Devil's Daughter (The Ravenels #5) - Lisa Kleypas Page 0,69
Our intelligence is no less than men’s, but it is shaped for the purpose of motherhood. We’re clever enough to operate the sewing machine, but not to have invented it. If you asked the opinions of a thousand people whether they would trust you or Edward to make decisions for the estate, whom do you think they would choose?”
“I’m not going to ask a thousand people for their opinions,” Phoebe said evenly. “Only one opinion is required, and it happens to be mine.” She went to the doorway and paused, unable to resist adding, “That’s leadership.”
And she left the dowager fuming in silence.
Chapter 21
On the morning of Georgiana’s departure, Phoebe made certain her sons were dressed in their best clothes to see her off in style. Justin wore a pair of black serge short trousers and a linen shirt with a sailor collar, while Stephen was in a linen smock with a matching sailor collar. The three of them waited in the entrance hall with the dowager, while Edward directed a pair of footmen to load the last of the trunks and valises on the carriage waiting outside.
“Grandmother,” Justin said, holding out a gift for her, “This is for you to read on the boat.” It was a book of pictures he’d drawn and painted. Phoebe had stitched the pages together and helped him spell out words to accompany the illustrations. “Stephen can’t draw yet,” Justin continued, “but I traced his hand on one of the pages.” He paused before adding helpfully, “It’s sticky because of the strawberry jam on his fingers.”
Georgiana took the gift and looked into the boy’s sweetly earnest face for a long moment. “You may kiss me good-bye, child,” she said, and bent to receive Justin’s obliging peck on the cheek.
Although Phoebe tried to nudge Stephen forward, he resisted and clung to her skirts. She picked him up and held him on her hip. “I hope your journey abroad will be wonderful, Mother.”
Georgiana gave her a wry glance. “Try not to paint the house pink in my absence.”
Recognizing the attempt at humor as a peace overture, Phoebe smiled. “I won’t.”
She felt Edward’s gentle touch at her elbow. “Good-bye, my dear.”
Turning toward him, Phoebe gave him both her hands. “Safe and happy travels, Edward.”
Lifting her hands, he kissed the backs of them gently. “Don’t hesitate to call on my family if there’s anything you need. They’re anxious to be of service.” He hesitated, looking sheepish. “I forgot the account ledgers again.”
“No need to worry,” Phoebe assured him blandly. “I knew you were busy with preparations for the trip.” She didn’t think it necessary to mention that as soon as he and Georgiana left, she was going to retrieve the books herself.
She took the children out to the front portico, while Edward helped Georgiana into the carriage. The dowager had to have her lap blanket arranged just so. The level of the window curtains had to be adjusted meticulously. An eternity seemed to pass until the team of matched bays finally drew the vehicle away, its iron-rimmed wheels crunching on the graveled drive. Phoebe and Justin waved cheerfully at the departing carriage, while Stephen waggled his fingers. At last, the vehicle passed a copse of trees and disappeared.
Filled with elation, Phoebe lowered Stephen to the ground and spread a flurry of kisses over his face, making him chortle.
Justin crowded against them and received the same treatment, giggling as the storm of kisses engulfed him. “Why are you so happy, Mama?”
“Because now we’re free to do anything we want, with no one to complain or say we can’t.” It was such a relief to have both Edward and Georgiana gone. More than a relief. It was glorious.
“What are we going to do?” Justin asked.
Phoebe smiled into her children’s expectant faces. “Shall we go on a picnic today?”
“Oh, yes, let’s do that!” Justin enthused, and Stephen chimed in, “Mama, picnic!”
“I’ll tell Cook to pack a nice big basket for us. We’ll take Nanny, and Ernestine too. Now, let’s go upstairs, so you can be change out of these stiff clothes into your play suits. I have an errand in town to take care of, and after that we’ll have our picnic lunch in your Papa’s topiary garden.”
To her surprise, Justin wrinkled his nose and asked, “Do we have to have it there?”
“No, but . . . don’t you like the topiaries?”
Justin shook his head. “Nanny says they used to be shaped like animals. But now they all look like turnips.”