Under An English Moon (22 page)

Phoebe moved forward reluctantly, as if she were headed for the guillotine. She came to stand beside Mattie, her eyes on the ground.

“Look, you guys. I’m kind of a wannabe matchmaker, so I can’t let this sit. Reggie thinks you’re hiding a secret, Phoebe—that you don’t want to marry him. Reggie, Phoebe just cries and cries, say’s it’s over and won’t talk about it.” She stepped back and made a gesture of washing her hands. “You two figure it out. But trust me, Reggie, nothing happened in town yesterday that would affect how Phoebe feels about you. I know. I was there.” She turned on her heels and reentered the house, leaving Phoebe and Reggie to face each other.

“I’m sorry I blew you off last night, Reggie. I should have tried to listen. I was just too scared to hear what I didn’t want to hear. You can tell me what you need to now.” Phoebe’s voice was leaden.

Reggie gestured toward the garden. “Shall we walk, Phoebe? Whether you wish to marry me or not, I hope we shall always be friends.”

Phoebe’s head shot up and she stared at him for a moment before turning in the direction of the garden. He followed her. The lilac gown she wore suited her fair complexion and brought forth the golden tints in her brown hair. She wore no bonnet, and he wished he were free to run his fingers along the silky curls at her neck. Her ramrod straight back, however, suggested that would be out of the question.

She seated herself on the bench and turned to look at him.

“Would you sit down, please? I can’t have you hovering over me that way.”

Reggie realized he had been indeed hovering nervously, and he seated himself.

“So, what did you want to say, Reggie?” Phoebe asked in a quiet voice.

“I bought a house,” Reggie said, the first thing that came to his mind. “I know you will probably never live there, but I wish you to see it.”

Phoebe swung her head in his direction. Her face grew bright red, and her mouth worked but she uttered no words. She turned away, and Reggie swallowed hard. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and he fished in his coat for his kerchief.

“Phoebe, Phoebe, forgive me. I meant no injury to you. Please do not cry.”

She began to cry in earnest, and he waved the kerchief ineffectually.

“Do not cry, my love. Do not cry,” he murmured. He pulled her toward him, she resistant at first then yielding, and he held her as she sobbed. He murmured inconsequential words against the sweetness of her hair.

“I do not mean to hurt you. I am a beast. I sought only to share my find with you. You would adore the house. You truly would.”

“You were supposed to take me with you,” Phoebe wailed against his chest.

“But I thought you would not wish to go, Phoebe,” he said. “You seemed so...reticent yesterday.”

Phoebe began crying anew. “I wanted to go. You promised,” she sobbed.

Reggie knew he had little enough experience with women, but he certainly had no experience with women from the twenty-first century.

“I could not speak to you last night. I thought you were angry with me.”

“I was,” she said. “I
was
mad at you.”

“There! What am I to think? Yesterday morning, I was overjoyed, but then you retreated from me, and I suspected that you had changed your mind and could not find a way to tell me. Your acceptance of my proposal, while the most fortunate event of my life, was unexpected both for you and for me.”

She nodded against his chest. “I know. It surprised me, too. I wanted to wait until I knew you better, but I realized I’ll never love anyone as much as I love you no matter how well I know them.”

Reggie wondered if he heard correctly. Her words were too wonderful.

“Did you say that you loved me?”

She nodded, her face rubbing against his coat. “I told you that before.
I
haven’t changed.”

“Oh, my love, I am so sorry to have hurt you. I should have waited to find the house. I was confused. I did not understand. Perhaps I do not know you well enough either. Why then did your temperament change yesterday morning? Was it an unexpected shyness on the occasion of our betrothal?”

Phoebe lifted her head and looked at him. “I can’t tell you.”

“You cannot tell me? Why ever not? What could you not tell me? Do we not love one another?”

Phoebe nodded. “I love
you
, I know that.”

“And I love you too, my dearest girl. So then what?”

“I can’t tell you,” Phoebe shook her head again.

Reggie released her and rose abruptly. “What? Are we to begin our lives together with secrets and distrust? What can you not tell me?”

Phoebe jumped up. “It’s not my secret to tell. I promised I wouldn’t.” Her voice was strident.

“To whom does the secret belong then? Is it Mattie? What secret could she have that would affect you and I?”

Phoebe shook her head. “No, not Mattie.”

“William then?”

Phoebe shook her head. “Stop fishing, Reggie. It doesn’t matter. I can’t tell you.”

“Well, it certainly cannot be that odious Mr. Duncan who fawns upon you. I hope we have seen the last of him, but I fear it is not to be if William intends to enter into business with them, and you and Mattie choose to work together.”

Phoebe’s lips twitched. “Not the
odious
Mr. Duncan,” she said. “He wasn’t that bad, Reggie.”

“His behavior was reprehensible. Certainly to a betrothed woman.” Reggie drew his brows together.

“Well, he didn’t know I was engaged. I don’t think we mentioned it. I think it was kind of up in the air at the time.”

“Nonetheless, to openly flirt with an unmarried young lady in the home of his host. Appallingly bad behavior.”

“Reggie,” Phoebe murmured with an affectionate tone of reproach.

Reggie was not repentant. “Nonetheless,” he stated to no purpose other than to have the last word.

“Tell me about the house. How is the attic? Anybody up there?” she said.

“You seek to change the subject.”

“I do,” she said. “It’s like this. I love you, Reggie. I can’t tell you what the secret is. I wish I hadn’t acted the way I did yesterday, but you seem to have a knack for being able to read my expressions, so I can’t hide anything from you. Whatever the secret is, it doesn’t affect me.”

Reggie took Phoebe’s hands in his and kissed the backs of them. “I study your face often, my love, and do not miss many of your expressions which you show in abundance. However, I am not always able to interpret your emotions. If the secret does not affect you, then it does not affect me, and so I am content to let it be. I apologize for haranguing you on the subject.”

Phoebe’s eyes flickered, and her smile wavered.

“Alas, I see by your expression that my words have not rung true. Then if the secret does not involve you, it involves me. Is that correct?”

Phoebe sighed and would have removed her hands from his, but Reggie kept them in a gentle grasp. “Technically, I would by lying to you to say that it doesn’t involve you, however remote. And I don’t want to start lying to you.”

Reggie heaved a sigh. “But it does not affect you, and that is my main concern. Who must I ask about this secret?”

Phoebe shook her head. “I can’t say. You might try Mattie.”

Reggie quirked a brow. “Then it is Mattie’s secret. How it might concern me is beyond my comprehension.”

“I’ll bet,” Phoebe said. “So, about that house.”

“We should have luncheon then I shall borrow William’s carriage, and we shall set out to see the house together this afternoon. I will need to obtain the keys from the land agent.”

An hour later, not only did Reggie and Phoebe set out to see the house, but William, Mattie and their child joined them.

As Reggie had predicted, Phoebe loved the house, commenting effusively on how “new” it looked for a historic home. He reminded her that it was only approximately fifty-five years old, not at all historic in the true sense of the word. His hopes were realized when Phoebe sang the praises of the terraced view of the river and pastures beyond.

“Oh, Reggie, this is beautiful! Just beautiful. You picked well.”

“You are pleased then?” he said as he held her hands.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed. “It’s perfect. It’s like a castle!”

“A castle indeed,” he said with satisfaction.

“I’m heading for the attics,” she said with a broad smile.

Phoebe and Mattie, carrying Mia, continued on to explore the inside of the house while William and Reggie stood on the balcony and watched the river beyond.

“An excellent choice, Reggie,” William said. “This will make a magnificent wedding present. I assume that you and Miss Warner have resolved your differences?”

“A misunderstanding, no more. I apologize if I seemed melodramatic. I felt quite despondent yesterday.”

“I am pleased to see that you were able to speak to each other,” William said. “Truthfulness is vital to a good marriage, I believe. Truthfulness, trust, and love.”

“There is an element of the misunderstanding about which Phoebe is not able to be quite truthful though,” Reggie began. He hesitated to broach the subject, but Phoebe did say he should ask Mattie, and Reggie deduced that what Mattie knew, William also knew.

“Oh?” William turned to him.

“Phoebe tells me she is in possession of a secret that does not affect her but does affect me. She came upon it yesterday at some point, and she states that Mattie is privy to it. I think you and Mattie share every confidence if I’m not mistaken, and I wonder if you could not tell me what it is. You can imagine what it is like to know there is a mysterious matter about one’s self which one cannot know about.”

William nodded and resumed his perusal of the river. Reggie thought he meant to dismiss the topic out of hand.

“I am conflicted,” William began. “Mattie did speak to me in confidence, but she did not release me to speak to you. She and Miss Warner were sworn to secrecy. That is all I can say at this time. Let me speak to Mattie regarding the matter, and I will let you know her decision. It is not something that will
harm
you, Reggie. It is not something that should really overly concern you, in my opinion.”

“Does it affect Phoebe in any way?” Reggie asked, ignoring an uncomfortable thump of his heart in his chest.

“Not at all,” William said. “Nor Mattie, nor me.”

“Then it cannot be so bad,” Reggie said. “I will await your decision.”

The ladies rejoined them, and they returned to Ashton House in high spirits. Upon arriving at the front door, they found Samuel there dismounting from his horse and carrying a carpetbag. A groom hurried up, and John pulled open the door.

“Samuel!” Reggie jumped down from the carriage. “Have you come to call?”

“I hope to come to stay if William and Mrs. Sinclair will have me. Hamilton Place is intolerable in your absence.”

Chapter Sixteen

Phoebe, helped down from the carriage by Reggie, turned to look at Mattie, who seemed unfazed by Samuel’s arrival.

“I don’t blame you, Samuel,” she said. “Not one little bit. Of course, you can stay here.”

The groom took Samuel’s horse, and John took his bag.

“Up to the blue room, John. Thank you,” Mattie said.

“This is most kind of you, Mattie,” Reggie said, wrapping an arm around his brother as they all entered the house.

Jane came downstairs to take Mia for a snack. “Could you ask them to bring some tea to the drawing room, Jane?” Mattie asked. “Thanks.”

“Come on into the drawing room, Samuel,” Mattie said.

Phoebe marveled at Mattie’s ability to switch between a more formal speech pattern when speaking to strangers, and her modern-day Americanisms when speaking to family or her staff. Though Samuel probably didn’t know she was a time traveler, she seemed unworried about possible discovery by him. Phoebe wondered if she would ever be able to transition between the two eras as well as Mattie seemed to be doing.

Reggie took her hand in his and pulled her gently by his side.

“Samuel, please congratulate me. I had the honor to ask Miss Warner for her hand in marriage, and she has accepted.”

Samuel’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

Reggie waited, and Phoebe thought she could feel a slight tension in the grip of his hand. She hadn’t realized his brother’s opinion was so important to him.

Why didn’t Samuel say something? Was he worried he couldn’t come to live with his brother as they’d talked about?

“You can still come to live at the house, Samuel! I wouldn’t stop that,” Phoebe blurted out. Reggie squeezed her hand.

Samuel’s face reddened, and he bowed his head. “Many felicitations, Miss Warner. Reggie. Forgive my delayed response. I was taken aback, that is all.”

“It is as Miss Warner says, Samuel. You shall come to live with us. I have this day purchased a house, and there is ample room for all of us...and more.” He turned an affectionate eye on Phoebe who blushed.

She had no doubt he meant children. She hoped they looked like him.

“That is kind of you,” Samuel said.

John arrived with the tea, and the awkward moment was broken as Mattie busied herself pouring. They seated themselves and settled into a discussion of the new house and grounds. Phoebe noticed Samuel, standing by the cold fireplace, stared at her then at Reggie, and she wondered what he was thinking. She tried smiling at him when she caught him watching her, and he responded with a faint lift of his own lips, but she sensed that he didn’t really see her. She had a feeling something else was on his mind—not the news of his brother’s marriage and not the house.

Was he thinking of the dressmaker? Sarah?

A glance to her left showed that Reggie, seated next to her on a settee, studied Samuel as well with a frown on his face. Phoebe hoped she wasn’t coming between them.

John opened the door.

“Lord and Lady Hamilton,” he announced.

Phoebe noted with a pounding heart that everyone in the room jumped up as Reggie’s father and stepmother entered the room with the exception of William who remained calm and rose to bow in a leisurely manner.

“Samuel! We did not think to find you here.” His father boomed. “I wondered why we did not see you for luncheon.”