Over the next few weeks, Phoebe found herself obsessing over the argument with her husband. She thought about that dratted letter from Lillian—which she had since burned in the grate—over and over until it didn’t quite hold the same power over her as it once had. She became desensitized to the words she had read, and it somehow gave her more perspective. It was true that Lillian had written the letter, and as far as she knew, Benjamin had made no effort to contact her.
Of course, she couldn’t speak for the last three weeks that he’d been in London working on that thing. But she could admit now that perhaps she had overreacted a bit. If only he were here so she could tell him that!
Blast him, why wouldn’t he come home? She wasn’t angry anymore . . . just lonely. And empty. And she was going mad.
Every day when the post arrived, she attacked poor Sikes, hoping for a letter, something—anything—from her husband. Or whenever she heard the clip-clop of horses on the drive, she ran like a banshee through the house to the courtyard, praying that it was Benjamin.
But there was nothing. No letter. No Benjamin.
She was trying to be better about assimilating herself into family activities. For the first week Benjamin was gone, she faked illness and stayed abed. But she didn’t care to follow the same route her mother had taken, and besides, it wasn’t as if Benjamin was dead. He was alive, and hopefully well, in London.
London. There was nothing that said she couldn’t go to London and find him, was there?
She looked across the room at Kat, who lounged like Botticelli’s Venus, draped over one end of a chaise, a gothic novel lying open in her lap. Her black hair was only partially pulled up, so most of it fell over her shoulder. She played with a loose lock as she mumbled the words she read to herself.
Phoebe’s gaze moved across the room to Becky, also engrossed in a book, but certainly not a gothic novel by the looks of it. In her newfound free time, Becky had taken to bettering herself, and it seemed that today’s lesson was in frog anatomy.
As grateful as she was for the company of her friends, Phoebe missed her husband more than words could ever express. She needed to find him, and forgive him—and beg his forgiveness as well—and that meant going to London.
She stood from her chair, and both women looked up at her.
“Going somewhere?” Kat asked curiously.
“Yes, actually,” she replied. “I’m going to London.”
“London!” Kat sat up and swung her legs to the floor. “But you can’t go alone. Becky and I will come with you. When do we leave?”
Blast it! She should have known Kat would want to come.
“Kat, it isn’t necessary that you accompany me. Becky and I can manage fine on our own until we find— join Benjamin.”
“No, no, no! The two of you are not leaving me here to while away the hours alone. I’m coming.” Kat’s dark eyes burned with determination.
Phoebe blew out a long breath, knowing she would never win this argument with her sister-in-law. Kat would find a way to go to London with them if it was the last thing she did. At least it would be an entertaining trip.
“Fine,” she said. “We will leave after breakfast tomorrow, so we are sure to make London by nightfall.”
“Excellent!” Kat sprung from the chaise and started for the door. “I’ll send a letter ahead to Benjamin to let him know we’re coming.”
“No!”
Kat halted and turned to stare at her, Becky watched from the other side of the room; both were clearly wondering why they couldn’t send word ahead. Heavens, this was not how she wanted it to be. She wanted to go to Benjamin, find him on her own and . . .
She suppressed a groan. Now it was to be a spectacle, with family. And Lord only knew, despite their state of mourning, what would be on her social calendar by the time they arrived.
No, she couldn’t have it that way. Kat was going to kill her for what she was about to do, but it was the only option. “I will send notice, Kat,” she said with a serene smile. “You go on and tell Sally to start preparing your things.”
Kat shrugged and thankfully didn’t question her further. “All right,” she replied, and then bounced out of the room.
As soon as Kat was a fair enough distance away, Phoebe shut the door to the parlor and practically ran to Becky’s side. She slammed the large tome about amphibious creatures shut and leveled Becky with what she was sure was a wild stare.
Becky blinked back at her. “What are you doing?”
“We are leaving. Now.”
“Now?” Becky practically yelled.
“Shhh!” Phoebe felt like a player in a farce all of a sudden as she flailed her arms about dramatically. But they had to get out of there before Katherine had a chance to realize they were gone. “Becky, please. I need to find Ben—”
“You don’t know where he is?” Becky stared at her; concern turned her shocked expression to a frown.
Phoebe shook her head slowly and tried to keep the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes at bay. “He left me, Becky,” she admitted, feeling her burden lift slightly, but not completely, at finally telling another soul what had happened.
“No,” Becky returned. “How can that be? You said you knew he was leaving for London. You’ve been getting letters from him and . . . Oh, dear. You made it all up, didn’t you?”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone, Becky. Please. Just help me find him so I can sort out this whole, ridiculous mess.”
“All right. But how are we going to get out of here unnoticed?”
As it happened, dinnertime proved to be the best time to sneak out of a house unnoticed. It took a great deal of planning to orchestrate such a feat in such a short amount of time, but they somehow managed. It was easy enough to convince everyone she wasn’t feeling well and wanted to eat in her room. And even easier to bribe a stable groom into preparing a lesser-used coach and driving them to London.
Each armed with a small satchel and the clothes on their back, Phoebe and Becky snuck from the house and met the coach at the end of the drive, where no one would hear the clip-clop of the hooves on the gravel.
Phoebe was positive, however, that as soon as Kat realized they were gone, her rage would be heard all the way to the Capitol.
***
It was the middle of the night by the time Phoebe and Becky made it to Blakeny House. Phoebe had decided to go there since she had no idea where to find her husband and because it was far too late to start her investigation.
It was odd being back in that house. It seemed years rather than mere weeks since she’d slept in her own bed, sat in her own shabby parlor. She didn’t miss it, that was for certain. The smell of mold and dust alone was enough to make her exceedingly grateful for her new station in life. But she was glad it was there, for without it, she would not have been able to come to London to chase after her husband.
After a good night’s sleep, Phoebe was up early, excited for the day. Excited to find Benjamin.
She sent Becky to the market first thing to purchase a few items for their breakfast and then tried her best to dress herself. As she put the finishing touches on her simple coiffure, she heard the latch turn on the front door.
“Becky, is that you? I could use your help with a few of the buttons I couldn’t reach.”
There was no answer, and the hair on the back of Phoebe’s neck stood involuntarily on end. On tentative feet, she left her small chamber and made her way down the hall to the top of the staircase. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was not an intruder, but a friend. Standing in the foyer was not an unwelcome guest per se, but Phoebe wasn’t really in the mood to receive guests, so she hoped Colonel Wallace would be quick about his business there.
***
Benjamin took to the streets again that morning for a long walk. It had become his ritual since returning to London, and he found the exercise helped clear his head and lift his spirits. At least as much as they could be lifted under the circumstances.
He had come to London with the intent to merely get away for a few days. To give himself and Phoebe both some time to think, room to forgive. Every night before he went to bed, he made up his mind to go back to Ravenscroft Castle the next day. And every morning, he awoke with the terror and suspicion that she would never forgive him. That he would only go back to find her with that same disappointed frown on her face. That was something he could not bear.
So now, three weeks to the day after he had left for London, he was still here, trying to figure out what to do about his marriage. What to do about his life.
Other things were more easily taken care of. Like the transfer of the deed to his New York townhouse to an old friend who wished to own property in America. And the final notice of eviction he sent to Lillian.
He wasn’t a mean or cold person, and he didn’t think it would be fair to simply evict her without a bit of explanation. So, he told her briefly of his marriage and of the sale of the townhouse, and that under no circumstances was she ever to try to contact him again. That was a headache he could live without.
It was a lovely day, and despite the early hour, the streets were already beginning to crowd. Benjamin didn’t mind, though. At least in a crowd of people it was easier to pretend he wasn’t so very alone.
His stomach rumbled as he passed through the fresh market and the smell of fresh-baked bread made it to his nose. He was just about to stop and purchase a small loaf to abate his hunger when he saw a familiar head of blond hair bobbing out into the street.
Becky. What was she doing here? Surely she hadn’t come back to London alone. Was it possible that Phoebe had come to find him?
It seemed a bit too much to hope for, and he supposed there were a hundred maids with that same color hair, but . . .
He would never know unless he ran after her.
His hunger and bread forgotten, Benjamin took off in the direction of the maid. Carts and carriages and mongers of all sorts presented obstacles, but it was easy to keep sight of her golden hair. Thank heaven he was tall enough to see over most people’s heads. It wasn’t until they were almost at Berkeley Square that he finally caught up to her. Good God, the girl kept quite a pace.
“Becky!” he called out when he was close enough to be heard.
He waited for her to turn and heaved a sigh of relief when she did. It was indeed she. Thank God!
“Lord Eastleigh!” she cried, a bright smile coming to her face. “How fortuitous to have met you like this.”
He drew closer, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m not sure it was necessarily fortuitous since I had to chase you down from several blocks away, but, indeed, I am very glad I did.” He stared at the smiling girl, afraid to ask the question that hung between them, but he finally dredged up the courage. “Did she come with you?”
Becky’s eyes sparkled in the sunlight, bright emerald green, as she nodded her head. “She came to find you, my lord, but I must say, this is far better than a wild goose chase throughout the city.”
“I do believe I’m the gander, Becky, but I won’t quibble with you over the technicalities. Take me to my wife.”