The Reddington Scandal Read Online Free Page B

smile, but something about his eyes looked remote. “I’m sure we’ll come to some arrangement that suits her,” he said, turning his gaze on her and lingering speculatively until she felt her skin prickle with warmth.
     
    * * *
     
    “How is it I never met you before?” he asked Phoebe over dinner.
    “We did meet, once,” she said, looking suddenly shy. “At Lord Reddington’s—a Christmas ball. I came upon the two of you in the corridor.”
    “Oh!” Wynn exclaimed, covering her mouth, and he remembered the moment. It had been two years prior, Wynn’s first London season, and no one had asked her to dance. Seeing she was upset, he’d led her into the corridor where she burst into tears. He had comforted her, offering his shoulder and then a handkerchief, and finally teased and cajoled her into smiles. He’d forgotten until this moment that a pretty young lady had passed them and asked if she could help. It must have been Phoebe.
    “I remember because it was my first ball, and I’d felt like crying too,” she confessed, giving Wynn a sympathetic look. “And I wished I’d had an older brother to tell me all the men were beef-witted.”
    The two ladies laughed and he saw a tinge of pink color Phoebe’s cheeks. Had she found him attractive? The way she stole a look at him from under her lashes said she had. And though blushes and fluttering lashes were so common in his presence he found them insipid, in this case, his blood warmed. She was full of contradictions—one moment self-possessed, intelligent, and mature; in the next, utterly innocent. He felt protective of her innocence, yet at the same time, wanted to unleash the woman he glimpsed underneath it.
    “And why have we not seen you since?” he asked.
    The eyes looked past him at the wall behind his head, as if she were remembering something unpleasant. “Tell us the truth, little dove,” he prodded. “Did Maud keep you in?”
    Her focus snapped to him in surprise. “What makes you say that?”
    “It was Wynn’s assessment, really, but we thought she might not like you outshining her.”
    Phoebe let out one giggle and then another.
    “It’s true, isn’t it?” Wynn demanded.
    Phoebe clutched at her waist, her corset too constricting for her laughter. “I don’t know—perhaps!” she exclaimed, wiping tears from her eyes. “I think perhaps you’re right.” She struggled to regain her composure. “Forgive me, I don’t know what’s come over me. It was just such a surprise to hear your perspective on the matter.”
    Teddy’s plate had been cleared by the servants and he rested his chin on his hand, enjoying Phoebe’s mirth.
    “And what about Lord Reddington?”
    Phoebe’s smile faded and she looked almost sick. “L-lord Reddington?”
    “Did he treat you ill?”
    She seemed to struggle to swallow, her face growing pale. “You know,” she said, standing up abruptly, which caused Teddy to scramble to his feet. “I think I’d like a bath before bed. Do you think it would trouble the servants too much?”
    “Certainly not,” he said, reverting to formality with a slight bow. “I will send them at once.”
    She curtsied. “Thank you, my lord,” she said and swept out of the room.
    He raised one eyebrow at Wynn, who allowed her eyes to grow wide as she nodded, the siblings not requiring words to acknowledge what they’d just seen.
    He retired to his own room, trying to imagine just how life had been for Phoebe with Lord Reddington. He’d paid for her to attend finishing school for several years, so she had not been completely deprived. Yet she had not been allowed out in society much, either, which was odd for a young lady beyond marrying age.
    His valet helped him shrug out of his jacket and waistcoat and was just beginning to remove his cravat when an ear-splitting scream pierced the air, followed by a second, shorter burst of shrieking from a different voice. It was coming from Phoebe’s room.
    Dashing across the room,