The Duke's Broken Heart Page 8

  “Courting hit a snag?” Everett said, looking back and forth over papers on his desk.

  The feet hit the ground, and Phin started for the sideboard. “Whisky, Ev?”

  Everett put down his papers and looked up. “No thanks. I plan to get done in another hour or two of work,” he said, his eyes slit.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I have just come from a perfectly lovely afternoon with Charlotte, which was spoiled by the appearance of Bernard.”

  Phin took a drink of his whisky and sat on the edge of a chair. “We left together, naturally, and when we got down the townhouse stairs, he threatened me. If I leave Charlotte alone, he won’t discredit me. Can you believe that?”

  Everett stood, heading for the sideboard. “I’ve changed my mind about that drink.” He poured then came across the other side of the desk, sitting next to Phin.

  “What did you say?”

  Phin made a face at Everett. “You know me, I turned and left.”

  Phin wasn’t sure when he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t leave her alone and give Bernard unfettered access to Charlotte, but now that he knew it, he wasn’t capable of backing down. It wasn’t a race or a rivalry that made him want to beat Bernard for Charlotte’s affection, it was Charlotte. He wanted her, and he couldn’t stop wanting her because of a threat. The only thing Phin could do was hope the threat didn’t cause him to lose her.

  Phin took a long pull on his whisky. “I have a theory. He may be in need of that dowry. It’s certainly a sum worth fighting for. If Charlotte were to choose me, he would be out of a lot of money.”

  “I’ll send for the private investigator.”

  Phin nodded. “There are two things about Bernard that bother me. One, that dowry, but two, I’ve never seen him look at her with even the least shine in his eyes. He wants to marry her, but he doesn’t have any affection for her.”

  “Phin, you know that’s true of most ton marriages. He could be doing what everyone else in the ton does. The private investigator will help.

  “What I’m not sure about is what he could have to use to threaten you. You appear to be a pretty boring guy, to me at least.”

  “Thanks, Everett,” Phin said dryly. “The only thing scandalous about me is that I was disowned and left the country. The ton would love to chew on that for a while.”

  “Who knows that?” Everett asked.

  “Whoever Bennett told, that’s who. If this gets out, I’m going to have to sit Silas and Mercy down and tell them the whole sordid story.”

  “The secret’s been held five years and gets out a week after you come home. Go figure.”

  “Get a footman in here. Let’s summon the Snoop.”

  ***

  The new play Phin had wanted to see was much more satisfying than the first play he had seen with Charlotte. Much, much more satisfying.

  Phin had gone to Charlotte’s townhouse to pick up her and Aunt Genevieve. He alighted from the carriage and moved towards the stairs when he looked up. She wore a theatre dress. Charlotte wore a dress that didn’t need freedom in the legs and feet in order to dance. She must have visited her modiste after the first play.

  It was sapphire blue with shimmering gray threads running through it. But Phin hardly gave the fabric a second thought. It was fitted below her waist. It flared out to a full skirt around the widest area of her hips. This was the first time he’d seen any hint of a woman’s body below the waist. Her figure was gorgeous.

  The footman cleared his throat, and Phin shook his head almost imperceptibly. Ogling her on the open street, he thought. What must she think of me?

  “Good evening ladies,” Phin said as he bounded up the stairs. He offered an arm to each of them, and they walked down to the carriage. He guided Aunt Genevieve in and turned to Charlotte. He mouthed, ‘You look fantastic,’ then took her hand and guided her in.

  Charlotte beamed. Phin was sure she knew her dress was a big success.

  While hearing the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves hitting the stone roads, Phin said, “I’m a little reluctant to bring you ladies into the theatre.”

  Charlotte gasped. “Why?”

  Phin grinned. “Because you both look so beautiful; we could be overrun by men looking to push me out of your way.”

  “Don’t worry, Your Grace,” Aunt Genevieve said. “If I see them coming, I’ll kick them in the shin. Hard.” She sat back and laughed.

  Phin and Charlotte laughed too.

  “I am already having a lovely evening,” Phin said with all sincerity. As much as he cared for the play, he could have driven around in the carriage all night.

  They entered the theatre to droves of others, champagne in hand, milling and murmuring. Phin passed a flute to Aunt Genevieve and Charlotte. He was immediately approached.

  “Collins. Glad you’re here.” Lord Westborough slapped Phin on the back. “You promised we’d talk of the tax proposal before the House of Lords.”

  “And we will. First, Lady Charlotte and Lady Genevieve, may I present a colleague of mine in the House of Lords, Lord Westborough.

  The curtsies and bows finished, Lord Westborough spoke up, “Ladies, may I steal him for five minutes?”

  The ladies laughed and nodded.

  The Lord guided Phin to an alcove.

  “My God, Collins. She’s gorgeous. Now, let me tell you of my concern . . .

  Fifteen minutes later, the two men emerged from the alcove smiling. Phin’s smile disappeared when he saw Bernard with Charlotte. He turned to Lord Westborough, “I’m off to rejoin my party; we’ll talk soon.”

  Marlborough nodded, and Phin started weaving through the crowd. He wanted to kill that man. No, that was silly; you couldn’t kill a man for talking to the most beautiful woman in the room. Phin wanted to hit his head against a stone wall for leaving her alone.

  “Hello, everyone. I’m back. Sorry for leaving you so long. Bernard,” they bowed silently.

  “That’s quite alright, Your Grace, the business of the country is nothing to delay,” Charlotte said.

  She understood the demands of the House of Lords. Phin smiled.

  “You leave a beautiful woman in the middle of a crowded room, and she could be someone else’s before too long.”

  Charlotte looked at Aunt Genevieve, who was looking back at Charlotte. It seemed as though they were holding their breaths.

  Then the xylophone rang out, and the ladies relaxed. They said goodbye to Bernard and headed for Phin’s box.

  “Bernard was right; I should have never left you ladies alone. That was bad form. I apologize.”

  “Nonsense. You had business to attend to, and there was a room full of people I hope to get to know eventually. If I can pride myself on anything, it’s my ability to meet the challenge of a room full of people,” Charlotte said, sincerely.

  “That is not a challenge I will ever meet. But thank you,” Phin said, giving Charlotte his best smile. “And you may or may not want to know, but it was a very productive meeting.”

  They walked down the hall, and Phin opened the curtains to his box. He found Mercy, Josie, and Everett there. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Phin said.

  “Ladies. You remember my sister, Lady Mercy, my best friend, Lord Everett Warren, Earl of Norfolk, and his sister Lady Josie.”

  They all said hello and gathered around one another, mostly to admire Charlotte’s dress.

  “Everett,” Phin said, pointing his chin to the back of the box.

  “I just met with Marlborough. You were right. He’s leaning towards a ‘no’ on tax reform. I explained what I was looking for, and his eyes lit up. He needed an out to say ‘no,’ and now he has one.” Phin slapped him on the back. “Good job.”

  “Ah, never celebrate before the vote is in.”

  “Yes, you’re right.”

  “Stunning again,” Everett murmured.

  “I emerged from Westborough to find Bernard circling her.” Phin’s eyes were on her.

 
“Who can blame him?” Everett shrugged and walked back to the group.

  During the play, a play Phin found enjoyable, he watched Merritt‘s box. No one was in it except Bernard. Liar. If he had plans to go to the play, there would have been people in that box with him.

  Phin looked ahead to see Charlotte. She was leaning over towards Mercy, clutching her forearm. Mercy was leaning towards Charlotte.

  His heart squeezed at the thought of Charlotte and Mercy as sisters. He loved Mercy and wanted nothing but happiness for her. To be close to him and his wife would be so special.

  During intermission, Phin was in a circle of his favourite people, Everett, Charlotte, and Mercy included. Charlotte was telling an amusing story about the first time she tried on her dress at the modiste’s. She tugged here, and she tugged there but couldn’t figure out how to wear the dress. That’s right, she couldn’t figure out how to wear a dress. The modiste, in a much-moderated tone, told her to take her hands off the dress. Of course, this produced the expected laughter from the group.

  It was a cute story, and she was good at telling it. Phin shook his head. How did he end up having such a strong attraction to her?

  Then in an instant, it was all ruined. Bernard walked up and stood next to Charlotte, horning is way in with no concern to who was standing beside her. It was as if the circle had been doused with a waterfall of ice water.

  The conversations were forced and prickly. The person having the most difficulty with straddling the two factions in one circle was Charlotte.

  She looked uncomfortable. He would stand too close to her, and she would step to the side. He opened topics of conversation meant for only the two of them. Every time she answered a question of his, she looked around the circle, explained what they were talking about, and then answered him.

  Everett tried to choose topics that would engage everyone present, but Bernard would brush aside anything said by the others and speak again only to Charlotte. Mercy excused herself and asked Charlotte for her help. The two left, arm in arm, to another part of the lobby.

  Bernard excused himself and went to join another group.

  ***

  After another afternoon call to Charlotte that featured Bernard in all his hostility, Phin was looking forward to an evening at a private event. No doubt, there would be a gentleman there that would try his patience, but at least it wouldn’t be Bernard.

  As daring as Charlotte’s dress was last evening while attending the theatre, her dress this evening fit the mood of the British Museum. Of a traditional evening style, her dark blue wool dress with taupe velvet trimmings was perfection.

  Her style was spot on. Aunt Genevieve looked lovely in deep purple and gray. Phin was amused at how excited she was for this outing.

  Phin showed his special invitation at the door and ushered the ladies in. He could hear the clatter of voices down the hall and stiffened for a moment. Yes, he could make small talk, and yes, he was just as interesting as the next boring gentleman, but it still made him pause.

  When they walked into the reception area, Aunt Genevieve gasped. He turned to see her face tilted up to the ceiling, then her eyes moving at the speed of light to every museum piece in the room. Phin lightly put his hand on her sleeve. “Lady Genevieve, may I get you champagne?”

  Phin looked at Charlotte. She was holding three fingers to her mouth to keep from laughing. He motioned to ask her if she wanted a drink, and she nodded.

  When he strode off, a lovely older gentleman joined the ladies. Charlotte curtsied and said, “Good evening.” Aunt Genevieve was trying to peak behind him to see what he was blocking.

  Charlotte placed her hand on her aunt’s sleeve and said, “Aunt Genevieve, let me introduce you to this gentleman.”

  He turned to Aunt Genevieve and bowed. “John Beasley, Duke of Portsmouth.”

  Smiling at him, she said, “Lady Genevieve Albert, Viscountess of Truro and my niece, Lady Charlotte Albert. It is a pleasure to meet you in this revered building.”

  Phin came back with drinks, handed them to the ladies and turned. A smile lit his face. “Beasley, how good it is to see you. It has been much too long."

  “Phin, my boy, they told me to just look for the man with the deep tan, but I had no idea. You look . . .”

  “Tanned.”

  “Yes, yes, you do. This is a lovely event. I take the private tour every year. Don’t duck out and miss it.

  “These two lovely ladies would shoot me dead if I were to do that.”

  “Ah, Ladies, are you looking forward to your tour?”

  Aunt Genevieve finally settled her eyes on Beasley. “Your Grace, this is by far the most exciting outing we have been on since entering London.”

  “You know, Lady Genevieve, His Grace is an expert at almost everything exhibited in the museum,” Phin said. “Maybe you can persuade him to impart his knowledge of these pieces on us?”

  Charlotte looked up at him, “Oh, would you? My aunt wants this experience to be unequalled. But didn’t you say you take the tour every year?”

  Beasley laughed. “I did. I take it to see which blowhard peer of mine will botch the retelling of these magnificent stories.”

  “Beasley, they must see you coming and groan.”

  “I’ll tell you a secret. I go to the ‘guide’ who has given me grief over the past year. It’s called payback.”

  “Oh, Your Grace. Remind me not to get on your bad side, “Charlotte said, laughing.

  “My dear, that is not possible. With you and your aunt, I have no bad side.”

  Phin rolled his eyes and hustled them into the next room where the ceremony was about to start. It wasn’t so bad, as ceremonies went. And the food was brought to small tables with seating for four.

  Beasley sat with them and spent most of the meal attempting to charm Aunt Genevieve. Phin shook his head, thinking he didn’t have a prayer of pulling it off, but he was surprised at how much she melted as the meal went on. Charlotte looked at Phin questioningly. She didn’t get it either.

  Dessert was delivered, and Beasley announced that they needed a plan if they were going to see everything they wanted. Unfortunately, they didn’t have time to view everything.

  Aunt Genevieve spoke up, “Do we have time to see the entire Charles Towneley collection?”

  “Yes, we do. But that leaves out almost everything else.”

  Phin and Beasley turned to Charlotte. “There is only one thing I must see, and Aunt Genevieve can have the rest of the evening. The Rosetta Stone.”

  Beasley clapped his hands. “Perfect. We’ll go see the Rosetta Stone first then spend the rest of our time in the Towneley wing.”

  All rose from their chairs. Beasley offered his arm to Genevieve, and Phin offered his arm to Charlotte.

  The evening was perfect. Since Aunt Genevieve’s attention was on art, Phin and Charlotte could hang back. It felt almost like having an outing alone. Almost.

  At different stops along the museum route, Beasley would stop them and give background information about the piece. Aunt Genevieve was enraptured. Phin and Charlotte were ten feet away whispering in each other’s ear.

  “Your aunt is funny. I’ve never seen her behave like this. And I think Beasley has taken a shine to her,” he whispered. “He’s a widower, you know.”

  “Yes, I recall him mentioning being a widower a couple, no three, no four, no five times. I’ve never seen my aunt like this, either. I’m so happy you could do this for us. If she could pry her eyes off the museum pieces and off Beasley, she’d look this way and thank you for herself,” Charlotte said.

  Phin gave a low laugh. “She looks far too occupied to thank me anytime soon. I’m so happy she’s enjoying this,” he whispered. He’d like to think of more times it would be appropriate for them to whisper. It felt so intimate.

  Aunt Genevieve turned and beckoned Phin and Charlotte with her arm. “Come here. John is going to explain the Discobolus head. Hurry.”

  Phin got one more chan
ce to whisper in her ear, “John?”

  Charlotte’s eyes went large. For some reason, that part of the sentence breezed right by her.

  In the carriage on the way home, Phin thanked the ladies for a lovely evening. He had a wonderful time.

  Charlotte opened her mouth to respond but never got the chance because Genevieve got in first.

  “Your Grace, I must thank you for this evening. It has truly uplifted me. I’m not sure there is anything in London that could top it.”