Page 43 of Tutoring a Lady into Sin
“Good morning, Felton,” Phineas said, and he could not keep the elated smile from his face. “I was just on my way to the library, so if you will excuse me.”
Felton held up a hand to stop him. “I must speak with you, Phineas. At once.” Phineas had never heard Felton use this tone of voice. It was measured and even, yet there was a stern quality to it as well.
“Of course,” Phineas said as he took a step closer to his friend. “But is anything the matter?”
Felton lowered his hand and extracted a hunter-green handkerchief from his pocket. He held it to his lips and shook his head. “I simply must speak to you, Phineas. Can you make the time now?”
Phineas stared at his friend, who was behaving in an awfully detached, formal way this morning.
He must know about Christianna. He must have seen her come to my room last night.
The notion was not outside the bounds of possibility. Uncle Felton had long occupied the suite that was near the top of the staircase. That meant anyone who wandered down the men’s hall, whether they were looking for Percival, Phineas, or one of the male guests, would have to cross Uncle Felton’s path.
“Let us go out into the garden,” Phineas suggested as he swept his hand, indicating they should leave through the patio.
Uncle Felton shook his head and patted his lips once more with the green handkerchief. “I would prefer to stay indoors. It is too hot at present, and I think I would rather sit in the library with you as that is where you are most at your leisure.”
Phineas nodded dutifully. “Then, let us go to the library.” As he led the way down the hall, he hoped Christianna was not waiting there for him. His mind had unspooled all sorts of scenarios where she might be sitting there, on their window seat, wearing nothing but her stockings, but now, he chased away those visions as he did not want her to be shocked when he appeared with Uncle Felton in tow.
Christianna and I did not make any plans to meet today. Try to control your fantastic thoughts.
But never before had his imagination run so wild. Not only was he preoccupied with thinking of his lady, but he wondered what kind of reproach Lord Linfield intended to level at him. It was usually Percy who was on the receiving end of one of these rebukes, so Phineas hardly knew what to expect.
As he stopped outside the library, Phineas said loudly, “Here we are. I have brought you to the library, Uncle Felton, just as you requested.” He knew making such an announcement would not give Christianna nearly enough time to don her clothes, if she was, in fact, naked inside this room, but it was the least he could do to prepare her.
Uncle Felton gave Phineas a curious look but said nothing. Instead, he reached forward and swung open the door. Phineas gave a quick glance around. “Ah,” he sighed with relief, “we are to have a bit of privacy after all.”
Uncle Felton stepped inside the room and went straight to sit in one of the heavy armchairs that were pulled up next to the hearth. Since it was a very hot day, the fire was not lit, and yet, Phineas noticed a thin sheen of sweat on Lord Linfield’s brow. As he slumped into the chair, he said quietly, “Were you expecting someone to already be inside this room, Phineas?”
Phineas knew he could not keep this secret from his closest friend. He shut the door behind himself, then joined Uncle Felton. He plopped into the other armchair and gave a deeply contented sigh. “Lady Christianna and I have professed our love for one another.”
“Indeed?” Felton questioned.
Phineas nodded. “She and I have given ourselves to one another in every way, and we have vowed to—”
“But what of the vow she made to your brother?” Uncle Felton interrupted.
“She has made him no promises,” Phineas said quickly. He was a tad taken aback by Uncle Felton’s reaction but was not so thrown that he could not rush to defend his love for Christianna. “They are not married yet.”
“But they are betrothed to one another,” Uncle Felton replied. “And she has been staying at Bixby Hall for more than a fortnight because she has agreed to be his bride.” He used his handkerchief to wipe his brow. “If I am not mistaken, it was Lady Christianna and her aunt who first broached the subject of marriage to Percival.”
“That was so long ago,” Phineas argued.
“Not so very long…” Uncle Felton reminded him.
“But the arrangement between them was made before Christianna and I met one another. Had she and I had the privilege of encountering each other first…”
Uncle Felton coughed loudly. He winced, but then said, “You are not one to cast aside the facts, Phineas. Why are you turning a blind eye to them now?”
“I am telling you the facts, Felton,” Phineas protested. “Christianna does not love Percival.”
“Be that as it may, she has come here and most willingly agreed to marry your brother.” He paused and coughed once more into his handkerchief. “Have you considered what this affair between the two of you will cost you? Have you thought of how it will affect your family?”
“Of course,” Phineas replied without delay. “I have weighed the outcomes and—”
“But I do not think you have,” Uncle Felton interjected, and when he glanced sidelong at Phineas, his eyes were glassy and full of unshed tears. Phineas did not know if he was just so moved by this topic that his emotions were getting the best of him or if Felton was trying to contain another dreadful cough, and that was causing him a bit of pain.
“Are you…are you all right, Felton?” Phineas asked as he scooted to the edge of his seat and peered into his friend’s face. “You have gone remarkably pale and—”
