Free Scandalous Innocent by Juliet Landon

followed the usual formula of happy ever after, nor did Mistress Laker appear to be as distressed as she ought. It became obvious that their good intentions had been intrinsically flawed from the start.
    Later, in the cool peace of her bed after the strain of her emotional deception, Phoebe fought back the tears of another kind of heartache that lamented the loss of something she had never had—Sir Leo Hawkynne.

    Her return to Mortlake came as a relief after two days of the high-powered Lauderdales who, although perfect hosts, left her with a feeling of being overfed on flamboyance and flourish, as if there was a competition for the most staggering show of assets. Phoebe was no Puritan, and she could appreciate beauty wherever it showed, but walking into Ham House since the Duchess’s refurbishments was an experience to be taken in small doses. ‘I would not be in the least surprised,’ she told Mrs Overshott, ‘if the Lauderdales don’t find themselves in some kind of financial trouble one of these days. The Duke cannot say no to her, and she cannot say no to herself. You should see the green closet, Molly. You’d never believe it. The entire ceiling and halfway down the walls painted with copies of Caravaggio, and you know the kind of thing he was good at, don’t you?’
    ‘Naked cupids, nymphs and satyrs,’ Mrs Overshott rattled off, twinkling. ‘Did you feel threatened, dear?’
    Chuckling, Phoebe held out her arms to embrace the companion she had left behind, the dear middle-aged handsome lady who smelled faintly of aniseed and mint, who had risked the plague to nurse Phoebe’s parents, yet had survived. Her complexion was pitted with the scars of smallpox, but her brown eyes had never lost their beam of understanding, her awareness of Phoebe’s humours, how-ever well concealed. ‘Threatened?’ said Phoebe, hugging her. ‘No, not by the satyrs.’
    ‘Ah,’ said her companion. ‘Come and tell me all about it over a dish of tea. Was the Lauderdales’ tea gilded, too?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Phoebe, giggling. Together they passed from the panelled hallway into the tapestry-lined dining room that glowed with the soft mellow tones of apricot and dusty blue, burnt orange and ochre. ‘But you must not think I disapprove, Molly. For the Lauderdales, it’s a perfect setting, grand, loud, showy, spacious. The—’
    ‘Who was there? The Duke, I take it?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Ah,’ said her companion again. ‘Perhaps I should have been with you, then.’
    Phoebe had never concealed any of her concerns from Mrs Overshott, for she had a way of listening that made the sharing of confidences not only easy but valuable too. So Phoebe sipped her tea and rudely dunked her biscuit while telling of the fiasco at Ham House, which she felt sure had placed her lower in Sir Leo’s estimation than she was before. ‘If I’d not been so furious with him, I would never have agreed to such a charade. I suppose it serves me right for planning a revenge. It backfired, didn’t it?’
    ‘Easy to be wise after the event. But his actions in your room suggest to me that he must hold you in affection, Phoebe, whatever his sudden coldness means.’
    ‘I cannot believe that,’ Phoebe whispered, turning the little tea-dish round to study its pattern. ‘He was all fired up, like me, and probably still angry, and you know what men are like when they’ve won something, don’t you?’
    ‘Yes. It may be no more than an overflow of energy, Phoebe, but I cannot believe that a man like Sir Leo would have gone as far as he did unless he meant to place you under his ownership. He may have a reputation with women, but he would not dishonour a woman, a guest in his employer’s house. He must have meant something by it.’
    ‘But he couldn’t wait to shake me off, Molly, after that.’
    ‘And then he gave you a good dressing-down, which he need not have bothered to do unless he wanted you to know the reason. I think you’ve misread the