to all that his leaving just happened to coincide with Phoebe and Lizzy’s departure. It wasn’t, of course. Once Lizzy was secure in her bedchamber for the night, he followed Phoebe down the hall. But instead of entering his bedchamber through his door, he slipped through Phoebe’s, too impatient to wait another minute to take her into his arms.

As always, Phoebe welcomed him, drawing him firm against her with as much passion as he. Impatiently he shredded the clothes from her body and his, popping buttons across the floor until they were both naked, both frantic to become one. As they fell to the mattress, Jonathan made a vow that before the night was over he’d tell Phoebe he loved her, and that he wanted so much more than these brief decadent nights.