Page 43 of The Rogue’s Countess

It had further emphasized the horrible life she’d lived as Helstone’s wife. He’d recognized her vulnerability that night in Montjoy’s garden, but he’d allowed her to leave him, only to condemn her a short while later for something that had been out of her hands.

“No. Phoebe’s marriage to Helstone was hellish enough. I can understand her reluctance to marry me, which is why I’m asking for your help.”

It had been painful enough to confess his sin to his mother, and the humiliation of being forced to plead for her help was doubly so, but it was the only option he had at this point. Lady Wrotham’s gaze skimmed over him as she looked him down and then up. As their eyes met, her scornful look cut deep.

“If I agreed to your request, what makes you believe I can be any more persuasive than you in making Phoebe agree to marry you?” She huffed a sound of disdainful skepticism.

“I don’t, but my offer is sincere.” Gideon stiffened as he suddenly realized the full ramifications of what had happened. “I have no desire to see Phoebe bearing the brunt of any potential scandal. God help her if P. Currer catches wind of this. It could very well destroy her.”

“Not, God help you?” The dowager arched an eyebrow in a derogatory manner.

“No, I’ll take Currer’s scathing assault on my character without protest. I deserve it. Phoebe doesn’t,” he said quietly. The dowager’s gaze narrowed before she nodded sharply.

“Very well, I’ll send for her in the morning.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Gideon bowed slightly in her direction. “I’ve one other favor to ask.”

“Another one?” His mother eyed him with disdain. “What is it?”

“I know you are always considerate of the feelings of others, which is why my request may seem insulting. It’s not intended as such.” Gideon released a harsh breath. “I only wish to spare Phoebe any further pain or humiliation. Please do not send Polly to fetch her.”

“I had no intention of doing so.” The dowager sniffed her displeasure indicating his request had been an insult despite his reassurance to the contrary. “Whether Phoebe agrees to marry you or not, we will need to handle the problem of Polly.”

“I have already dealt with that. I informed Polly that a dead relative has left her the deed to a small property as well as an annual income. In exchange, she will forget whatever she thinks she saw this evening.”

“Very well,” his mother huffed her approval. Gideon bowed again and moved toward the door. His hand had just wrapped around the crystalline doorknob when his mother called out his name. He paused and turned slightly in her direction. It was impossible to know what she was thinking as she tipped her head to one side and eyed him with puzzlement and curiosity.

“Why?” Her single word question caught him by surprise as he stared at her in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

“Why are you suddenly so concerned about Phoebe’s welfare. This morning you were convinced she was a social climber.”

“I realized I’d been wrong for the past five years. I’m the reason Phoebe was in the study to begin with. I wanted to apologize for insulting her.”

“And did she forgive you?”

“Yes, although I will be surprised if she forgives what I’ve done tonight. God knows I never shall. Goodnight, my lady.”

Without another word, Gideon walked out of his mother’s room feeling as if he was in the lowest level of hell itself.

Chapter 12

Phoebe sank down onto the bed and stared at the small purse in her hand that held one pound, six shillings. Other than the money she had deposited in the bank, it was all she had. Phoebe’s gaze fell on the small trunk and satchel she had begun to fill before dawn this morning. Leaving Chelmsford House as soon as possible was the only plan she had at the moment.

Yesterday she’d seen an advertisement for a small cottage in Staplefield that was available for purchase. She had planned on inquiring about it today, never expecting to be in dire need of it immediately. She could only pray the price would be within her means and still give her enough to live on until she found some form of employment. The memory of why she needed to find a home so quickly made her flinch.

It was impossible for her to stay. It didn’t matter what Gideon said. She couldn’t expect tongues not to wag. They always did. Phoebe had considered simply leaving Chelmsford House without saying goodbye to Lady Wrotham, but she owed the woman too much to run away like a coward. Facing the marchioness was quite likely to be even more humiliatingly painful than when the dowager’s maid had entered the library. She had no explanation for her sudden departure that the marchioness would accept. The only thing her employer would accept was the truth, which was something Phoebe could not share. Although Lady Wrotham was caring and generous, the woman might see her actions as a means of trapping her son into marriage.

Phoebe’s stomach lurched as she considered what would have happened if the maid had entered the library only a moment or two earlier. The woman would have witnessed Phoebe coming apart in Gideon’s arms. The memory of their passionate lovemaking made her draw in a sharp breath. Even now, she could still feel his mouth on hers. It was a tangible sensation that made her fingers trace the plumpness of her bottom lip. She’d surrendered to him so quickly, so easily.

As she recalled his wicked voice whispering her bed-chamber would be a better place to experience each other again, her mouth went dry. It was at that moment that she’d been forced to accept she would continue to surrender to him until he’d finished with her and moved on to his next conquest. Seconds later, everything had erupted in a sickening degradation that had left her ill. In those few short moments after Lady Wrotham’s maid ran from the library, she’d been overwhelmed with shame and humiliation.

When he’d asked her to marry him—no, in typical Gideon fashion, he’d not asked. He’d simply stated they would marry. As much as she abhorred the thought of marriage, the word yes had been on the tip of her tongue when he’d proposed. She was horrified that without hesitation or clarity of thought, she’d actually been about to accept his offer.

It was a warning she was even more vulnerable to him than she thought. If he had known how close she’d come to saying yes in those first few seconds, he would not have accepted any other answer to his proposal. After she’d fled the study last night, she’d been terrified Gideon would follow her. It wasn’t until long after she’d reached her room that her fear of him following her had ebbed away.

Deep in the back of her mind, a voice chided her for not admitting a small part of her had longed for him to seek her out. Phoebe’s heart skipped a beat. It was madness to think such a thing, and she quickly reminded herself that she was simply one more flower Lord Chelmbee had picked.