Page 40 of The Rogue’s Countess

“I said I want to marry you.” The moment he repeated his answer to their dilemma, she stared at him for several seconds. The quiet voice inside him urging her to say yes astonished him. Brown eyes wide and filled with confusion, her mouth moved as if trying to speak. In the next breath, anger swept her bewilderment away, and she shook her head vehemently.

“No, my lord. I have no intention of enduring the hell of my first marriage a second time.”

“I’d advise you not to compare me to Helstone, Phoebe,” he said with quiet anger. The inference that he was no different than her late husband was an insult even worse than being labeled Lord Chelmbee.

“Or what?” she snapped in a defiant manner that increased his ire. “You’ll destroy my reputation? I think I managed to do that all by myself a few moments ago.”

There was a note of self-disgust in her voice that doused his anger in an instant. Stunned by her statement, he stared at her in disbelief. Did she really think she was to blame for what had just happened? Gideon shook her gently again and scowled with exasperation.

“What in God’s name makes—”

She didn’t let him finish as the palms of her hands suddenly hit his chest in a savage blow, and she shoved him away from her to break free of his grasp. Blindsided by the strength and ferocity of her hands slamming into his chest, Gideon stumbled back a few steps. Before he could stop her, Phoebe raced toward the door once more. His slow recovery gave her just enough time to reach the study door, tug it open, and make her escape. Gideon raced after her, but by the time he reached the main hall, she was already halfway up the stairs.

“Fuck.”

The harsh word echoed softly in the entryway, and he viciously shoved his hand through his hair. Christ almighty, what the hell had he been thinking to make love to Phoebe in his study. At least in her room or his, the door could have been locked to prevent discovery. With a violent snort of rage, he lambasted himself for being such a fool.

The memory of Phoebe’s response immediately after they’d both been satiated slammed into him. That she’d believed he’d intentionally seduced her angered him. Not with Phoebe but with himself. Making love to Phoebe hadn’t even entered his mind when he’d asked her to meet with him. The only thing he’d intended to do was apologize for his accusation and ask her to stay, at least until his mother was on her feet again.

Staring at the couch, he grimly recalled the look on Polly’s face the moment the maid had seen him and Phoebe in a compromising position. Compromising? It had been a hell of a lot more than that. The maid had been shocked and embarrassed, but Phoebe had experienced something far more devastating. His actions had caused her to be stripped of her dignity. He could only imagine the agony she was certain to feel the next time she came face-to-face with Polly. Even if the maid acted as if nothing had ever happened, Phoebe would continue to relive her humiliation every time she encountered the maid.

“Christ Jesus, you’re a sorry fuck, Chelmsford,” he muttered as he began to pace the study floor.

Despite his self-castigation, he knew he needed to formulate a plan for dealing with the mess he’d made, and quickly. He couldn’t risk Polly being indiscreet. The maid had been with his mother for years, and while he believed the woman would remain silent, he couldn’t allow her to remain in the same house as Phoebe.

He could always find the woman another position, but there was the risk of her possibly speaking out of turn with a new employer. That would ensure a scandal, which would further humiliate Phoebe. That he refused to let happen. No, he would set the maid up in a home of her own along with an annual stipend, provided she never told another soul what she’d witnessed tonight.

One problem solved, he began to strategize how to convince Phoebe to marry him. Marriage was something he’d resisted for a long time due to Edith’s betrayal. The thought of such an encumbrance had always made him walk in the opposite direction the instant one of his lovers even hinted at the word. Phoebe was an altogether different matter.

Gideon could easily see a marriage between them as one that would be infinitely satisfying. Phoebe was intelligent, caring, had no difficulty putting him in his place, and they were good together in bed. He grimaced at the last point. They’d yet to enjoy each other in a bed, but he was certain it would be as pleasurable, if not more so, than their previous experiences.

The only real question was how to convince her to accept his proposal. The vehement manner in which she’d rejected the idea of being his wife made it clear her marriage to the viscount had been a terrible existence. While a marriage between the two of them wouldn’t even remotely resemble her union with Helstone, Gideon didn’t know how to convince her of that.

Phoebe would have the freedom to do as she wished as his wife. He paused his thinking for a brief second before resuming his thoughts. Naturally, the freedom she enjoyed would need to have certain boundaries. The last thing he wanted was to be cuckold by his wife, any more than he would allow himself to humiliate Phoebe by taking a mistress. She’d endured enough degradation and pain at Helstone’s hands. From this point forward, he would take care never to cause her any further humiliation.

While a servant finding them in a compromising situation had been a somewhat uncomfortable sensation for him, the incident had been a withering experience for Phoebe. The look of humiliation on her face the moment they were discovered was an image that would remain with him for the rest of his life.

The memory of the color completely drained from her face, her features frozen in shock and horror made him utter another violent curse. Her reaction to Polly finding them in a compromising situation had been bad enough. But it had been nothing compared to the moment when she’d realized the maid might inform his mother of their indiscretion.

Phoebe’s mortification the instant she realized his mother might learn of the incident had been so acute it still made his gut twist painfully. He knew Phoebe was fond of his mother, and the possibility of Phoebe falling out of grace with the marchioness would be as painful for Phoebe as what she’d just suffered moments ago.

He knew his mother well enough to know it was unlikely she would condemn Phoebe. The dowager would blame him, and rightfully so. She’d already warned him—Gideon stiffened in the middle of his thought. Christ Jesus, what if he’d made Phoebe with child. What if she were to give him a son. His son. A boy who would carry on the family name. He’d never considered having a son before. When his half-sister, Alice, had given birth to Thomas last year, he’d simply believed his nephew would inherit the title. The thought created a sense of satisfaction through him.

Another grandchild would make his mother happy. The pleasure he experienced at the thought vanished in an instant. Even if she became pregnant, Gideon was certain it would be difficult for him to convince Phoebe a union between them would be a good one. He needed help.

Gideon grimaced. There was only one person he knew who was up to the task of persuading Phoebe to marry him. His mother. She loved Phoebe, and the dowager marchioness would welcome Phoebe as a daughter-in-law with open arms. In fact, he was certain she would use every bit of sway she had over Phoebe to convince her to marry him.

Unwilling to wait to resolve the situation, he left the study and took the stairs two steps at a time. As he headed down the hallway, he grimaced as he saw Polly leaving his mother’s suite of rooms. The maid glanced in his direction, then quickly turned to head in the opposite direction. In a low voice, he ordered her to stop. She hesitated, then slowly turned to watch him approach. The fear on the woman’s face made him shake his head as he gestured that he wasn’t going to berate her.

“Is her ladyship still awake?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, my lord, her ankle was bothering her a bit. She refused to take any laudanum, so the doctor left some willow bark for me to brew in the kettle for her. She just finished it a moment ago.” The maid bobbed her head toward the empty teacup on the salver she carried.

“Thank you for taking care of her ladyship,” he said with a nod before he cleared his throat. Before he could speak, Polly shook her head quickly, the fear returning to her face.

“I won’t say a thing, my lord.”

“Thank you, Polly. I was certain you wouldn’t,” Gideon said soothingly. “But there’s the matter of Lady Helstone. What happened was humiliating for her, and I’m afraid that every time the two of you pass each other, her ladyship will relive that moment in my study.”