How the Marquess Was Won Read Free

consequences of fully surrendering it to anyone, as in her experience, disappearing is what people did.
    Since him none of the young men she met fired her imagination or stirred her heart; none of them—and not once had she thought of this as arrogance, merely as an act of charity—seemed equal to her or worth pledging her life to. She would make none of them happy should she marry them.
    And besides, her destiny lay elsewhere. And she knew that at least one of the letters waiting for her contained her future.
    The bell on the door jangled again and two giggling girls jostled each other for entry and then threw themselves bodily at the door to close it against the wind, then elbowed each other a bit more just for the pure pleasure of it once they got inside. “Oy, you stop it now, Agnes, or I tell you I’ll—”
    They saw Phoebe and went immobile. Their shoulders flew back so swiftly it nearly created a wind, their spines stiffened, their hands folded into neat little knots against their thighs, their eyes widened with doelike innocence.
    They regarded her mutely.
    “Good afternoon, Miss Runyon, Miss Carew,” she said kindly.
    “Good afternoon, Miss Vale!” An angelic chorus.
    “Are you looking forward to your holiday?”
    “Yes, Miss Vale.”
    “And will you be returning home to visit your families or staying on with us at the academy?”
    “Home, Miss Vale.” In harmony, once more.
    “Are you here to buy gifts for your families?”
    “Yes, Miss Vale.”
    Miss Runyon had been accused of being light-fingered, and her harried father had installed her at Miss Marietta Endicott’s academy when she was ten years old.
    Coincidentally, about the same age Phoebe had been when she’d been taken there.
    “I will show you some excellent things, and all can be had for a ha’penny. Buttons and bows and the like,” Mr. Postlethwaite assured them as indulgently as if they were fine ladies, for this was in part what made them behave like ladies, both he and Phoebe knew. She in fact knew how to manage recalcitrant young ladies so well it was almost unfair. Then again, she knew a little bit about being one.
    He emerged from behind the counter and handed the two letters to Phoebe. “Do ’ave a look at the seal of this one, Miss Vale,” he murmured, with an upward wag of his eyebrows.
    He tapped it with one finger and handed it over.
    An elegant and unmistakable R was pressed into red wax.
    Well!
    Curiosity a bonfire, she took herself back to a sunny corner of the shop—she was of course entirely unaffected by the proximity to The Bonnet—after all, one could admire scenery without needing to own it, was that not true?—and slid her finger under the seal while Postlethwaite helped the girls choose gifts.
My dear Miss Vale,
I hope this finds you well and turning young hoydens into young ladies with as much alacrity as always. I apologize for the sudden nature of this message, but I should be delighted if you would join me for two days at Redmond House when I visit, beginning on Saturday. Mama and Papa are in Italy, as you know, and Mama is under the impression that I will not have a suitable friend or chaperone present for the duration of the visit, since my cousin Miss Violet, as you know, has lately become a countess and it is likely she will be in London with her husband. Mama will happily pay you for your time and Aunt Redmond approves. I have a surprise to share with you, too! I will tell you all about it when I see you. Oh, do say you’ll come!
With affection,
Lisbeth Redmond
    Well.
    Well, well, well.
    She’d once been engaged to tutor Lisbeth—niece to Isaiah and Fanchette Redmond, cousin of all the rest of them—in French. Phoebe spoke five languages fluently and was a more than competent teacher, but Lisbeth had been impressively resistant to learning. She preferred to acquire information by simply asking for it. But she was charming enough company. And her two-month stay with Lisbeth was how Phoebe knew