Chapter 24

 

Who was this woman? She guessed that he cared for his wife. He didn’t think he had slipped. Perhaps she knew more than she let on. Had Lavins said something? No, he wouldn’t have said a word. Well, there wasn’t much he could do about it anyway. He wouldn’t have his answers until the woman was ready to speak. They rode in silence. At least she moved away from him now that they were alone.

Once in his library, she shut and locked the door. “Would you care for something to drink, Lady Bates?” He didn’t attempt to disguise his irritation.

“A glass of wine would be lovely. And please, call me Olivia, as we are going to become quite close.”

Taylor slammed down the decanter and turned on her. “Who are you and what makes you think we are going to be close? I don’t appreciate you alluding to my wife, nor the fact that I may have some particular feelings,” he yelled at her, finally free to say what was on his mind. Maybe his anger would scare her, and she would run away. He could only hope.

Olivia fell into the chair with laughter. “I had you worried, didn’t I? Were you afraid I would blackmail you into keeping your secret?”

Clearly the woman didn’t scare easy. Perhaps she was daft. Taylor took an angry step forward and Olivia quickly sobered. “Please, Lord Sandlin, hear me out. I do apologize, and know I tend to overdo things a bit. Patrick is always complaining I’m a bit too dramatic at times. I think I would have loved being on the stage.”

“Patrick? Who the hell is Patrick?”

“He is my betrothed, but he won’t arrive from America until shortly before Christmas, so we won’t have to worry about his interference.”

“Betrothed?”

“Perhaps I should explain, but not until you give me the glass of wine you offered earlier.”

Taylor retrieved the crystal and handed it to her, then stood back, arms across his chest and waited.

“Oh, please sit down and quit looking at me like that. I have no intention of blackmailing you. I only have a bit of fun in mind.”

“Lady Bates, I believe you have picked the wrong person for your fun.”

“Oh, no, Lord Sandlin. You are the perfect person. Please.” She gestured to the chair. “Sit down and hear me out.”

Reluctantly Taylor took a seat and waited for her explanation.

“I needed to see for myself if you were the man I thought you to be or the one the ton is gossiping about.”

“The purpose?”

“I needed to know for sure before I made my proposition.”

His eyebrows went up. “And what proposition would that be?”

“To be your mistress until the end of the Season, of course. It is obvious you are looking for one, or so it would appear.”

“I haven’t yet decided on a mistress, Lady Bates, but I’ll surely keep you in mind.” Taylor stood.

“If I waited for you to decide, then I would wait forever, now, wouldn’t I. As would the others who are eagerly awaiting to fill the role.”

She knew he had no intention of taking a mistress, yet she offered herself. What was she about?

“Lord Sandlin, let me start at the beginning, then you will see how I will be perfect for the role.”

Slowly Taylor sat, curious.

“You might be interested to know that I am the younger cousin of Lady Felding. That would be Phoebe’s mother, in case you haven’t caught on.”

The statement caused Taylor to fall into the seat, anxious to hear what else she would say next. It certainly couldn’t be more shocking than what he had just heard.

“Years ago I married Lord Bates. We traveled to America and ended up staying, we liked it so well.” She took a sip of her wine and Taylor waited. “Two years ago he died, but I remained in our adopted country. A short time later I met Patrick Donahue, the man I will marry next year. I will be returning to America to live with my husband, but first I needed to come to London to sell off my properties and close out the estate.”

Taylor finally found his tongue. “Then why would you offer to be my mistress? I am sure Patrick would not appreciate the idea.”

“He would love it.” She dismissed him with a laugh. “On my way here, I stopped to see Victoria.”

“Did you see Phoebe?”

“I thought you didn’t care.” Her left eyebrow arched.

“Obviously you know differently. How is my wife?” He did not appreciating her teasing tone.

Olivia sobered for a bit. “I was only able to visit for a few hours. No, I didn’t see Phoebe. She was napping and didn’t emerge from her room before I left. Victoria confided in me because she is a bit worried because Phoebe seemed somewhat depressed and had stopped playing the pianoforte. I never did find out what that meant.”

“Damn.” He stood again and began to pace in front of the fireplace. Once again he had been reminded how Phoebe was suffering from this. This should be one of the happier times in her life, if not one of the more worrisome, and she was left to deal with it alone.

“I know you need a mistress. You cannot keep turning women down or people will begin to wonder.”

He stopped pacing and looked at her.

“Nobody remembers my connection to Victoria and, being a widow, I have the option of an illicit affair. I detest the ton and their gossiping tongues, but love the theater and the balls, and am in need of an escort.” Straightening, she looked him straight in the eye. “What I am proposing, Lord Sandlin, is that I become your mistress in name only.”

It took a minute for her words to sink in. When they did, he threw back his head and laughed. It was the first time he had felt like laughing since he left Phoebe.

“Should I be insulted at your reaction?” She asked with raised eyebrows.

Taylor relaxed in the chair. “Of course not. This is perfect. At the risk of building your already inflated ego, you are a beautiful woman. Perfect for the role. And now I can stop pretending to look and concentrate on the more important issues.” He paused and looked at her. “Did Lavins know your intent when we were introduced?”

“Did I fail to mention that his wife, Simone, and I were in boarding school together and are the best of friends?”

“My friend confided in you?” This did not set well. Only a handful of people knew what he was about and it needed to stay that way or everything could be ruined and put Phoebe in danger.

“When I called on Noah after arriving in London, Richard was visiting, and everything fell into place.”

 

* * *

 

Phoebe’s buoyant mood deflated as letters from her friends arrived in the following week. Taylor had found a mistress and apparently was staying with her until the very early hours of the morning. They were seen everywhere together at both day and evening functions. They were constantly by each other’s side and shared numerous dances. The name Lady Bates rang a bell but Phoebe couldn’t place her. If the papers were any indication, the woman was a rare beauty and much sought after, with a number of men willing to fill Taylor’s role once he tired of her. As the letters continued for another two weeks and the newspapers arrived, he showed no sign of tiring. If anything, by all appearances, he was in love with the woman.

Something was wrong. Taylor was not supposed to really find a mistress, only act like he was looking for one. What caused this change? Was her marriage in danger? Had Taylor given up? Had he found someone he preferred better? That had always been her fear.

No, she argued with herself. She could not accept that Taylor would turn to another woman. But, what if he had? She hadn’t seen or spoken to him in weeks.

To make matters worse, her mother suggested she no longer leave the house. Her condition could no longer be hidden, even in the loosest fitting clothes. Lady Victoria even remarked she had never seen another woman this large so early. That comment sent Phoebe running to her room in tears. From that day forward, she refused to see even Lord Caruthers.

No letters were received from Taylor in the following weeks and Phoebe decided he was just too busy to be concerned. She kept telling herself that this was only an act, until the murderer was caught. But with each letter from her acquaintances and each newspaper, it was becoming harder and harder to believe. It had been six weeks and he had only bothered to write twice, but he had been able to secure a mistress. She stopped writing to him as well. Though there were pages filled from the letter she had begun weeks earlier, she couldn’t find anything new to say. Nor did she have the desire.

Phoebe wandered from room to room feeling restless. She had never taken kindly to confinement, but this was extremely irritating. Unable to stand it any longer, she sat down at her pianoforte and played.

 

* * *

 

“Finally,” Taylor shouted as he entered his office. Two of his cousins had been spotted in Norwich. It wasn’t overly far and he had every intention on going himself. And the perfect excuse lay on his desk. Lord Blyth was having a house party at his estate in North Walsham, to which he and Lady Bates had been invited. It was beyond the pale to openly take one’s mistress away for the weekend, but he no longer cared what polite society thought of him. He could care less if he was ever invited to another ball in his life. As long as Phoebe remained safe.

Maybe he would be lucky enough to catch up to his cousins in Norwich and not have to continue on to attend the party. Though Taylor didn’t put much stock in luck anymore, it did give him some hope because he really did not want to be away from London, cooling his heels in North Walsham if his cousins weren’t where they were reported to be.

Taylor pulled the foolscap from the top drawer and quickly penned a not to Lord Blyth advising him that he had changed his mind and that he and Lady Bates would be happy to attend the party. He next sent a note to Olivia advising her he would be by to get her in the morning and hoped it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.

 

* * *

 

He wanted to turn right around and go back home. Not only had his cousins not been in Norwich, nobody there recognized the name or the description. These false leads, and weeks away from his wife were taking their toll. And, to make matters worse, this house party was not a normal house party. Had he been thinking clearly, Taylor would have realized that the moment he did get the invitation, but these days, he could only concentrate on his wife and family.

They were escorted into the large parlor, decorated in reds and golds. Seated around the room were married gentlemen of the ton, but the ladies on the laps were not their wives. Why didn’t he remember that Lord Blyth was known for his perverse idea of a good time, as were the gentlemen in attendance? He turned to Olivia, an apology on his lips.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “We will get through this together and out of here as quickly as possible.” She turned back to the group, a bright smile on her face and introduced herself to the ladies.

 

* * *

 

The next week brought letters from women claiming to be her friends and set Phoebe raging. Taylor had gone away to a weekend party with his mistress. It was clear from the letters what type of party it was. It was also very clear that it was common knowledge they had shared a bedchamber for three nights. How could he do this to her? Had he lied about how he felt? Had he only used her because he needed an heir? Had he lied about being forced to marry her? Had he laughed when she had confessed her silly, girlish feelings? What a fool and a child she was. What a child he must have thought she was. She paced the room and spotted the letters she had lovingly written to him. She crumbled and threw them in the waste can.

The only thing that kept her from seeking him out and demanding answers was her child. She didn’t wish to be killed, and she certainly wished for her child’s health. But, just as soon as it was born, she would confront her husband and demand answers. If they were not sufficient, then she would petition the courts. He may have an heir by his thirtieth birthday, but he may not have a wife.

That day Beethoven was added to her Hayden pieces. She had been playing for two hours when the door opened and Noah stalked in.

“Phoebe, I am concerned.”

“I am fine,” she bit out.

“You don’t sound fine,” He gestured to the piano.

Phoebe sighed, stood and walked to the window. “It is just so hard. I try not to read the papers and I wish my so-called friends would not write me about Taylor.”

“It will all work out, I promise,”

“I have my doubts.” She walked to her door and stood there. “I am tired and would like to retire.”