Of course, Thomas disobeyed his mother, sneaking over to visit Julia and Phoebe whenever he got the chance. He had joined with them in deciding that Lord Stonehaven must have been the real thief and the engineer of Selbys downfall. Stonehaven had visited him the least of his trustees and was, in Thomass opinion, a cold fish. It was Thomas who had first suggested that they capture Stonehaven and force him to reveal his criminal behavior, and he had wanted badly to play a part in the seizure. It had seemed a stroke of good luck when his mother had decided to go to London for the Season, and he had begged and pleaded and cajoled until finally Pamela had broken down and agreed to let him accompany her.
He had thought he would be easily able to join Julia in the escapade, but he had found out, much to his chagrin, that he was far more imprisoned in the house in London than he had been in the country. He was under the constant careful eye of the London tutor his mother had hired, and there were no afternoon rides, since he had had to leave his horse in the country. As a result, Julia had seen him only twice since they had come to London. Of course, she was glad now, considering the turn her plans had taken. Thomas, though only fourteen, would probably have gotten terribly male and disapproving about it all.
Her eyes twinkling devilishly, Julia went on speaking to the stony Mrs. St. Leger. Odd, isnt it, that we should run into one another here in London, when we never see each other in Kent, even though we live only miles apart? When Pamela said nothing, merely raised her eyebrows, Julia pressed, Dont you think so, Mrs. St. Leger?
Pamela stirred uneasily, glancing at Varian, who was watching her. Indeed, she said through tight lips.
Phoebe and I were remarking only the other day that we rarely see you anymore. We hoped that you were not eschewing social life, as some matrons do in widowhood. Phoebe thought it was probably that you, as she is, are still in mourning for your husband, but I told her I thought that could not be the reason, for you were frequently at parties after he died, and I was sure that you had put off mourningoh, within a few months after Walters funeral.
Bright spots of color leaped into Pamelas cheeks at Julias words, delivered with a wide-eyed innocence that did not fool the other woman for a minute. She knew as well as Julia that there had been a great deal of talk about the brevity of her mourning for Walter St. Leger, which Phoebes presence in her black widows weeds three years after Selbys death seemed to underscore.
Yes. Walter never liked black on a woman, she said in a clipped voice, driven out of her disdainful silence by the need to justify herself.
Ah, of course. Julia smiled with understanding. Im sure Walter would have been very pleased to see you. I told Phoebe I did not think it was mourning that kept you away from the small social pleasures of Whitley. I was sure it was probably some physical infirmity. I hope not lumbagothat can be a terribly painful thing, I understand.
Pamelas eyes shot fire. No, I assure you it was not physical infirmity that kept me away. Indeed, I attend many soirees and balls, Miss Armiger.
Indeed? Why is it that we never see you, then? Julia wrinkled her brow in puzzlement.
Are you determined, then, to hear it? Pamela snapped. Julia wondered if she realized how unattractive she looked like this, her features sharp and hawklike, her eyes narrowed, and her lips, never full, reduced to a mere line. I do not go where you are received, as you no doubt know. No woman of any standing would.
Varians expression of shock and distaste as he looked at Pamela was precisely what Julia would have wished for. But all her satisfaction was wiped out when she heard Phoebes sharp intake of breath and turned to see the hurt on her face at Pamelas verbal slap.
Phoebe, Im sorry, Julia said softly, curling her arm around her sister-in-laws waist.
Mrs. St. Leger! Varian snapped. Really! I am quite sure you did not mean that. He glared at her significantly.
Everyone knows it! Pamela retorted defiantly, still too caught up in her anger to care that she looked mean and spiteful in front of her sons trustee.
Phoebe, please, accept my apology, Varian went on, turning abruptly from Pamela toward Phoebe. I assure you that most people do not feel that way.
Phoebe smiled at him. You are most kind, Varian. I know that you do not.
Indeed not. I hope you will allow me the honor of calling upon you while you are in London.
Of course.
He turned to Julia and made his apologies and goodbyes, adding that he trusted her to take care of Lady Armiger. Then he hustled Pamela away.
Julia turned to Phoebe. Oh, Fee, Im sorry. I should never have goaded her like that. I was so intent on forcing her to admit what a witch she is that I didnt even think about you. I should have known it would hurt you. It is simply that I am so thick-skinned, you see. No, please, dont cry.
Phoebe shook her head, giving Julia a shaky little smile. Her eyes sparkled with sudden unshed tears. No. It isnt that. It was your calling me Fee. Selby always used to call me that. Remember? He was so fond of pet names.
Yes, I remember. Julia felt tears clogging up her own throat at the memory. Even Julia he had shortened to Julie, and he had almost never called Phoebe by her full name. He called you Fee and Delight.
A little noise escaped Phoebe at her words. Oh, Julia! How can it still hurt after all this time?
I dont know. Julia hugged the other woman tightly. Sometimes I think that it will always hurt, at least a little.
I want to prove that Selby didnt do it, Phoebe said in a fiercer voice than Julia had ever heard from her. I want to prove that it was all Stonehavens doing and make that dreadful woman eat every nasty word shes ever said about Selby or you or me!
We will, Julia promised, setting her jaw. We will.
Julia was in the sitting room the next day, her fingers busy letting down the hem on another one of Phoebes dresses so that she could wear it. Her mind was occupied with her plan to manipulate Lord Stonehaven into confessing to his crime. She knew that she could not allow herself to be distracted again, as she had been last time by his kiss. She had to be firm and in control, and she had decided that the best way to do that was to plan the things she would say and do to lead him to talk, down to every last word and gesture.
The housekeeper, a fussy, plump woman in a white mob cap and an equally snowy apron, was standing beside Phoebe while Phoebe went over the menus for the rest of the week. Phoebe was engaged in another of a seemingly unending series of struggles over what should be served.
You see, Mrs. Willett, Phoebe was saying now, I dont really like duck.
But, my lady, duck was always one of the masters favorites. Mrs. Willett had been used to ruling the London house largely unchecked for over thirty years. The butler might go back and forth from the country house in Kent to London with the family, but the housekeeper stayed in charge in London over the long monthsand even years, latelywhen the family was not there, running a skeleton staff to keep the house in shape. Her guiding rule in any situation was to do exactly as she had always done.
Julia glanced over at Phoebe, who was biting her lip and looking worried, and Julia knew that Phoebe was, as Mrs. Willett had intended, feeling like an unloving, ungrieving widow for not wanting to eat one of her dead husbands favorite dishes.