Phoebe returned to the drawing room where the audience was beginning to rise from their seats for intermission. She sought out Becky, who immediately widened her bright green eyes at her.
“What is it?” Phoebe asked. Was it that obvious she had just been kissed?
Her cheeks turned warm at the thought. Goodness, she was unnerved by that man! The memory of his hands around her waist, his lips caressing hers so tenderly . . .
“Miss, are you all right?” Becky asked, bringing Phoebe from her scandalous thoughts.
“I’m fine,” she replied, feeling somewhat panicky inside. “Why? Do I not look fine?”
“You look flushed, is all. Should we step outside for a moment?”
Phoebe did want to step outside—fresh air would have done her a world of good. But then Lord Glastonbury, Benjamin, came through the door and sauntered into the drawing room. He spared only a fleeting glance for her before making his way across the room to his sister. She watched him, his every move, studied the way he walked and spoke and laughed with the Duchess of Weston.
While Benjamin was a paragon of aristocratic breeding, his sister was the epitome of grace and beauty—everything one would expect from a hostess of the ton. With her raven hair pulled into an intricate plait and her perfectly fitted scarlet gown, Phoebe wondered if she could ever match up. How must Benjamin see her? What must he think of her re-made gowns and paste jewels? Surely, she paled in comparison to the women he was accustomed to.
“Would you like some lemonade?”
Phoebe turned to her maid, aware she had not answered her in regard to stepping outside. “Oh, yes, I suppose a bit of refreshment would be nice.” The only problem was that Benjamin stood right next to the table where said refreshment could be retrieved.
This posed a great many questions. How should she act? Should she greet him or pretend they didn’t know one another? Perhaps she should just send Becky alone to avoid him all together. But Becky had already stepped out and was on her way to the table. If she called her name or pulled her back now, she would draw attention to herself, and she certainly didn’t want to do that.
So she stepped out in Becky’s wake and followed her to the refreshment table.
***
Benjamin couldn’t quite explain the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat. Or the beads of perspiration that broke out on his brow despite the cool breeze flowing through the drawing room. But he was surprised to learn, when he turned around, that they were a result of the close proximity of Miss Blake. Phoebe.
Was it possible he had sensed her before he even knew she was there? He sniffed the air and realized he could smell her faint perfume. It could have been the smell of the garden that lay just beyond the drawing room windows, but either way, it smelled like her.
He didn’t dare catch her eye, though, and he moved himself in front of his sister so she wouldn’t see Phoebe there behind him. They could meet another time. A time when he hadn’t just been kissing and fondling the girl in private.
Good Lord, he was uncomfortable!
“Oh, Benjamin, look! It’s Lady Sharpe and her lovely daughter Abigail!”
Benjamin followed his sister’s gaze to the two women who approached from the opposite direction. He groaned, wishing he could avoid his sister’s matchmaking attempts, but there was no way out now.
“Lady Sharpe, I’m sure you remember my brother,” Kat said with a covert smile for the woman.
“Oh, indeed, Your Grace!” Lady Sharpe dipped into a curtsey that should have been difficult for a woman of her advanced years. “You are not easily forgotten, Lord Glastonbury. Though, I do not think you have met my youngest.” She pushed her daughter forward and practically forced the poor girl into a curtsey. “My lord, this is Abigail.”
Sensing Abigail was as embarrassed by her mother’s gregariousness as he was, he smiled warmly at her, took her hand and kissed the air above her knuckles.
“Oh, look! There is Mrs. Harcourt,” Kat announced. “I’ve been meaning to speak with her about our committee. If you will excuse me?”
Damn his sister. How could she leave him alone with this woman? Fairly easily, it would seem, for he had not even finished the thought before she was gone from their circle.
“Our Abigail has just embarked on her first season, my lord,” said Lady Sharpe. Then she leaned in to whisper, “And she has suitors practically banging down the door. Of course, it’s not any wonder, is it?”
Benjamin shifted his eyes to look at Abigail. The poor girl seemed mortified, and he didn’t blame her. Her mother was just as shameless as his sister was, and Ben knew all too well the embarrassment that came with having such a family member.
“It is a very fortunate thing to be so well-sought-after,” he offered with a cordial nod.
“Yes, but it is a pity none are truly suitable matches for our little girl.”
“Suitable?”
She leaned in closer, her beady eyes narrowed. “What I mean, my lord, is that none can offer our Abigail the . . . finer things in life, to which she is accustomed.”
Oh, good Lord! It was probably true Abigail had a fair amount of suitors at her door. She had a quiet demeanor and a large dowry, if his sister were to be believed. Though it was clear her mother hoped for her daughter to marry not just any peer, but one who still maintained a substantial amount of fortune and power.
While he wished all the best for Abigail, Benjamin pitied the man who ended up with Lady Sharpe for a mother-in-law.
“Ah, I see,” he said, and, then, desperate to make a quick escape, added with an optimistic smile, “Well, never fear, Lady Sharpe. I’m sure the right one will come along soon.”
With that, he bowed to the women and turned to go, noting as he did, that Phoebe had already gone.