The Tyrant by Patricia Veryan

shoulders sagged then. He said brokenly, “That was very bad of me. Forgive, I beg you, Phoebe, and forget what I said. It is not really so, and was most dishonourable in me to rail at him when he has been so good. Merry’s a—a hard man, but a just one. Only—the thought of my perfect love … given into his keeping!” He swung around, revealing a ravaged countenance. “Phoebe, my darling girl, I am behaving like a proper fool. How much worse it must be for you!”
    Phoebe lowered her eyes, wringing her hands in helpless misery. In a flash he was beside her and had dropped to one knee, his strong grip closing over her agitated hands. “I won’t let it happen, dearest. I swear it! I’ll take you off to the Border, before—”
    â€œElope?” she gasped, horrified. “Brooks! You cannot mean it!”
    He said wildly, “It would be better than seeing you condemned to life with a man you do not love.”
    â€˜It would, indeed,’ she thought, but she put a quieting hand over his lips. “I should not say this, but—I think Carruthers is not—that is, there is a slight hope that he is—er, reluctant.”
    His eyes had narrowed. He searched her face. “Do you say he was pushed into it?” He frowned, then muttered, “Aye, Lucille would, at that.”
    â€œLucille? Do you speak of his mama?”
    He nodded. “A lovely little creature but has known precious little of happiness, poor soul. She is terrified of him.”
    â€œBut—you said—”
    â€œShe can influence him. True. He tries to make amends. And, come to think of it, he never has been much in the petticoat line.” Brightening, he returned to sit beside her once more. “This puts a different light on things. Love, why didn’t you tell me at once, and I’d not have ranted so?”
    She said ruefully, “I should not have told you at all and perhaps raised false hopes. Even now, Lamb, it will have to be handled very carefully. My family is—”
    â€œEcstatic, I do not doubt! Oh yes, I can quite see that!” He scowled, thinking rapidly. “When do you go to the Hall?”
    â€œTomorrow, if Mr. Carruthers gets back from London in time for us to make a start.”
    â€œI see. Look, Phoebe darling, I’m due a leave, for I haven’t had one since I took that wound at Prestonpans. I’ll talk to my colonel. I’m fairly sure he’ll let me go, and I can be in Wiltshire within a day or two, at most.”
    Alarmed, she said, “Oh, Brooks, I wish you will rather give me time to try and work with Mr. Carruthers towards a solution. Besides, where would you stay? I believe his estate is rather isolated.”
    â€œIt is, and I shall stay there, m’dear. Gad, but there’s room enough for me! I’m a member of the family, don’t forget, and Lucille is fond of me—deluded woman!” He grinned whimsically, then his fine eyes clouded. He asked, “Have you told Carruthers you love me?”
    â€œI told him I was fond of another gentleman, but mentioned no names.”
    â€œHmmn. As well. Better to wait a bit. And—what d’you mean, ‘fond’?” He took her in his arms and smiled lovingly down at her. “I will bring you out of this beastly coil and you’ll marry me, if only out of gratitude, and never have to be so menaced again. Only think—this is bad enough, but next time it might be even worse. I heard your papa likes Older-wood.… Only say yes, beloved mine, and I’ll protect you for so long as I live.”
    It was true; Papa and Olderwood were bosom bows. Phoebe shuddered. “Very well, Brooks. If we can break this betrothal, I’ll tell my parents I wish to marry you.”
    â€œAllelulia!” he cried, and kissed her.

III
    Julia Ramsay, at fourteen a younger version of her beautiful sister, gazed at Phoebe with huge, awed