Page 57 of Tutoring a Lady into Sin
So even though he had his misgivings about revealing all to her, he knew he could trust her, at the very least, not to tell others what plagued him. “I went in search of Christianna last night, and just when I thought I happened upon her in the library, I overheard her talking with Percival.”
“Oh?” his mother asked, obviously surprised by this turn of events. “The two of them were alone together?”
“Yes,” Phineas retorted as a sick bitterness made his stomach twist into angry knots. “They were talking, without the presence of a chaperone, and I thought nothing of it at first because it seemed Christianna was telling Percy of her affections for me.”
“Oh my,” Phineas’ mother breathed. “So, she already told him how she was feeling?”
“That is what I thought was happening,” Phineas explained, “but before they parted ways, Percy professed his love for her and they…they kissed and….” He broke off without telling the rest. He was so disgusted by the matter that he could not bear to eke out another word.
“I see,” his mother whispered. “So, when Lady Christianna sought to end things with Percival, he would not allow it. He wooed her and made promises that enticed her to stay the course.”
“It seems that way,” Phineas replied cynically.
“That explains a great deal,” his mother said softly.
“What?” Phineas had suspected, or rather hoped, that his mother might show some sympathy for him, so her response puzzled him exceedingly.
“It is nothing, I suppose, but when I spoke with the young lady just a few moments ago, she seemed quite out of sorts—not at all the composed and submissive young woman I was used to encountering,” the dowager explained.
“You mean you have been to see Christianna already this morning? How did she look? What did she say? Did she tell you she was in love with Percy?” The mountain of questions that had piled up in Phineas’ mind throughout the long night toppled out of his mouth as he hounded his mother for answers.
“I just told you, dear,” his mother replied coolly. “I visited with the lady, but she did not seem her usual self. If she had a chance encounter with your brother last night, that would account for the alteration in her demeanour.”
Phineas ground his teeth. “But what were you doing by visiting Lady Christianna? If she really was out with Percy last night having a dalliance, I am surprised she was out of bed already.”
“She was in a state of undress, but capable of holding a conversation,” his mother replied.
“That was a rather artful way to dodge answering my question, Mama. Tell me truly, why did you go to see my lady this morning? Were you thinking of interfering in this affair?” Phineas could see that his words had pinned his mother to the spot. She had been running her hands through the small ruching of her black dress, pressing against the crinkled folds with her fingers, but at this accusation, she stilled.
She gazed back at him. “I have no wish to meddle in your affairs.”
“And yet you did,” Phineas countered, “or at least you attempted to do as much.”
His mother heaved a grievous sigh. “I was only doing my duty as the Dowager Duchess of Bixby. You must remember it is the day before the wedding. I needed to give Lady Christianna the—”
“The ruby necklace?” Phineas was aghast. He stared at his mother for a long moment. “You claim you did not want to get involved, but then you presented Christianna with not only a family heirloom but a token that is likely to take anyone’s breath away. How did you expect her to react when you presented her with such opulence?”
He dropped his gaze away from his mother and stared at the soft grass beneath his feet. There were several errant pebbles, and he kicked them roughly, watching as they skittered toward the water. “How will she ever decide to be with me when I cannot give her such grandiose trappings?”
“Lady Christianna does not strike me as the sort of woman who will care much for material possessions.”
“Oh?” Phineas questioned. “And on what information are you basing that opinion? Did she return the necklace to you? Or perhaps refuse to accept it?”
His mother shook her head minutely. “She did not.”
“Did she seem thrilled by it? Or even ask you to help her put it on promptly?” he pressed.
“She did not behave in a gauche manner, Phineas. She thanked me properly, and we discussed what she intended to do going forward,” his mother said quietly.
“So, you came right out and asked about the affair she was having with me? Mama,” Phineas gave an anguished cry, “how could you do such a thing?”
There was a very long pause as his words hung in the air, and his mother did not keep up their steady bantering. She just stood there, fixed to the spot, almost like one of the Grecian statues, stuck to one place elsewhere in the garden.
“You know,” she said quietly, “things are not always what they seem.”
Phineas turned to look at her once more and saw that her facial expressions were soft and almost dreamy. She stared across the pond, looking at a fixed spot in the distance. He tried to follow her gaze but noticed nothing noteworthy. “Go on,” he urged.
“For so many years,” she whispered, “I thought that it was best to stay the course. Live with the Duke of Bixby. Spend my life with Felton. Have…well, everything.” She shook her head grumpily. “I suppose if others knew the way I behaved, they would censure me abominably. They would say I was cruel and perhaps even manipulative because while I gave off every appearance of being in love with one man, my heart really belonged to another.”
