In the Widow's Bed

Warminster blinked. “Get the hell away from those pair. Do you realize what they’ve gone and done?”

Lizzy glanced down at her fingers, appearing disinterested in Warminster’s violent protest. “Of course. I’m not as foolish as some people I could name. Oh, dash it all. I’ve broken a nail.”

Whatever discomfort Lizzy had experienced yesterday had apparently passed. She seemed more than capable of handling Warminster now. Phoebe had never had a champion before. The novelty was quite singular.

Warminster growled and grasped at her arm. “Come away.”

With a quick blur of movement, Lizzy had Warminster flat on his back, gasping in pain from the hard fall to the timber floor. She stood over him, arms tensed for a fight. “I told you not to touch me again, you scoundrel. I don’t need your hands on me, and I certainly don’t need to listen to the stupidity you sprout. Go and deal with Clifford before she makes it impossible to show her face again. Oh, and just so you know, I’m perfectly happy with this arrangement. Jonathan has loved her forever. You’re blind not to have known.”

Phoebe gasped in shock at Lizzy’s blunt pronouncement of Jonathan’s feelings. He couldn’t love her. She was far too old for that.

Behind her, Jonathan tensed and his hold tightened marginally.

Warminster crawled to his feet, groaning. “Should have remembered you were fond of that trick,” he muttered, hands held out before him to ward off Lizzy should she try again. He glanced at them again, a frown creasing his face. “Told you to watch over her—not seduce her, Selwood.” With a shrug, Warminster ended the discussion, turned on his heel, and stalked from the room.

“Well thank goodness the pretty boy has gone. We have a lot to do today,” Lizzy said. “Jonathan, kindly release Phoebe so we may prepare to go into town. I’m looking forward to escaping Moreton Hall for some fun with my friend. Thank heavens this is the last day to suffer through this gabbling crowd.”

Jonathan’s head dropped to Phoebe’s shoulder. “Nothing kills a man’s passions like the arrival of family. I should get dressed.”

Phoebe glanced up at the disappointment in his tone. Like her, he really did appear to enjoy the physical aspects of their affair. A pity tonight would be the last night of such close and constant loving. She set her hand to his jaw. “Probably for the best. There will be enough babble among the guests to make them wonder at your absence. You’d best go clear the air about last night.”

“I certainly will.” Jonathan dropped his head and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. Warmth, lured by the expectation of further pleasure, bubbled up inside Phoebe, desperate for fulfillment.

Reluctantly, she moved her head away. “Good luck with the hunt.”

His smile deepened then he strode out of her bedchamber without another word.

Unfortunately for Phoebe, she missed him as soon as she couldn’t see him. And given that their early morning tryst had been interrupted, he’d walked away unfulfilled. She’d have to make it up to him tonight. The thought of surprising him brought a smile to her lips.

Lizzy cleared her throat. “Really, I see you love and adore him, but could you possibly wait till I’m gone before you smile like that again,” Lizzy urged. “I might love you, and the idea of you and my brother, but I’d rather have no inkling of what you plan to do with him when you’re alone again.” Lizzy wrinkled her nose and crossed to the wardrobe.

Oh dear. Did Lizzy imagine their affair a grand love match between equals? But the only thing equal would be the depths of their passion. Jonathan quite easily stole her ability to behave as a respectable widow should. However, with yet another person aware of her scandalous liaison with a gentleman ten years her junior, Phoebe couldn’t really claim any respectability.

Jonathan couldn’t love a woman who’d fallen so far from grace as she had this past week, never mind that he’d taken her there himself. At her age, she should have acted with some semblance of intelligence. How foolish to blindly accept a lover into her bed.

Feeling the heavy weight of the world settle on her shoulders, Phoebe dressed. She chose a dark silk, simple, modest and fitting for a woman of her elevated years. Although Lizzy bounded by her side during their shopping expedition, the heavy weight of future scandal depressed her spirits.

“I say Phoebe, are you at all listening to me?”

“Sorry, Lizzy, my mind is elsewhere this morning,” Phoebe murmured as she held up a long length of deep green ribbon against Lizzy’s hair. “How about this one?”

Lizzy shuddered. “No thank you. I believe Warminster has a suit of clothes in that exact same shade.”

“Warminster has more clothes than most ladies,” Phoebe replied briskly. “It’s impossible not to match him in some way.”

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. How is it that you can stand him? The man is so incredibly stupid. I mean, just consider the idiots he invited for this party. I’ve not heard a sensible word from one of them all week.”

“Lizzy,” Phoebe began carefully. Should she set the girl straight about Warminster’s other, secret activities? Lizzy could be incensed to find out that Warminster had hidden his true nature behind that of a fop all her life. But hadn’t this foolishness gone on long enough? Given everything that had happened recently, Phoebe didn’t have a choice. It was simply too dangerous for Lizzy to goad a man so capable of killing her if he was incensed enough and lost his head. “Not everyone behaves honestly at these affairs. Warminster doesn’t believe half the notions he prattles on about. It’s a well staged act.”

“An act?” Lizzy returned the green ribbon to the pile and scowled.

> “Yes, a performance. Like a masquerade or a farce. You’ve been to a play where the characters look one way but act another. You should not always believe what you see at first glance. Especially with Warminster.”

Lizzy’s fingers curled into the pile of ribbons and she methodically straightened them. She didn’t raise her head and didn’t speak so Phoebe continued to browse, thinking Lizzy hadn’t paid attention. Besides, she had to consider her future beyond tomorrow. After Warminster’s guests depart, she should cut all ties to Jonathan and do her best to forget that she’d ever been so indiscreet as to take her stepson’s friend as her lover. Perhaps she should move to another of Warminster’s properties, a distant one to keep temptation at bay. Warminster should like to have her out from under his nose, once and for all.

Yes, that sounded like a grand plan.

But she would also be leaving Lizzy behind. That thought truly saddened her. She had grown used to Lizzy’s friendship, her coltish ways as she moved about. How sad to think that she might never see her again. Or be here to witness her marry someone special. And the young woman deserved happiness with a man that would adore her.