Page 83 of An Alleged Rogue

“It must be that I have grown so accustomed to being outdoors at Dunsbourne Manor that I do not know quite what to do with myself in the house,” she said, her explanation at least partially true.

“Well, you must reacquaint yourself with indoor activities then,” her mother said. “Especially as it will not be long before the weather precludes you from going outside at all.”

“Of course.” Phoebe rose to her feet again. “I should have thought of it before. I shall take a walk while the sun still shines, and when I return, I will undoubtedly be ready to sit quietly.”

Her mother pursed her lips. Phoebe’s solution was evidently not what she had intended. But before she could offer an alternate suggestion, a knock sounded on the drawing room door and Gresham entered.

“Mr. Derrick Webb is here to see Miss Hadford, ma’am.”

Her mother had the decency to pause before responding. She glanced at Phoebe, who shook her head frantically.

“I refuse to be rude to a good neighbor simply to appease your unproven notions, Phoebe,” she said quietly. “Mr. Webb has done nothing to deserve our disdain.”

Phoebe clasped her hands together tightly. “I believe he has.”

“What, pray tell?”

“He openly spreads malicious gossip whilst hiding his own vices from the world.”

“My dear, there is not a lady or gentleman in Society who does not have at least one vice, and tattling is as natural as breathing within the ton.”

“Please, Mother,” Phoebe begged. “I do not wish to speak with Mr. Webb.”

“Nonsense. You have always enjoyed social interactions. The gentleman’s visit will be just the thing to distract you from your current restlessness.” She turned back to the butler. “Invite Mr. Webb into the drawing room, Gresham.”

The butler bowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Phoebe closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Surely all those tedious comportment lessons she had endured in her youth had prepared her for navigating a visit from a disagreeable gentleman. She could be polite for half an hour—for her mother’s sake. But if the conceited gentleman made one derogatory statement about Lord Dunsbourne or his sister, so help her, she would not hold back.

Mr. Webb appeared in the doorway, and her mother stood to greet him.

“Mr. Webb, what a lovely surprise.”

He bowed. “Mrs. Hadford. Miss Hadford. I hope you do not mind my coming unannounced.”

“Of course not,” her mother said. “Please join us, and I shall call for tea.”

Phoebe reclaimed her chair, relieved when their guest took the one opposite rather than beside her.

“I have not seen you for some time, Miss Hadford,” Mr. Webb said. “I hope you are well.”

“Quite well, thank you.”

“I did stop by a few days ago, but you were unavailable. Perhaps your mother mentioned it?”

“She did.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Phoebe saw her mother frown. Phoebe’s succinct answers to Mr. Webb’s questions were clearly not to her mother’s liking.

Stifling a sigh, Phoebe made a little more effort. “How is Marianne?”

“Well enough, I believe. She entertained Miss Chapman for tea earlier this week and was on a quest for more ribbons this morning.”

“Did you drive her down to the milliner’s shop in your curricle, then?”

For the first time since he’d entered the room, Mr. Webb appeared uncomfortable. “No. As a matter of fact, I no longer own the vehicle. It really was not all it was touted to be, so I sent it back to the original owner.”

Sent it, sold it, or lost it in another wager, Phoebe wondered. It was hard to imagine the gentleman relinquishing a vehicle he had been so taken with unless it had been a forced decision.