Lady in Demand by Wendy Vella Page A

conversation. Although if she was being truthful it was rather lovely having this elderly gentleman hold her hand in his large one, if only for a short while. It was comforting after her encounter with Lord Levermarch.
    “Poor Lord Levermarch is dancing with that horrid Lady Croxley, Phoebe.”
    Hannah’s whispered words had Phoebe looking to the dance floor, where she saw Finn and his future wife lining up for a cotillion. She had the foolish urge to stomp over there and yell at him, ask him how he could kiss her one minute and dance with that vile person the next. Yet perhaps they deserved each other, because didn’t she believe him a horrid person, too? Turning away, she entered the supper room where a few other guests sat to eat and gossip. She did not want to think about that man anymore. He was beginning to take up far too many of her thoughts.  
    Two long tables heaved under a multitude of tempting delights. Footmen stood at the ready, silently awaiting a command or gesture.
          “There,” Lord Wooller said, pointing to a delicious looking cake. “Try the strawberry cake, and if you don’t start to hum appreciatively you have no soul,” he added, now placing a hand on their backs and pushing them across the room before him. Once there, he picked up a slice of cake.
          “Those éclairs look nice though, don’t you think, Woolly?”
          “No comparison, Phoebe, and you’ll be hard pressed to make me believe otherwise.”
          Phoebe laughed as he took a bite of the cake and closed his eye while making a loud humming noise. Beside him, Hannah was doing the same. Phoebe wasn’t a person to collect friends; she didn’t let many people get close to her, yet she thought in the case of these two people she would make an exception.  
          “I thought we discussed your need to slow down on the sweet foods, Woolly?
          Phoebe’s smile fled as Lord Levermarch walked into the room. Why was he here and not with his future viscountess?   He saw her then, and his steps hesitated briefly before walking to Lord Wooller’s side. Phoebe turned her back on him and walked around the table to pick up an éclair. Taking a bite, she tried to focus on the pastry and cream as it filled her mouth; however, it tasted suddenly like she’d swallowed a handful of mud.
          “Damn it, Phoebe, that better not be the last one!”
          She took her time chewing and then made herself smile at Will as he and Livvy walked into the room. He dropped his wife’s arm as he looked at the now empty plate.  
          “Oh sorry, Will. I didn’t see you walk in or I would have left it for you.” Phoebe took another large bite and looked anything but contrite. Her family was now here. She need not have anything further to do with Lord Levermarch.  
          “Witch!” Will hissed, reaching for a macaroon.
          “Woolly, what are you doing with that piece of cake in your mouth?” Will then snarled with his mouth full which was very un-Will like. In fact, Phoebe thought the entire situation was peculiar. Lord Levermarch was now bantering with Lord Wooller, along with Will as if they were firm friends. Were they?  
          “Ah, Ryder, come and try this strawberry cake, simply superb.”
          “I’d wanted an éclair but will settle for strawberry cake,” he said, baring his teeth at Phoebe, she retaliated by poking out her tongue which made him laugh.
    “Here, you have something on your lips.”
    Phoebe looked at the handkerchief Lord Levermarch handed her, but instead reached into her reticule and pulled out her own.
          His eyes held hers as she wiped her mouth, and Phoebe suddenly had great difficulty breathing. It was almost as if some restriction was blocking her airways.  
          “And how was your dance with Lady Croxley, my lord? Does she fulfill all the requirements on your list? I must say that you look