Elise closed the door behind her with a soft click.
Phoebe turned to the sideboard beneath the window, centering her attention on the decanter there. “I believe I have all I need.”
Kiernan opened the door to the bridal chamber. Phoebe wasn't sleeping as she should have been, given the wee hours of the morning. Though, upon first glance, one might have thought she slept, he knew she only lounged. It wasn’t the fact she was still fully dressed that gave away her state, or that only the blonde lock that had come free earlier was the only hair out of place, but more the way she sat on the bed, head back against the pillows propped up behind her. A crystal tumbler sat listed slightly in her lap, yet, her grip on the glass clearly held the object in check. Brandy, by the look of things. Kiernan smiled, the decanter, only a third full, sat on the table beside the bed, near enough to reach without inconveniencing the drinker from her leisure.
“Where are your merry wishers?” Phoebe asked, a slight slur in the word ‘wishers.’
Kiernan stepped inside and closed the door. “Thank you for reminding me.” He bolted the door. “The moment they realize my absence, they'll be upon us.”
Phoebe lifted her head from the pillow and finished her drink with a quick flourish of her hand and a backward jerk of her head. She laid her head back again and, eyes closed, groped with her right hand for the decanter. Finding it, she brought it onto her lap and poured a fair amount of liquid into the tumbler. When trying to place the decanter back on the table, however, she missed, and was forced to open her eyes to keep from dropping it on the floor.
Kiernan crossed to the sideboard and got a glass, then went to the bed and sat down beside her. As he poured a drink, Phoebe opened one eye.
“If you finish that off, Lord Ashlund, I will ask that you fetch another decanter.”
He placed the nearly empty decanter back on the night stand. “What are we drinking to?”
“You won’t like it.”
“Don't tell me you are wishing for my demise already.”
Her eyes shot open. “Fool,” she muttered. “Adam.” The single word was clear, but her hand shook slightly as she downed another swig of her drink.
“Ah, yes.” Kiernan raised his glass. “To Adam.” He saluted and finished his drink in one swallow.
Phoebe lay back, once again, as though dozing.
Kiernan glanced at the decanter, then at her glass. “You’ve been up here for some time,” he commented.
“This is where the bride is supposed to be.”
Kiernan sat his glass on the table. “His death isn’t your fault, Phoebe.”
Her eyes opened and she regarded him. “You don’t know that.”
“You didn’t shoot him.”
“Ohh,” she said, jerking her hand. Brandy sloshed over the rim of her glass onto her hand. “Now, see what you’ve done.” Phoebe transferred her glass to the other hand, then sucked the brandy from her fingers.
“We have more brandy,” he said. “You needn’t worry about a few spilt drops.”
“I’ll worry about anything I please,” she retorted.
“So I see.”
Phoebe halted the sucking and regarded him. “You think I'm foolish for caring about—about—” She stopped, her eyes widening.
“Adam,” Kiernan prodded gently.
Tears abruptly filled her eyes.
“Phoebe.” Kiernan scooted closer to her.
“Oh, go away,” she blubbered.
She shoved at him, tipping over the glass on her lap and spilling brandy on her dress. He rose and Phoebe swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She attempted to brush the liquid from her dress while he hurried to the armoire and returned with several handkerchiefs. He tried dabbing at the liquid but she pushed his hand aside.
“It's too late for that.” Phoebe stood. She swayed, and Kiernan gripped her elbow to steady her. She shook him off. “I'm all right.” But in two steps, she fell straight to her backside.
He pulled her to her feet, then scooped her into his arms. “If you're going to drink, my dear, I suggest you stay in bed.”
“Oh, you’d like that.” She hiccupped. “Wouldn’t you?”
Kiernan laid her on the bed, then sat beside her and rolled her onto her side. He began unbuttoning the row of buttons that went down the back of the dress.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Getting you ready for bed. I’m surprised Elise didn’t help you.”
“Told her not to,” Phoebe replied in the voice of a petulant child. “And I don’t want your help either.”
“You’re going to have a devil of a headache in the morning. Sleeping in this tight gown won't help your mood.”
“My mood is fine.”
“Indeed.” Kiernan finished the last button and turned her onto her back. He brought her to a sitting position and began pulling the long sleeves from off her arms.