Page 47 of An Alleged Rogue

Phoebe recognized the admiration in her father’s voice, and it warmed her heart. If her father had heard the rumors about Lord Dunsbourne, he had chosen to ignore them. He was following the very advice he had given to her: he was making his own decision about the baron. And if this interaction was anything to go by, it seemed her father’s leanings were much the same as hers.

The baron laughed. It was a pleasant sound that eased the tension in Phoebe’s shoulders.

“I should like to claim that my knowledge of apples and cider production is excellent, but I fear there is always something new to learn.”

“As there should be,” her father said. “Once we stop acquiring new knowledge, we become very boring individuals.”

“I daresay you are right, sir.”

Their footsteps were muffled against the ground, and it took Phoebe a moment before she realized they were walking toward her. She turned to go and then vacillated. Should she stay, or should she flee? Her indecision made the choice for her. As the gentlemen rounded the tree, she found herself directly in her father’s sights.

“Good morning, Phoebe.” If her father was surprised to see her, he hid it well.

“Good morning, Father. Lord Dunsbourne.” Phoebe bobbed a curtsy, willing her voice to sound calmer than her heart rate. “I had not thought to find you here.”

“We are taking inventory of the trees in the orchard,” her father said. “Lord Dunsbourne here is rather an expert on the matter.”

Lord Dunsbourne had yet to speak, but Phoebe felt his gaze.

She faced him. “I am glad you are come, my lord.”

Surprise flickered in his eyes before he inclined his head. “I thank you, Miss Hadford. There are few places I find more pleasing than an orchard.”

Her father chuckled. “I daresay you may be one of the only barons in England who would make such a claim.”

The corner of Lord Dunsbourne’s lips quirked upward. “I imagine you are correct, sir. What of you, Miss Hadford? What brings you to the orchard?”

“I was taking a walk, my lord, and stopped to sit on the bench beneath the apple tree for a spell.”

“Both my daughters are rather fond of that old bench,” her father said.

Phoebe gave him an appreciative smile. Anything that he might say to prevent Lord Dunsbourne from believing she had purposely come here to spy on him was welcome.

“I can see why. It is very nicely situated.”

There was a rustle of leaves, and a footman appeared through the nearby gap in the hedge. “Pardon me, Mr. Hadford,” he said with a bow. “Gresham asked that I inform you that your carriage is ready.”

Her father pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it. “Good heavens. Is it that time already?” He offered the baron an apologetic look. “Forgive me, Dunsbourne, I had not intended to monopolize your entire morning.”

“And I have no wish to delay your departure. Please feel free to return to the house right away. I can make my own way to the stables to retrieve my horse.”

Phoebe read the conflict on her father’s face as the need to start his journey warred with his desire to extend every courtesy to his guest.

“Go ahead, Father,” she said. “There is no need for Lord Dunsbourne to return to the stables alone. I can walk back to the house that way.”

Her father’s lack of disagreement confirmed that he considered his immediate departure to be necessary.

“Thank you, my dear.” He leaned closer and kissed her cheek. “I shall see you within the fortnight.”

“Travel safely, Father.”

Her father bowed to Lord Dunsbourne. “Best wishes with your apple harvest, my lord. I look forward to our discussion upon my return.”

Lord Dunsbourne inclined his head. “Until then, Mr. Hadford.”

Phoebe followed her father through the gap in the hedge, and with mounting anxiety, she watched him march briskly across the lawn toward the front of the house. What had she been thinking? Her offer to walk with Lord Dunsbourne had been the height of foolishness. Without her father, there would be no buffer against the baron’s disregard. No matter that they were in plain sight should anyone care to look out of one of the house’s many windows, she had never felt so defenseless.

They started across the grass, the silence between them growing with each step.