As he rode along with the sun on his face, his mind would not quieten, his mother’s words ringing in his ears.
“…even if I had known the exact day that he would die at the very moment I fell in love with him, nothing would have changed. I would do it all again, a thousand times, even if I could not alter the ending. The happy memories, the love I had for that man, and the love he had for me, will always be worth every second of grief I have endured without him.”
“That is a foolish way to live, Daniel, and you are no fool,” he murmured to himself, recalling the parting sentiment that had not left him since he raced away from Westyork’s stables.
Glancing at the carriage window out of the corner of his eye, he knew, without doubt, that hewouldbe a fool if he allowed this charade to continue. He could not pretend anymore. He could not let her run off to Scotland, never to be seen by him again. He could not bear the thought of it, much less the reality.
Once they reached Woodholme Manor, he intended toresume their conversation, whether Phoebe wanted to or not. There were too many things that still needed to be said.
* * *
“Lord Westyork, this is a pleasant surprise,” Phoebe’s father said as Daniel escorted the three sisters to the door of Woodholme Manor. “Is there… a reason for your visit?”
Phoebe jumped in before Daniel could speak. “There have been reports of highwaymen on the roads between our residence and Westyork Manor. His Lordship thought it best if he accompanied us, for Joanna’s sake.”
“Joanna?” Her father frowned. Evidently, he had already forgotten that there was any sort of courtship between one of his youngest daughters and the Earl of Westyork.
Phoebe smiled. “Yes, you remember that—”
“My mother instructed me to escort your daughters,” Daniel interrupted, extending his hand to shake that of Brook Wilson. “It was for the benefit of all three. You look well, Lord Woodholme. Have you been well?”
Brook shrugged. “Oh, you know, muddling along as ever. I do enjoy the spring, though, when the weather starts to warm. I cannot abide the winter.”
“My mother is the same,” Daniel said, drawing a curious look from Phoebe.
Why had he interrupted when she was about to tell her father about the courtship? Had she not given Danielenoughpermission to proceed as intended? What more did he want?
Brook gestured to the entrance hall. “Would you like to come in for some tea? You must be weary after all that riding. I used to enjoy riding, but I have not been on a horse in years now. I fear I have forgotten how.”
“One never forgets,” Daniel replied jovially. “Tea would be lovely, Lord Woodholme… but I wondered if I might first borrow a room to speak with the eldest Miss Wilson alone?”
Brook’s brow furrowed. “Phoebe? Whatever for?”
“It is… an urgent matter,” Daniel replied.
Brook looked at his eldest for an explanation, but she had no notion of what was going on either. She gave a slight tilt of her head as if to say, “Do not ask me. I am as in the dark as you are.”
“Well, I do not know if it is appropriate for you to converse alone with my daughter,” Brook said hesitantly. “Although, I cannot be certain.Isit appropriate for you to speak with a gentleman alone, considering your spinsterhood?”
Joanna raised a shy hand. “I shall act as a chaperone. It is not quite the proper thing, but I think I shall suffice in the role.” She smiled. “Indeed, there is something I must discuss with His Lordship anyway, so we shall kill two birds with one stone.”
“Very well, I shall not argue,” Brook said, stepping back to allow everyone to enter the house. “Ellen, I do not suppose you wish to join your sisters, too?”
Ellen shook her head. “I think I will retire to my chambers. I have something of a headache.”
“Oh, dear, I do hope it is not catching.” Brook moved further away from her, before retreating to his study and closing the door behind him, as if to say,“I leave the rest to you, Phoebe.”
And as Ellen ascended the stairs at a lumbering pace, only the three remained in the entrance hall. An awkwardness stretched between them, for Phoebe did not know what Daniel wished to say to her, nor did she know what Joanna wished to say to Daniel. Yet, it was up to her to be welcoming, even if she did not want to be.
“The drawing room will be too cold, and there will be no fire in the grate, for I do not like to waste wood and coal on fireplaces that are not in use. However, the rear parlor has excellent light at this time of day and should be warm enough,” she said with forced brightness. “My Lord, if you would follow me.”
He is “My Lord” again.
The rear parlor blazed golden from the evening sunlight that pierced through the tall windows, heralding sunset. If they had all returned to Westyork Manor, as Daniel had initially wanted, they would have been journeying into the night, but Woodholme Manor was thankfully closer to the White Hart. An inn Phoebe hoped to never see again.
“Shall we have some tea anyway?” Joanna asked, ringing the bell before Phoebe could reply.
Daniel sat down on a worn settee, looking surprisingly comfortable. “Tea would be pleasant, though I should like to begin before it arrives.” He gestured for them to sit as if it was his manor and not Brook’s. “We might have a greater need for it after I am done.”
