Page 27 of Letters for Phoebe

The uncle in Parliament would not be present, for which she was grateful. There was no one to impress. The Fenwicks had proved most kind the night of the play. And Griffin— he seemed to like her well enough.

Phoebe put her hand over the red-bead bracelet, drawing in a deep breath. She wore an ivory gown and her blue-green shawl, a red ribbon in her hair the only thing which matched her friends’ bracelet. Even if there was no one to impress, she hoped at least one person that evening would think she looked pretty.

“Mr. Kimball, Caroline, it is such a pleasure to have you both with us.” Mrs. Fenwick kissed Caroline upon the cheek after they curtsied and bowed to one another. Then she turned with a wide smile that looked very much like her son’s and extended a hand to Phoebe. “And you, Miss Kimball. I am simply delighted you could come. I so enjoyed getting to know you at the theater.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Phoebe said, then her eyes went to where the older Mr. Fenwick stood. The invitation had said their son would be present, yet he did not greet the guests with his parents?

“Griffin has not yet arrived,” Mr. Fenwick said, and she blushed when she looked back to him. At least he seemed to be telling all three guests, and not just Phoebe. “It is not like him to be late, so I am certain whatever keeps him is pressing.” He gestured to the steps leading to the next floor. “Caroline, permit me to escort you to the parlor. And do tell me how your father is doing, spending all his time in Bath.”

Joseph offered his arm to Mrs. Fenwick, leaving Phoebe to follow behind all of them. She hesitated a moment, feeling somewhat unsettled. The disappointment she felt at Griffin’s absence, even if it was temporary, surprised her.

Phoebe’s hand went to the bannister, and she took her first step upon the stairs, at the same moment the front door opened. Startled, Phoebe turned around with her heart in her throat.

With hat in hand, Griffin entered the house. He had not seen her yet. He handed his things to the footman. “Thank you, Clarkson. Have the other guests arrived?”

“Yes, Mr. Griffin. They have only just gone upstairs, sir.”

“Thank you.”

He turned and saw her. His eyes widened, and his warm smile appeared. In three long strides Griffin was at her side, extending his hand to her. She took it without thinking, and he bowed over her bracelet as though she were a queen.

“Miss Kimball,” he said. “It seems my timing is quite perfect. I have caught you alone.”

Phoebe’s lips parted, and she looked up to see that everyone else had disappeared. Even the footman had gone, leaving her alone in the entry hall with Griffin. She looked back at him, but rather than feel startled at being alone with a man, relief made her laugh. “So you have, sir. If you have anything of a clandestine nature to reveal, now is the time to do so.”

His smile faltered, and Phoebe hastily spoke on. “Not that I think you are a secretive person, Griff—Mr. Fenwick. I only meant to jest.”

His congenial expression returned, though more subdued. “Griff. Hm. I rather like that. Are we acquainted well enough yet that I can insist you call me by that name and nothing else?” His voice was warm, but she could not call it more than friendly.

“Oh, I am afraid we have not known each other nearly long enough. Perhaps in a decade.” She attempted to keep the levity in her tone, though her heart raced. “And only if your wife does not mind.” Phoebe’s heart abruptly stopped, then everything above her shoulders went hot as she blushed. “I did not mean to suggest—that is—”

Griffin laughed, not unkindly, and offered her his arm. “It is only fair you should bungle a word or two, Miss Kimball, given how I have already had my turn at such a mistake.”

Though mortified, Phoebe took his arm. “I am somewhat out of sorts this evening, I suppose.” They started up the stairs, walking more slowly than necessary. Phoebe could not mind when it meant a few more moments to try to understand the man at her side. She did enjoy his company and simply being near him made her heart lighter.

“I am sorry to hear that. I hope you are not troubled by anything serious.” He sounded sincere, and when she looked at him from the side of her eye she saw his brow had drawn down, as though with real concern.

“Not troubled. Distracted, only. But now that you are here to keep me entertained, I will endeavor to be more focused.” She tightened her fingers about his arm a little, hoping to offer him her reassurance.

Griffin’s smile was fleeting. “Entertained. Yes, I suppose I am rather talented at doing that.” They made the landing and went through the open doors to the parlor before Phoebe could think what else to say to restore his cheer.

“Ah, there is Miss Kimball. And look, she has found our missing son.” Mr. Fenwick had a heartiness to him that brought a smile back to his son’s face, and Phoebe’s worry eased. Perhaps Griffin had private matters distracting him, too.

Chapter 11

Revealing Conversation

Though Griffin had looked forward to Phoebe’s company all the day long, her letter had thrown him off balance. To see her thoughts affected enough that she stumbled over her words to him on the stair actually concerned him. While he had attempted to put himself forward as a suitor gradually, with more caution than he normally exercised in any part of his life, he had also managed to create his own rival.

Given what Phoebe had said in her letter, and had implied in her desire to meet her “friend” at last, she had romantic interest in the anonymous writer.

What would she do when she discovered they were one and the same man?

“Mr. Kimball, I do hope you are treating our Caroline well. I must say, she appears even happier now than when you last visited us in Essex.” His mother smiled from her place at one end of the table, fondly taking in Caroline’s blush and grin.

“With good reason, Mrs. Fenwick,” Joseph Kimball said, laying his hand upon his wife’s. They sat most informally that evening, given the friendships between them. He had the same coloring as his sister, but quite a different structure. “Do tell them, my dear. I know you wish to do so.”

Caroline’s blush deepened.