Devil's Daughter (The Ravenels #5) - Lisa Kleypas Page 0,68
lines on parchment. Dressed in twilled black silk with old-fashioned voluminous skirts piled around her, she resembled a finch huddled in its nest.
“Georgiana,” Phoebe asked softly, almost remorsefully, “Has my redecorating driven you out of the house? I’ve kept my promise not to touch the upstairs floors.”
“I shouldn’t have consented to any changes at all. It no longer resembles the home Henry grew up in.”
“I’m sorry. But as I told you, it’s not good for Justin and Stephen to be raised in dark rooms. They need light and air, and cheerful surroundings.” And so do you, she thought, contemplating the elderly woman’s chalky pallor with concern.
“They should stay in the nursery. The downstairs rooms are for adult company, not romping children.”
“I can’t confine the boys to the nursery. This is their home too.”
“The child of bygone days was seldom seen and never heard. Now it seems a child must be seen and heard everywhere, and at all hours.”
In Georgiana’s opinion, children must be strictly managed and kept within controlled boundaries. To her frustration, she had never been able to corral her own son’s irrepressible spirit or follow the twists and turns of his mind. One of Henry’s first decisions after inheriting the estate had been to turn a formal courtyard into a topiary garden filled with animal shapes. It was undignified, she had complained, and far too expensive to maintain. “You turned an elegant courtyard into something perfectly outlandish,” she had said for years afterward.
“Perfectly outlandish,” Henry had always replied, with great satisfaction.
Phoebe knew the sight of Justin must stir up distant memories for the dowager. He was sturdier and more athletic than Henry had been, with none of the delicacy or shyness. But the impish gleam in his eyes and the sweetness of his smile were the same.
“They’re too noisy, your boys,” Georgiana said bitterly. “All this wild running about and shouting . . . the constant uproar hurts my ears. It hurts.”
Realizing what was causing Georgiana such pain, Phoebe replied gently. “Perhaps staying in a mild seaside climate is a wise idea. All the sun and salt air . . . I think it will be a tonic. Edward said you’re leaving quite soon. Is there something I can do to help?”
“You might start thinking about your sons’ welfare. No man would be a better father to them than Edward. It would be best for everyone if you married him.”
Phoebe blinked and stiffened. “I’m not convinced it would be best for me.”
Georgiana made a flutter with one thin hand, as if waving away a gnat. “Don’t be a child, Phoebe. You’ve reached the time in life when there is more to consider than your own feelings.”
It was perhaps a good thing that Phoebe was temporarily speechless. As she reined in her temper with effort, she reminded herself that of the five children to whom Georgiana had given birth, Henry had been the only one to survive into adulthood, and now he too was gone.
“You needn’t instruct me to think about my children’s welfare,” Phoebe said quietly. “I’ve always put them first, and always will. As for me being a child . . . I’m afraid I’m not nearly enough like one.” A faint smile touched her lips. “Children are optimistic. They have a natural sense of adventure. To them, the world has no limitations, only possibilities. Henry was always a bit childlike in that way—he never became disenchanted with life. That was what I loved most about him.”
“If you loved Henry, you will honor his wishes. He wanted Edward to have charge of his family and estate.”
“Henry wanted to make sure our future would be in capable hands. But it already is.”
“Yes. Edward’s.”
“No, mine. I’ll learn everything I need to know about managing this estate. I’ll hire people to help me if necessary. I’ll have this place thriving. I don’t need a husband to do it for me. If I marry again, it will be to a man of my choosing, in my own time. I can’t promise it will be Edward. I’ve changed during the past two years, but so far, he doesn’t see me for who I am, only who I was. For that matter, he doesn’t see how the world has changed—he ignores the realities he doesn’t like. How can I trust him with our future?”
Georgiana regarded her bitterly. “Edward is not the one who is ignoring reality. How can you imagine yourself capable of running this estate?”