Page 35 of Duchess Needed
“Certainly not, Mr Lambert. Everything has been sorted now,” she assured as she handed the papers over to him.
He unwrapped them with efficient hands and studied the pages closely, nodding with approval almost immediately.
“Your work continues to be excellent,” he commended proudly. “How do you manage to continue to yield such good results?”
“I am quite motivated,” Phoebe replied pleasantly.
It was the truth. She was doing this for her siblings, for Rowland to not have to burden himself with trying to ensure that he could provide not just for their household but also for the requirements of Anna’s first season. She did it for Anna too, to ensure that she was comfortable going to events without feeling less than worthy when compared to the other ladies.
While Phoebe had been married, she still needed to continue to support her family. She might have been able to get Anna a dress using the money her husband had given her, but that was not to be a regular occurrence.
Mr Lambert nodded, finding her response acceptable. “Are you ready for the next task?”
Without a shred of hesitation, Phoebe responded with determination,
“I am, sir. And I can guarantee excellent results, as always.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Phoebe arrived at the estate feeling rather worn out.
Between the tea and dress shopping with Anna and the meeting with Mr. Lambert, she felt as though she had exhausted her mental faculties completely. It would be quite nice to simply have the rest of the day to herself — an odd sentiment because she could not recall a time when she had felt tired from merely interacting with others.
The more time passed recently, the more she realized that she was changing. Perhaps Anna had been correct when she pointed that out earlier.
As she entered the foyer of the house, the sound of voices conversing seriously. She frowned when she recognized Arnold's measured tones, and beneath them, another voice — a woman. And for a moment, Phoebe was unsure what she should do. Would it be better to let them resolve whatever the issue was or insert herself as the mistress of house?
Before she could decide, Arnold appeared at the entrance of the drawing room the voices had come from and bowed at the sight of her.
“Your Grace. You have a visitor.”
Phoebe tensed. She had not been expecting anyone and had not recognized the voice she had heard. Cautiously, she approaches the drawing room and walked in after Arnold gave her an encouraging nod.
From behind her, the butler spoke up,
“Your Grace, might I present Lady Barbara Vale, Dowager Countess of Shadborn.”
Phoebe allowed herself to study the elder woman, taking in the elegant posture and self-assured awareness that she exuded confidently. For some reason, her presence made Phoebe feel as though she should be nervous and perhaps she was because the longer she gazed upon the silver haired woman whose sharp eyes assessed her without remorse, the stronger the inkling she might be in trouble grew.
Phoebe recognized the look on the dowager’s face, as she had received several variations of the same all her life. While she had allowed herself to cover then, she would not do the same now.
Especially not in a place that was meant to be her home.
She walked forward without allowing herself any more hesitation and offered the dowager a curtsy that she did her best to execute perfectly.
“Lady Shadborn, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the duchess smiled, keeping her voice warm. “I apologize sincerely for not having been here to welcome you upon your arrival. I hope you have been made comfortable. Shall I have refreshments brought through?”
The dowager regarded her for a moment with thinly veiled irritation.
“Thank you, but no.” Barbara’s voice was cool and empty. “I do not require refreshments.”
She paused and she regarded Phoebe once more with judgement before she remarked,
“Though, I must wonder, why the duchess was not present in her home, and where might be found on a weekday afternoon, so soon into her marriage.”
“Oh, well — my apologies, again. I had an important appointment to keep. If I had known to expect guests, I would have returned much sooner,” Phoebe replied, keeping her voice pleasant and remorseful.
“An appointment.” The dowager repeated the word dryly as her gaze moved briefly to the door, just in time to see a carrying thepretty, brightly colored boxed that contained the dresses she had bought. “I see. Shopping, was it?”
