Siren

Fourteen

Sarah hiccupped. “Th-thank you, Mrs. Withersp-spoon.”

Phoebe’s heart skipped as she beheld James’s mother. She wished she could tell this woman that her son would live on through the child he’d fathered, but she knew such was impossible. With James dead the only choice for the well-being of their baby was to keep absolutely quiet and allow for a discreet adoption to take place. She wanted more for her baby than a bastard’s stigma. As such, she held her emotions safely in check. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss as well, Mrs. Witherspoon.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

The lady behind Mrs. Witherspoon gave Phoebe a withering glare. How odd… Phoebe had no recollection of ever having shared words with the woman.

Shifting her attention back to Sarah, Phoebe secured an arm around her waist. “Come, Sarah, I’ll walk you home.”

Given the new circumstances perhaps Edward would allow Phoebe to postpone her trip to the country a few days more.

*          *          *

“Please, Edward,” Phoebe argued, marching across his study. “Don’t make me go yet. Sarah needs me. She has been in hysterics for two days, and her mother is near her wits end.”

Her brother fixed a cool gaze upon her, dropping into the chair behind his desk. “Sarah will be fine. After all, she had the good sense to marry should she find herself in the motherly way.”

Phoebe tensed, biting her tongue to keep from refuting the insult, and held her brother’s stare. “Be reasonable, Edward. She lost her husband mere weeks after their wedding. Nicholas rode out the day after the ceremony. She needs to be surrounded by those who know and love her.”

He lifted a packet of letters from the desk corner, and began leafing through the modest stack. “I’m not a fool, Phoebe. Stop pretending this is only about Sarah.”

“Excuse me?”

He dropped the letters back to the dark wooden surface. “You are only delaying the inevitable,” Edward responded. “The reality is that every day you spend in this house you risk the chance of someone discovering your condition. Believe me a heartless bastard if you will, but all of this is for you. I have arranged every detail for your protection because I don’t want your life to be ruined by one indiscretion.”

Surprise rendered her completely silent. This was the first time her brother had expressed any measure of understanding instead of disgust and anger.

Edward scrubbed a hand through his dark hair. “Life isn’t fair, Phoebe. I know that. It is perfectly acceptable for men to run amuck and fornicate while women are expected to remain untouched and demure.” He shook his head. “I will not let society judge and crucify you for one mistake.”

“Edward,” she whispered, overcome with emotion. “I didn’t realize. I—”