Under An English Moon (21 page)

“About the house? No, I have not.”

“About me?” she cried.

So taken aback was he by her reaction that he could do nothing for a moment but stare at her without words.

“Oh, Reggie!” Before he could stop her, Phoebe grabbed her skirts and ran inside the house. He turned to follow her but did not catch her before she ran up the stairs. He could not simply chase her down, nor he could he with any degree of decorum pound on her door and ask for an explanation of her whimsical changes in temperament.

In a house not his own, he was not even free to sulk in the library, and he had no intention of retiring to his room to brood. He longed to ride Sebastian, but there did not seem to be enough time to hurry over to his own home and saddle him.

Reggie turned from the house and made his way to the wooded area at the side of the house, there to ponder the mysteries of women, love, and marriage—not necessarily an inclusive package as he was discovering.

“I hear you are to be congratulated,” William said as he approached.

Reggie looked up, stricken. He shook his head. “I do not think so, William. Perhaps this morning, but I cannot think that Miss Warner desires to marry me.”

William looked taken aback, and Reggie did not blame him. Could this have been the shortest engagement in the annals of history?

“Come, come, Reggie. What has gone awry? Mattie told me only a short time ago that you and Miss Warner were engaged. But now I find you brooding in the woods, and Miss Warner apparently locked in her room.”

“I cannot say.” Reggie shrugged. “One moment I am made the happiest man in the world and in the next, I am brought lower than I thought possible. Phoebe did agree to marry me this morning and all seemed well, but at some point during our visit to the village, she seems to have rethought her decision.”

“Did she say so?” William asked.

“Not in so many words,” Reggie shrugged. “But there was a hesitation about her when I met them at the dressmaker’s shop, a reluctance in her demeanor that gave me pause. She could not face me directly as she had only hours before, and I knew that I had pressed her too hard to marry me...that she had regretted accepting my proposal. You will remember that she did not wish to marry me at this time, claiming she did not know me well enough. That she agreed so suddenly this morning delighted me beyond words, but it should have been suspect, and I was too blinded by joy to allow myself to see it. I do believe she holds me in the highest regard, perhaps even loves me, but I do not think she is reconciled to marriage...or perhaps even to life in the nineteenth century.”

William sighed. “I think you may have been hasty in your assessment of the situation, Reggie. Did you ask her whether she still wished to marry you?”

Reggie shook his head. “No, I did not ask the specific question.” He scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot. “I was seized with a misery which tied my tongue and clouded my mind.”

“And perhaps your judgment. I hear naught in your words to suggest that she wished to end the engagement,” William said. He pulled out his pocket watch. “I must change for dinner, as should you. Mattie rarely entertains at home given that she did not grow up accustomed to such society, thank goodness, and I wish things to go as pleasantly for her as possible.”

“Of course, William!” Reggie said. “I will be on my best behavior at dinner. I am grateful to you for sheltering us, and I wish only the best for Mattie. You are a very lucky man.”

William clapped an arm around Reggie’s shoulders. “I am a fortunate man, but my happiness was not achieved without suffering. It is possible that may be your path as well.”

“If the end of the trial is a life with the woman I love, then I can endure anything,” Reggie said quietly.

“Well said, Reggie.”

****

As he promised, Reggie set himself out to be a gracious guest, although he was not overly fond of Mr. Duncan. He found Mr. Duncan to behave too familiarly toward Phoebe next to whom he was seated. Reggie had been seated on the opposite side of the table and forced to watch the tall dark-haired man attempt to charm Phoebe. Had Reggie introduced Phoebe as his betrothed, that might have put to rest the man’s fatuous smiles toward her, but Reggie had been wounded at the time and had withheld that information—prophetically as it seemed.

Phoebe’s face was drawn, and her nose tinged pink suggesting she had been crying. His heart ached for her, but he could not be certain he had it within his power to lift her spirits. Although, as William said, perhaps he had been hasty in his assessment of the situation that morning.

However, Phoebe averted her eyes from him, and he had no opportunity to talk to her privately that evening. In short, she avoided him, and there was nothing he could do about it at present.

The Sinclairs and Mr. Thompson discussed the possibility of investing in a publishing business. Mr. Duncan, when he could be bothered to draw himself away from Phoebe, joined in. At those times, Phoebe kept her attention on the discussion, and Reggie watched her.

He loved her dearly, of that he was in no doubt. But if she wished to return to her time, then perhaps she had better do so The moon was still high in the sky that night. If she thought their joint wishes could help her return home, then he was prepared to do that for her. He did not know how much longer the moon would be full. He vowed to ask her what her wishes were before she retired to her room for the night.

The hours passed slowly, and the interminable, though well-prepared, dinner finally came to an end. William did not delay at the table but joined the ladies immediately. Reggie attempted to catch Phoebe’s eye on entering the drawing room but failed. She kept close to Mattie. He noted Mattie watched them and exchanged troubled glances with William. Reggie shrugged when William looked his way.

Reggie moved closer to Phoebe and leaned near.

“A word in private before you retire, Phoebe,” he said in a low voice.

“No,” Phoebe whispered in a harsh note. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She moved away to stand on the other side of Mattie as she talked to Mr. Thompson and Mr. Duncan.

Reggie stiffened and straightened. That was her answer. She did not wish to discuss the matter further. His chest ached, and he wanted nothing so much as to rush out of the house and hop upon Sebastian to ride out into the night—which, of course, was the thing that had brought him to his heartache.

And he had promised William he would do his best to make the evening a pleasant one for Mattie. He could not leave early, could not plead a headache or whatever it was that young misses did when they were unhappy.

Fortunately, the Sinclairs and the publishers concluded their business, and those gentlemen bid them goodnight. Mr. Duncan lingered overly long with Phoebe’s hand in farewell, and Reggie contemplated raising a fist to the man’s chin but held back and clasped the offending hands behind his back.

As the front door closed, Phoebe bid them good night and hastened up the stairs to her room. Mattie and William looked at Reggie, who pressed his lips together and said his good night as well. He climbed the stairs slowly and waited in his room until he heard the sounds of doors closing and the house quieting. He changed out of his eveningwear and into more comfortable clothing, grateful that a bag had been delivered for him that morning.

Reggie inched the door open and heard no sounds. He stepped out into the hallway and listened. Nothing. He approached the door to Phoebe’s room and listened carefully. No sounds of stirring. A faint light showed below the threshold of the door. It seemed that Phoebe did not yet sleep. Reggie took a deep breath.

Chapter Fifteen

Reggie rode out on Sebastian early the next morning to meet with the local estate agent. His late night jaunt to Ashton House to ride Sebastian had been at once stealthy and yet liberating. Unable to force himself to knock on Phoebe’s door as he longed to do, he had instead sought solace in the company of his horse. Contrary to his previous outing on Sebastian, he had not ridden pell-mell into the darkness in anger but had sedately allowed Sebastian to feel his way down the lane of the estate. They had retraced their steps to where Reggie had fallen in the dirt, lingering there a while to no particular purpose other than to dwell on memories.

The moon seemed to waver as it shone down on him, glowing less brightly than when he had last looked upon it. Was it still full? If Phoebe wished to return to her time, she must decide soon. He pitied her and pitied himself, indulging in a few moments of unadulterated wallowing before reining himself in.

Now, the next morning, Reggie determined to find himself a house regardless of whether Phoebe wished to marry him or not. He no longer cared to live in his father’s house, but desired his own home. He had thought to ride over to Hamilton Place early in the morning and invite Samuel to accompany him since he had promised his brother he could have a home, but Reggie decided to investigate alone. If Phoebe could not accompany him as they had originally planned, then he wanted no other. Samuel could, of course, live in his home, but he would have no say in the selection of it.

He met the estate agent in the village, a tall, thin man of indeterminate age named Mr. Hart, and he followed him to an estate several miles from the village. In such close proximity to his own home, Reggie had indeed heard the name of the family who had previously owned the estate, the father a banker, but he had never met them.

Mr. Hart drove his small carriage while Reggie followed on Sebastian, preferring to be solitary. They soon approached the unassuming gates of the estate and entered to follow a wide lane toward the house. The trees parted and a charming castellated and turreted house festooned with multiple white-trimmed windows appeared before them.

Reggie’s first impression was that Phoebe would have loved the house that had the look of a small castle. Having just been built in the late 1770’s, the house appeared new and yet medieval with its many turrets. He half expected to see a moat surrounding it, but they arrived at the circular entrance without crossing any such thing.

“I should like to see the gardens of the house before entering it, if you please, Mr. Hart.” Reggie dismounted and tied Sebastian to a post.

“Certainly, Lord Hamilton. I think I know something you will enjoy. This way.” Mr. Hart led him around the side of the house and toward the back where they climbed onto a wide stone terrace that overlooked a pastoral scene of green fields as far as the eye could see with cows grazing along the side of a dazzling stream of azure blue. Trees dotted the landscape. The gardens just below the terrace sported masses of colorful flowers. He turned toward the house. Two large bay windows, as tall as the door they flanked, overlooked the vista behind him. He imagined evenings watching the sun set in the distance across the plains.

Without seeing the inside of the house, Reggie knew he had found the one. Phoebe would have loved it, and he knew he would love it as well whether she ever lived there with him or not.

“I will take it, Mr. Hart,” Reggie said, his heart thudding as it had when he proposed to Phoebe. “When may I take possession?”

“Do you not wish to see inside, Lord Hamilton?”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Hart, but that will not change my decision. Shall we discuss the details while we walk?”

“Oh, certainly!”

They retraced their steps and entered the house while they discussed price and availability. The house, although furnished, was available, and Mr. Hart thought the owners might be willing to let the furnishings go with the house. It was available immediately.

The inside of the house, as promised, did not dissuade him from his decision, nor was there anything about it that was not wonderful. The layout was elegant yet informal, the furnishings festive and colorful. Phoebe would have delighted at the interior of the house. Perhaps she could still one day see the house before she returned to her own time, if that was her intention. He could not imagine that she would choose to stay for any other reason...unless it was impossible to find her way back.

Reggie returned to Ashton House. Mattie ran out the door as soon as he cleared the trees, and Phoebe hung by the doorway.

“Where have you been?” Mattie called out as he rode up. “And when did you get your horse?”

Reggie dismounted and handed Sebastian to a waiting groom.

“I am almost too mortified to admit that I went for Sebastian last night.” He kept his gaze on Mattie.

“After dinner? Are you serious?”

He smiled awkwardly. “I am serious. I wanted to ride.”

“Well, that’s what happened to you last time, and look where you ended up.” Mattie said. She turned to look at Phoebe by the front door watching them. She lowered her voice. “Look, Reggie, you need to fix this. I don’t know what happened between you two, but she’s miserable. When she found out you’d gone this morning, she burst into tears. You nineteenth-century guys! Heartbreakers, all of you!”

Reggie wished he could smile at her quip, but he could not. “I believe we are no longer engaged, Mattie. It seems as if Phoebe had a change of heart yesterday, or perhaps her heart was never in it.”

“Oh, nonsense!” Mattie cried. “What do you mean? She’s head over heels for you. What happened?”

“I do not know,” he said, swallowing against the renewed ache in his throat. “When we met for tea, she had changed. You saw it, I believe. She was secretive, uncertain, reluctant. She could not meet my eyes. I knew then that I had pressed her too much and forced her to accept my suit.”

Mattie’s eyes widened, and she sighed and shook her head. “I think I know what this is about. It’s not what you think, Reggie, I promise. Did you ask her about it?”

“I tried to talk to her last night, but she said she did not wish to discuss the matter. Unfortunately, she believes I have changed my mind. I believe she changed hers.”

“You two!” Mattie muttered. “Phoebe, can you come here a minute?”

“Mattie, do not!” Reggie said harshly. “Do not press Miss Warner any further.”