Devil's Daughter (The Ravenels #5)(59)

“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?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Women aren’t capable of leadership. 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.”