Authors: Julia Talbot
Lelia no doubt thought she was playing her cards close to her well-shaped chest.
“Needs must when the devil drives. What do you say, Sir Phineas?”
“I say the offer is quite attractive.” He smiled when he said it, and bright flags of color rose in Lelia’s cheeks. “However, it’s best not to rush into these things, even if they are to be strictly business.”
Disappointment flooded her expression. “I see.”
Phineas held up a hand. “Now, do not think I am refusing you outright. I told you, I am intrigued. I propose a counteroffer.”
Her face lit up, and she leaned forward, elbows on her knees. Not a ladylike pose, but fascinating, nonetheless. She was ready to negotiate. “What is your offer, Sir?”
“I suggest an engagement. Not a long one, as we hardly need it, but it will serve to call off your ardent new suitors, as well as your cousin, and give you something of a trial period running two households and so on.” The move would also serve to save Lelia’s reputation somewhat, since overhasty weddings caused wagging tongues.
“An engagement.” She said it slowly, as if testing the idea. “How long?”
“As a trial period, I think three months is quite sufficient.” Phineas watched her face carefully. “We must test several things, after all. Can we rub along in public? Can you, indeed, deal with my servants, who are… well, at best they are a cast of characters.” Phineas ticked items off on his fingers.
“Yes.” She bounced to standing, pacing about. “Yes, we must see if you can deal with a reasonably independent female, if you can allow me to administer my own finances.”
“Precisely.” There, now. He’d already learned what she felt most important. “Or if you can accept that I am the least fashionable of gentlemen who prefers substantial furniture to neo-classical daintiness.”
She stopped, her lips opening on a tiny gasp of laughter. “I apologize for not realizing how uncomfortable you were in my office.”
“Mmm. So.” Phineas stood and advanced upon Lelia.
She took on the aspect of a doe, ready to flee but willing to stand her ground as long as she could. Her green eyes rounded, enormous and glittering.
Phineas held out a hand to shake. “Three months, then. Shall I have them post our engagement?”
“Yes.” She took his hand and shook firmly, the shock of touching her ungloved skin jolting him.
Phineas realized it had been nearly a year since he’d felt the soft skin of a woman’s hand. Reputation or no, he had very few entanglements.
“Very well, Miss August. I vow, I cannot wait to see what happens next.” He released her, then stepped back, oddly eager to get the knowledge of their impending union out among the public.
“Neither can I,” she agreed. “Shall we set a date for our next meeting? Something public?”
“A turn in the park perhaps. Tuesday morning?” He took pride in his driving skills.
“Oh, lovely.” She clapped her hands. “Yes, please.”
“I shall call for you at ten, then.”
Lelia rang for his hat and coat and that was that.
He, Sir Phineas Moore, was engaged.
How very droll.
Lelia tied her bonnet strings, then tilted her head to stare at herself in the mirror hung in the entryway. She scowled at her reflection.
“Drat. You’re supposed to make me look sweet and demure, not like a baby stork,” she murmured.
“Miss?” Her footman, Jack, passed by, a concerned expression on his face.
“Nothing, Jack. I was simply frustrated.” She wanted to be pretty for Phineas, actually, and she simply wasn’t. At best, Lelia knew she was handsome and, at worst, plain.
Her one readily apparent female feature was her bust, and gracious, but it did get in the way. Sir Phineas Moore had seemed rather admiring of her attributes, which she found both surprising and confusing. She had been so careful to do her due diligence, to make certain her chosen marriage partner would require nothing in the marriage bed.
“Why would anyone acquire such a reputation if it was not true?” she said, and was glad Jack was no longer there. “Oh, damnation.”
Lelia plucked at her curls, which never lay gently about her face in a sweet frame. Rather, they resembled more the stiff funerary hair of ancient Egyptian death masks. Hopeless. She turned toward the door, not sure if she should—
The knocker hit the door hard enough to make Lelia jump, and she put a hand to her heart. “Goodness.” Then she reached for the handle.
“Miss!” Jack leaped past her like an overenthusiastic ballet dancer. “You must allow me to answer the door.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” She didn’t apologize, as her cousin had told her to carry on no matter what gaffes she made. She did give him a small smile, however, as thanks for his alacrity.
He opened the door for her, revealing Phineas, dressed for driving, his coat and hat a rich dark brown. “Ah. My dear lady. Are you ready?”
“I only need my pelisse and gloves I’ll only be a moment.” She’d worn a walking dress of plain bronze, and her pelisse was gold and brown, which matched his ensemble quite well. They must have like minds, which restored her confidence in her choice.
“Shall I step in?”
“Please.” Lelia waved him in. They were flouting tradition quite a bit, not having a chaperone, her allowing him inside her home with no one else present save servants. The fact was she had no housekeeper or butler right now, either. Only one cook, two footmen, and her lady’s maid, Ella.
He filled the foyer with his presence, his wide shoulders blocking the light for a moment. He smelled of smoke and the tiniest hint of rain.
“Has it rained?” Lelia asked. She would change her choice of bonnet and jacket if the waterworks were imminent.
“It stopped nearly half an hour ago. I imagine you’re in the clear.” His smile gave her flutters in her belly. Ridiculous. She was a spinster and this was business.
“Ah. Excellent. A good time for a drive, then.”
Phineas nodded gravely. “I have discreetly spread word of our engagement. Are you prepared for the nosy busybodies?”
“It rained,” she intoned. “None of the busybodies will wish to soil their shoes. Come along.” Jack assisted her with her pelisse, and Lelia readjusted her bonnet on her curls just so before drawing on kid gloves.
“Jaunty,” Phineas murmured, his humor obvious.
Lelia smiled. “Begin as you mean to go on.”
“I approve.” Phineas crooked an arm for her, and she placed her fingers at his forearm, walking out into the late spring morning.
The cobblestones only held the lightest slick of moisture, and she had worn sensible half boots, so Lelia didn’t worry about stepping daintily. She did let out a soft shriek of surprise when Phineas lifted her from the walkway into his gig, however. She was not a small woman, and the ease with which he lifted her shocked her.
They were on their way in moments, the sleek horse pulling them along smoothly, his glossy coat shining in the watery sunlight. Lelia felt one could tell a great deal about a man from the way he kept his horses, and this gelding was healthy from nose to tail to hooves.
Sir Phineas handled the reins with utter confidence. He drove like a man born to it, but he’d been a cavalry officer, so she was eager to watch him ride, as well. In fact, the thought sent shivers down her spine. He was ridiculously male and wondrous.
He glanced at her sideways, a smile curving his lips. “Lovely morning for a drive.”
“Quite. So you said you’ve announced our engagement?”
“Naturally.” He flicked the reins and the horse broke into a trot. “We have flouted propriety a goodly bit as it is. I would not take you on an unchaperoned drive without having made it public knowledge.”
“Oh, yes.” Lelia so rarely thought of propriety.
“I have no desire to have your cousin challenge me to a duel, my dear.”
She laughed out loud before clapping a gloved hand over her mouth. “I cannot imagine Eustace challenging anyone to a trial of arms. He is rather a man of letters.”
“Ah. Well, I hope he’s pleased with the match.”
“I do, as well.” Lelia felt a pang knowing she’d not even discussed the matter with Eustace. She glanced about as they entered the park. “Not terribly crowded today.”
“The fashionable hours would be this evening,” Phineas agreed. “I thought we should begin slowly as you’re not accustomed to how things work in Town. This will set enough tongues wagging for today.”
They turned onto the Ring, or the graveled drive used by those who wished to see or be seen. “I suppose so.” That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Her sudden wish that this engagement was real had no bearing on her plans.
It was fluff and nonsense regardless. Phineas intended to follow her plan and she fully intended to allow it.
“I will need permission to speak to your cousin. As your closest family I feel it’s necessary.” Phineas glanced at her again, brows raised.
“Of course. I have no doubt he will be quite pleased.”
“You think so?”
She firmed her chin and nodded. “Eustace trusts my judgment.”
And after this particular bit of nonsense, he might not. Still, she knew she must stay the course.
The horse slowed his brisk trot, and Lelia glanced up, frowning. “Why is that man standing in the carriage track?”
Phineas scowled over. “Whatever are you…dear God.”
She squinted, and realized the man standing there, and getting closer as the horse moved forward, held a pistol in his hand. He raised it just about the time they came into range, and Lelia had only seconds to try to make out his face before he fired.
“Dammit, woman! Get down!” Phineas pushed at her, the horse balking, startled by their attacker.
Lelia ducked, the sound of the flintlock discharging loud and horrifying.
“Stay down in case he has another loaded.” Phineas slapped the reins against the gelding’s back and they broke into a fast trot, speeding past the man who was shooting at them.
She lifted up, peering back to steal another glimpse.
“Damnation!” They careened around a corner when another blast went off, and Phineas wrapped an arm around her just before the world turned upside down.
She gasped, stars lit up behind her eyelids. The impact when they hit the ground shook her, but Sir Phineas took her weight, and he landed much harder, she was certain.
“Does he still advance?” she asked.
“No.” Phineas grunted, pushing off her. “We’ve drawn attention from the gardeners.”
“Thank Heavens for that. Do help me stand. I feel quite…” Hysterical was not a word to describe her—not previously and certainly not currently. “...disheveled.”
“You are lovely,” he said, gallant, and rose before offering her a hand up.
“Nonsense.” Of that she was quite sure. “Who was that scoundrel?”
Phineas scowled. “No notion. He certainly seemed to know what he was about, though.”
“Indeed. Have you many enemies?”
“I doubt this had anything to do with me save us announcing our engagement. You’re the one with the fortune, my dear. Can you walk?”
The horse, she saw, had been caught by a roughly dressed gardener. The gig, however, was smashed beyond repair.
“Oh, dear.” She brought her hand to her lips, the way one destroyed wheel wiggled and spun, making her ill.
“Here now.” Phineas took her in his arms, his solid form supporting her, giving her something to lean upon.
“Forgive me. That was quite the excitement.”
He stared down at her when she tipped her head back to look up at him, and the intensity of his gaze brought heat to her cheeks. “Yes, quite.”
“I saw that ruffian shoot at you, sir!” the gardener said, tugging over their steed. “A carriage for you? I can go out and flag one down.”
“I think that would be best. Something sturdy, if you can find one for hire.”
“Of course, m’Lord. Lady.”
“Thank you.” She straightened, clearing her throat. “Shall we cast about for clues to his identity?”
“Good God, no. What if he’s still about? We make our way out of the park.”
She made a show of protest, but in truth, she couldn’t have been more pleased. Her legs almost refused to hold her, and Lelia simply wanted to be behind a wall or a door, out of the open. She trembled from head to toe and her breath began to come short in her chest.
“Shh.” Phineas patted her hand, which rested on his arm. “All is well.”
“Of course it is.” And she would not dissolve into tears here in the park. Lelia firmed her chin and her mouth. She was no silly girl, shrieking and fainting at every exertion. Indeed, she was as brave as any man.
“Here we are. Good man.”
The gardener had procured them a cab, one with a closed carriage. Thank goodness. “Well, you certainly showed me off,” Lelia told him.
“In that, I was absolutely successful.”
She laughed, surprising herself. “You were. Pray tell me, what is your next move?”
Phineas handed her up into the carriage. “Get you safely home and then look into our miscreant.”
“Yes.” She supposed she should be eager to join Lord Moore in his investigations, but her hands felt torn beneath her gloves and she ached to have a bath drawn for her so she might soak away the soreness.
He settled across from her, smiling faintly, a terrible bruise rising on his cheek. “I am sorry our first outing was ruined.”
“On the contrary, it was most memorable.”
Phineas studied her for a moment, then presented her with a most rakish smile. “It was, truth be told. I can tell that married life will never be dull.”
“I should hope not.” An eternity of dull interactions sounded utterly awful.
“Home for you, then, and I’ll be off.” Phineas’ green eyes gleamed with something akin to mischief.
“Yes. A bath would be most welcome.”
“That does sound pleasant. Far more than what I must do.”
“I imagine so.” She could imagine Phineas in the tub, however, the candlelight making him glow. Lelia swallowed hard. “What exactly do you plan to do first?”
“Well,” his smile turned into a deep chuckle. “I think to begin with, I shall go and procure myself a male lover.”
****
The expression on Lelia’s face when he’d made his pronouncement still had the effect of making Phineas smile some three hours later, when he sat at a dockside tavern, awaiting a meeting arranged by his old military commander.