In the Widow's Bed
Relief coursed through Phoebe in a rush and although she tried to loosen Jonathan’s grip on her fingers, he pulled her all the way across the room with him. He dragged over two chairs and they sat to wait for Lizzy’s acknowledgement.
When she didn’t raise her head, Jonathan sat forward. “Shall I challenge him to a duel at dawn?”
“No.”
“Did he frighten you?”
“No.”
Jonathan dragged a hand through his hair. “Ma petit, I want so much to make things right.”
“You cannot.” Lizzy burst into another series of sobs that made Phoebe’s heart ache. “Nothing is right anymore.”
Cautiously, she got to her feet and sat beside the crying woman. When she didn’t object, Phoebe scooted closer. Lizzy pushed her away.
“Do not be angry with Phoebe, little one. She is your friend and you know it.”
Lizzy lifted her head and stared at her brother. “I used to believe so.”
Jonathan winked at his sister. “Of course she is. Phoebe practically ran me down to tell me she couldn’t find you anywhere at Moreton Hall.”
Lizzy’s gaze turned to Phoebe, but landed on her cosmetic covered neck. Her fingers swiped the beige paste away and she held up her fingers for her brother to see. He stared at them then his grim gaze landed on Phoebe. By the tense set of his jaw, she guessed he wanted to set the matter straight with Lizzy, but because of Phoebe’s own rules, she’d constrained him from doing so.
Heart pounding loud in her ears, Phoebe nodded, giving him permission to expose their affair. But she couldn’t stay to hear how Lizzy reacted. She simply couldn’t. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I will return to Moreton Hall where I belong.”
Jonathan turned in his chair and captured her fingers again as she tried to escape the room. “Wait for me in my study. I’ll escort you home myself.”
Phoebe nodded and hurried for the hall.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“You gave Phoebe quite a fright today,” Jonathan remarked as he settled beside his sister on the window seat where Phoebe had just been. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that again.”
Lizzy scowled as she wiped her damp nose. “I cannot believe you’re defending her. I may not have understood completely this morning but I have realized what that mark on her neck means now.”
Jonathan leaned against the window frame. “Really. And that is?”
Lizzy appeared flustered by his question. “Oh, don’t make me say it.”
Amused, Jonathan leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. “Well, if you’re going to make accusations about a woman I hold in the greatest esteem, you’d better choose your words with care.”
A shocked gasp left Lizzy’s throat. “Did you make the mark on her throat?”
“I did.” Jonathan shook his head. “A mistake on my part.”
Beside him, Lizzy’s breath rushed from her lungs loudly. After a long, silent moment, Jonathan turned to see her expression. His sister’s mouth hung open then she snapped it closed, and glanced about her. So far so good. At least she wasn’t shrieking about him seducing her best friend. Jonathan glanced down at the floor while he waited for Lizzy to decide how she’d react to the revelation.
“A mistake? Did you not mean to make love to her?”
Jonathan chuckled. “Oh, I intended and accomplished that. My mistake was losing my head and failing to keep my end of the bargain. I appreciate you sharing your special cream. The lady has a reputation to maintain after all.”
He didn’t mean to sound despondent about that last condition, but he must have conveyed his disappointment too clearly because Lizzy leaned her head against his shoulder. “Those Warminsters are nothing but trouble.”
Jonathan hugged her close. “I like Phoebe very much.”
Lizzy squeezed him tighter. “Do you love her?”
While his head screamed yes, he wouldn’t admit to something that utterly astonished him. He admired Phoebe, desired her so much he longed for her touch this minute. But love? He shook his head. “You mustn’t entertain such fanciful notions.”