Chapter Twenty-two

“Do you have any details of the accident?” James asked the rider. “Are my mother and nephew badly injured?”

The messenger shook his head. “I’m sorry, Colonel. I have no other information. I was dispatched as soon as word arrived that there had been an accident.”

James gritted his teeth. How like Judith to send word without waiting to learn a few essential details. She could just have easily sent the message after she’d discerned if his mother and Toby had broken any bones? Or worse…

The thought sickened him. James flew to action. He turned to the footman. “Have my horse and curricle readied immediately. My wife and I will be leaving within the hour.” Turning on a heel he stalked toward the house, consumed with fear.

 “James? James!” Phoebe grabbed his arm, forcing him to check his stride and face her. Worry etched her brow. “I realize there is no time to waste, but I can’t go back to Corsair with you. You’ll have to go yourself.”

He glanced impatiently toward the house. “Why can’t you go with me?”

She fixed him with an exasperated glare. “If I return to Corsair everyone back home will see my condition.”

 “Would you stop referring to your condition?” he snapped. “You’re pregnant, not a leper, and I for one am perfectly happy that we’re having a child.”

“As am I,” Phoebe said quickly, glancing nervously about as though assuring herself that none of the staff had overheard his declaration. “But situations like ours must be handled delicately. Timing is everything. If we’re not careful the gossip will be insatiable.”

Gossip? His mother and Toby could be dying and she was concerned with gossip? James clenched a fist, mentally striving to check the irritation rising within him. “I don’t give a damn about the gossip or your bloody timing. We leave for Corsair now. Together.”

Phoebe’s eyes narrowed. “I am not one of your soldiers to be ordered about, James. I am your wife, and all I’m asking is for a little understanding.” She hesitated, gaze softening to reveal just how vulnerable she was. “If I bring that sort of shame on my family my brother will never forgive me. It will be best if you simply go alone to check on your mother and Toby. I trust you,” she said quietly.

 Gazing into her wide troubled eyes his frustration faded. He stepped forward, placing his hands on her upper arms. “That means more to me than you could possibly know, but I don’t want to go alone, Phoebe. You are my wife and I want you at my side. If my mother’s injuries are serious then I’d like for her to meet you again and know of her new grandchild.” He dropped his palms to her waist. “You barely show when you wear fuller skirts and not at all when you’re sitting down. You can remain inside and stay camouflaged for a few days.”

She glanced away, nibbling her lower lips, appearing thoroughly unconvinced.

“Phoebe,” he stooped to her eye level, trying to catch her eye. “What did I tell you in Scotland?”

Her gaze flicked to his, a little twinkle lighting in their depths as a sweet, heart-achingly innocent smile pulled at her lips. “That you are my family now.”

“That’s right,” he whispered, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Now will you please come home with me?”

* * * *

The Corsair keep loomed in the distance as James reined in before the Witherspoon house. Phoebe tugged the oversize bonnet further over her brow and forced herself not to look at it. She was a Witherspoon now and may never again be welcome in her childhood home. She swallowed back the despairing thought, desperately reminding herself that she and James had come for much more pressing reasons. She shouldn’t be dwelling on her personal family drama.

James jumped from the carriage, tied the horse beside the stairs, and quickly turned back to lift her bodily from the seat. Grabbing her hand he dragged her up the stairs. Worry deepened the lines of his face, and Phoebe was instantly glad she’d come along. If bad news waited within she wanted to be there for him.

Without knocking on the door, James threw the portal inward and tugged her into the front hall. “Mama!” he called. “Judith?”

A few moments of silence ruled.

“Toby!” Tension thickened his tone.

“Uncle Jamie?” Toby’s small voice returned. A few seconds later the boy careened around a corner at the far end of the hall. A grin of pure excitement split his face.

“Oh, thank God,” James mumbled, releasing Phoebe's hand. He strode forward and dropped to a knee, opening his arms in welcome as Toby sprinted down the hall.

“Uncle Jamie, you’re home!” Toby dashed headlong into James’s waiting arms.

James scooped him up, holding him close. “Come here, my boy.”

The heart-warming scene all but melted Phoebe’s heart. Suddenly she couldn't wait to see him with their child.

After a long moment James held his nephew out in front of him. “You look perfectly well, Toby. Your mama wrote that you and Grandmamma were in a carriage accident.”

The boy sobered slightly. “We were. The wheel broke and the whole carriage tipped over in the ditch.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

Toby shrugged. “Grandmamma sprained her ankle, but the driver jumped off the seat so he is fine too.”

“Thank God,” Phoebe said.

Toby and James glanced back at her in unison. The tension eased from James's face as he stood. He rested a palm on his nephew’s shoulder. “Do you remember Lady Phoebe?” he asked.

“Of course.” Toby turned a beaming smile up to her.

“Well, I took your advice,” James said slowly, tossing Phoebe a wink.”

“Oh?” Toby’s brow furrowed as though trying to remember what bit of advice he may have given his uncle.

“I married her,” James finished.

Toby’s eyes widened in total surprise. “Really? But you said—”

“Married?” the shrill cry pierced the air.

Phoebe startled and her spirits plummeted as Judith appeared at the far end of the hall.

“Y-you got married,” Judith spluttered, face reddening by the second. Her eyes flipped from James to Phoebe. Shock, horror, and mortification darkened in their depths. “To… to her? She’s a Landon.”

Judith's lies from the beginning of the summer rushed to the forefront of Phoebe's memory.  Refusing to be cowed by the bitter woman's acid glare, Phoebe sashayed forward and intimately slipped a hand around James’s bicep. Flashing a sweet smile she lifted her shoulders coquettishly and fluttered her lashes in mock innocence. “Well, not any longer. Now I'm as much a Witherspoon as you are, Judith.”

The other woman's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing more.

James slid an arm around Phoebe's waist and clapped Toby's shoulder with the opposite hand. “Toby, will you lead the way to Grandmamma? I want to share our good news with her as soon as possible.”

The boy needed no further urging and hurried forward. James and Phoebe followed and Judith trailed behind them. Toby led them through the tastefully decorated interior of the house to a brightly lit sitting room. Within Mrs. Witherspoon reclined on a chaise with several books and a pitcher of lemonade on a table beside her. Her left leg was propped up on several pillows.

She glanced up when everyone filed into her room. “James!” The book cradled in her lap clattered to the floor. “You're home!” Her entire countenance lit up when her gaze settled on her son.

“Yes. I came as soon as Judith wrote of your accident.”

Her eyes quickly shifted to Phoebe and her brow furrowed with confusion. “What is all this?”

Trepidation licked Phoebe's spine. What if Mrs. Witherspoon reacted as Judith had? What if she refused to accept her as James's wife simply because she was a Landon?

“Mama,” James began, tugging Phoebe closer to his side, “I'd like to introduce you to my wife.”

“Your wife?” Eyes round as saucers she stared at James expression unreadable. “James, that is wonderful! I just... I never imagined...” She shook her head. “Is this why you left so suddenly after you returned from the continent?”

“It is,” James replied matter-of-factly.

“Why didn't you tell me that you planned to marry?” she asked, obviously exasperated.

James shrugged and glanced down at Phoebe, a sheepish grin on his face. “I wasn't certain the bride would accept me.”

Caught up in James's merriment, Phoebe smiled up at him before sliding a playful glance to his mother. “It took him quite a but of convincing.”

Mrs. Witherspoon winked conspiratorially. “Smart girl.” She reached out and clasped Phoebe's hand warmly. “Lady Phoebe, when you visited me last summer I knew there must have been something between you and my Jamie, but...” she shrugged, “it was too late so I didn't pry. I didn't think I could be any happier than the day he marched up the walk and I learned he was alive, but now... after learning this news... I am more overjoyed than there are words to express. We must have a party and celebrate!”

“Oh, no,” Phoebe blurted. “No parties.”

Everyone looked to her surprised.

“I, um...”

“What Phoebe means,” James interceded smoothly, “is that the duke is less than pleased by our union. We'd like to keep things quite until her brother is more accepting of our marriage.”

Mrs. Witherspoon fixed shrewd eyes on her son. “Do not lie to me James. She's pregnant, isn't she.”

Heat rushed to Phoebe's cheeks. If the fact was this obvious to his mother then all of society would soon know the truth of her transgressions. She hated being subjected to society's cruel scrutiny.

James flashed a roguish grin. He didn't even attempt to appear sheepish. “Is the truth that obvious?”

His mother arched a knowing brow. “When one of the most beautiful, sought after women in all of Britain settles for a man of your ilk it is a likely conclusion for people to draw. All the same, it may be best to ”

Judith scoffed. “That particular circumstance explains a great deal.” She flicked a disdainful gaze the length of Phoebe.

“To be clear,” James said firmly, “I had every intention of marrying Phoebe when I returned from the continent.”

“But would she have married you?” Judith all but sneered.

“In a heartbeat,” Phoebe replied.

“It's of no matter,” Mrs. Witherspoon said with a wave of her hand. “Life has a way of getting ahead of us. There is no shame in it. What is important is that the two of you are together. With a little time and love everything else will fall into place.”

* * * *

Darkness invaded the sky late one evening as Phoebe leaned against the windowsill in the bedchamber she shared with James. Wistfully she gazed through the wavy glass, eyes drawn with magnetic force to the Corsair keep jutting into the starlit sky. Phoebe sighed heavily, and traced the outline of the ancient castle against the window with her finger. In the last four days she’d found wonderful acceptance in the Witherspoon household from everyone accept Judith. Judith seemed to be in a fixed state of bitterness and jealousy no matter what Phoebe did. Phoebe suspected the other woman was lonely. Overall, however, the kindness and acceptance she’d found with the Witherspoons was greatly comforting. Not even a shadow of suspicion existed any longer that James or his mother had knowledge of Patrick’s murder. It saddened her to think her brother may never find peace with the Witherspoon family.

Behind her the door creaked as heavy footfalls entered the room.

With a little smile she turned to find James closing the door and undoing the buttons of his vest. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she said.

“Liar,” he teased, crossing the room, and linking both arms around her middle.

Phoebe laughed. “Excuse me, sir, but what cause do you have to call me a liar?” She leaned her back against his chest, relishing his firm heat.

He shifted so that they both faced through the window. “You weren’t missing me, Siren. You were missing home.”

Bathed in silvery moonlight the Corsair Estate stood out like a beacon, holding her transfixed. “She didn’t even try to deny his statement. “Perhaps I was missing a bit of both.”

James dropped a kiss to her neck. “I know it’s hard for you to be here.”

“Being here isn’t difficult. It’s pretending I’m invisible.” She slid her hands over his. “There are so many people I want to see.”

“Phoebe, you know I’d love nothing more than to march down the street in broad daylight with you on my arm and announce to the world, and corsair, that you are my wife.” He rested his chin on top of her head, curling his arms more securely around her middle. “That being said, I understand that you don’t wish to cast a shadow over your family name so we will continue to handle things delicately, but why don’t we send a note to your brother tomorrow simply letting him know you’re here.”

“He won’t come,” Phoebe replied sadly.

“Perhaps not, but it’s an olive branch. All we can do is keep extending them.”

Wordlessly Phoebe stared at the night-draped landscape, mulling over James’s words. Her husband was proving far more steady and wise than she would have guessed by his roguish reputation. It was no wonder his men loved him if he was as understanding a commander as a husband.

“Have I told you today that I love you,” he whispered, breath breezing over her ear.

Shivers rushed over her skin. The words I love you too stood on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to speak them aloud. While there was no doubt that she loved James, speaking the words aloud would leave her completely exposed. And while the marriage was going well she just wasn’t ready to lay her soul and emotions totally bare. It was all so new, and the wounds left by his abandonment last spring had only begun to heal.

“Phoebe,” he murmured huskily, seemingly oblivious to her inner turmoil. Seductively his strong palms traced the slight curve of her belly and then down her hips. His touch was hypnotic, intoxicating, and as usual banished the insecurities to the recesses of her mind. “You are so perfect.”

Turning in his arms she traced her palms up the toned camber of his chest, giving herself over to the passions coursing through her. James was completely irresistible and for the moment she had no reason to resist him.