Page 65 of West End Earl
“Father, I’ll only say this once, so pay attention. I am not marrying Violet Cuthbert. The whole purpose of this house party was to find a match that would satisfy Rosehurst and get you out of your latest debacle.”
“Judging by your father’s shocked expression, you should have made your wishes on the matter clear sooner.” Phee’s statement would be mistaken for polite commentary by anyone who didn’t know better. If Cal stood close enough, he’d probably feel her vibrating with restrained rage.
Sighing, Cal slumped into the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands. So that was how this was going to happen. With witnesses. “I promised I would handle it, and I have been trying to do that. You had enough to worry about with your uncle—who is still a threat. And thanks to this marriage, my sister is now in danger as well.”
Emma stepped closer to Phee, as if forming a wall of solidarity. The battle lines couldn’t be clearer. He was the enemy.
“Friendsdon’t hide things from one another, Lord Carlyle. No matter their intention,” Phee said.
Lord, she’d used his title. Another piece of his battered heart broke off and turned to dust. A spike of anger flickered to life amidst the pain. “Speaking of hiding things, when were you two going to say something about Emma’s condition?”
His sister bit her lip and looked away. Something that might have been guilt crossed Phee’s face before disappearing behind a hard, composed mask. “That wasn’t my news to share. As to Milton, if his goal was to eliminate me before I could inherit, that’s now moot. I’m married; I’ve fulfilled the terms of my parents’ will.”
“And the insurance policy?”
“If he paid for it out of the estate, then I’ll have the power to cancel it.”
There was the quick mind he’d relied on for the last two years. Losing her as a lover was gutting. Losing her as an employee would have lasting repercussions too. Cal shook his head. A dull throb thrummed at his temple.
“All right, but this doesn’t end when you notify the solicitor of your marriage. If you think Milton will just shrug and slink off when he finds you’ve outmaneuvered him, you’re delusional. The threat remains.”
Eastly cleared his throat. “Murderous uncles, pregnant daughters, and barons with the power to destroy us. It’s quite the party you’re having, Son. We’d best hope your machinations are effective, because if Miss Cuthbert doesn’t catch the eye of someone during this visit, there will be no saving us.” On the list of things sustaining his father’s existence, drama ranked high, along with opera singers and other men’s wives. With typical flair, the marquess delivered that dire prediction-cum-threat, then swept from the room.
Everyone observed his departure, then looked at one another in silence for a moment. Exhaustion made Cal’s feet feel like he wore lead-lined boots as he rose. “You could have warned me about the marriage.”
“For someone so comfortable misleading the people in his life, you might want to check your position right now,” Phee said.
“I asked you to trust me. Ineededyou to trust me.” The words came out sounding strangled. Phee’s mouth tightened into a hard line.
“And I needed you to be an honest partner. You wouldn’t have kept Adam in the dark. Before this last month, you would’ve not only included me but expected me to help you,” she said.
Ouch. She was right. He would have told Adam everything and pulled him into the details. But Phee? He’d treated her like someone he could pat on the head while saying,There, there, I’ll fix it. She’d saidpartnerand he’d failed there too. “You’re right, Phee. I hate that you’re right, but you are. As usual.” Cal turned to Emma. “And you should have told me, brat.”
Emma nodded. “I know, but I was scared. Besides, you don’t have to fix everything, big brother.” With a grimace, she added, “I suppose we go tell everyone else now. Not that I’m really in the mood to celebrate.”
“Are the vases in danger again?” Phee asked, quirking her lips.
Emma laughed. “I don’t think so. But that could change at any moment. Stand at the ready, Phee. I might need you.”
Hearing Phee’s real name from Emma made Cal smile. Phee had one more friend who knew and would keep her secret, and knowing she wouldn’t be alone was a relief. “I’m glad you know the truth, Emma.”
“That Adam is actually Phee? Of course I do. Now, I may not want any champagne, but I have the fiercest craving for rhubarb tart. Do you think we could convince Cook to make some?”
“You’re the bride. You get what you want.” Phee offered her arm.
“One moment.” Emma fluffed the linen of Phee’s cravat. “There. Can’t have you appearing less than perfect when we tell everyone you’ve caught me.”
Phee laughed and shook her head. “Very wifely of you.”
They slipped out the door together, leaving Cal no choice but to watch them go, then swear profusely into the empty room.
***
“The tension between you and my brother is so thick, it would choke a goat. Also, you’re pale as a sheet,” Emma hissed. “I think the better question is, Doyouneed a vase?”
Phee pulled in a steadying breath. “Facing him was harder than expected.”
“You handled yourself beautifully when face-to-face with him, though. And again, I can’t thank you enough.” Emma squeezed Phee’s arm in a sort of side-body hug.
