hat. He was starting to find a certain rhythm, a pattern to his days; he was actively searching for it, constructing it. During the mornings he generally left Phoebe to her visits with Edith; it was essential for her to maintain her position as Edith’s “shadow,” always there, always listening, learning, quietly questioning. She often returned from those visits with information on households and possible positions for the agency’s clients. Over those morning hours, he took care of any estate business, looked in on Montague, and dealt with any business matters requiring his attention.
In the afternoons, he usually dropped by the agency; by the time he’d chatted with Birtles and learned from Emmeline about the day’s developments, Phoebe would have finished her afternoon visits and would join them. The next hour or so would be spent on agency business. His background enabled him to offer novel solutions to some of the problems; every such instance sent a glow of satisfaction through him, somewhat to his surprise.
But it felt good. His association with Phoebe’s agency was bringing him a return he hadn’t expected. He was increasingly grateful to them—especially Phoebe—for accepting his services, for allowing him into their circle.
His wandering thoughts drifted over the past day, one not so routine. Lady Castlereagh had hosted a picnic at the family’s estate in Surrey; Edith had declared she would be too tired by the drive, so he’d driven Phoebe down in his curricle and spent the day at her side. His appearance in that position had further fueled speculation, but of that Phoebe thankfully continued to be oblivious. She’d remained focused on her goals—keeping her ears open for possible positions—and in that, he’d seen a chance to assist.
Leonora, Countess Trentham, had been present, along with Trentham’s redoubtable great-aunts. Recalling that his fellow Bastion Club member and his wife accommodated a startlingly large number of older ladies in their various households, he introduced Phoebe and stood back.
Until her marriage, Leonora hadn’t spent much time in the ton; she and Phoebe hadn’t previously met. He wasn’t, however, the least bit surprised when they seemed to recognize each other as kindred spirits. By the time he and Phoebe parted from Leonora, the women were well on their way to becoming firm friends. Leonora, by no means blind, had invited Phoebe to call, and there had already been mention of the Athena Agency.
While the ladies had chatted, he’d considered the network of households, of wives and their friends, that courtesy of their marriages the Bastion Club members were creating. And those members and their wives he would trust with his life—and also, therefore, the secret of the Athena Agency.
There was a possibility there for expanding the agency’s work, but that was a prospect for the future, for after he’d made the speculation in Leonora’s and so many other ladies’ eyes a reality.
He dwelled on the vision—Phoebe as his wife. Soon; the time for broaching that issue was not yet, but approaching. Just as well.
Aside from all else, there was the not-so-minor detail that he couldn’t—wouldn’t—willingly sleep anywhere but beside her. Some nights ago when Phoebe had sent a note that Edith had been too tired by their day’s outing to Richmond to attend any evening entertainments, he’d grasped the opportunity to drop by the gentlemen’s clubs, simply to show his face and hear any story doing the rounds; afterward, he’d decided it was too late to disturb Phoebe.
Instead, he’d spent a hellish night in his previously perfectly comfortable bed at the club. Time and again, on the brink of sleep or just beyond, he’d reached for Phoebe and she hadn’t been there.
He’d barely slept a wink. At some deeper level, his nerves—or was it his emotions?—had felt abraded.
He wasn’t interested in repeating the experience. It had been unsettling to realize how important she’d become to him; that was an aspect, something he knew was a growing and burgeoning aspect, of his wooing of her that he hadn’t foreseen but saw little benefit in dwelling too much upon.
Once she was his wife, that unexpected and unsettling craving would be satisfied, so all he needed to concentrate on was marrying her and the rest would take care of itself.
Fixing his mind on that goal, he turned and slid his arms around her, curled about her, and let his dreams claim him.
The next evening he joined Phoebe at Lady Walker’s ball. Audrey was present, too; she sat beside Edith, her sharp eyes narrowed, studying him as he bowed, chatted to Edith, then moved on to take Phoebe’s hand.
Sincerely hoping his aunt would keep her questions—on his imminent nuptials, he had not a doubt—to herself, he raised Phoebe’s hand to his lips, kissed, then looked over the sea of heads as the musicians struck up.
“How useful—a waltz.” He caught Phoebe’s eyes. “Shall we?”
She smiled and assented, allowing him to lead her to the floor. Buoyed by the clear expectation in her eyes, he swung her into his arms and swept her into the swirling throng.
He waited until they’d completed their first circuit, until she’d all but sighed and relaxed in his arms, before asking, “How’s our latest special client?”
“She’s recovering well.” Phoebe met his green eyes; she still found it astonishing to be discussing such matters with him. “From what she’s told us, we got her away just in time.”
They’d run another rescue three nights before; Deverell had watched over the proceedings more or less over her shoulder the whole time, but all had gone well, exactly as planned.
A slight frown darkened his green eyes. “Emmeline mentioned there might be two other outings in the offing. Are there always that many?”
That many female staff needing rescue from their masters.
“Yes, and no. This is the busiest time of year for it.”
His frown grew more puzzled. “Why? Just because it’s the Season?”
“No—it’s because of what happens at the end of the Season. It’s almost May. By June the ton starts to remove to the country, so for female staff feeling under threat, the choice is to escape now or risk being trapped on some country estate where the man involved will have even more time on his hands and the houses are bigger.”
She paused while he whirled her around the end of the room; once they were heading back up it, she added, “And in terms of finding another position, now is the time. The ton in particular does little to no hiring during summer—ladies tend to wait until they’re back in town.”
He raised his brows. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.” After a moment, he refocused on her eyes. “So how many are you expecting?”
She lightly shrugged. “All I can be sure of is that there will be more.”