Page 6 of Wedded to the Ruthless Duke

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“Philip, what are you doing here?” Eleanor’s words brought Philip to a halt.

He had barely walked into the ballroom before hearing his sister’s cry of surprise.

“I was invited, same as you,” he said drily. “Perhaps you forget my existence, sister, when we are apart?”

“Don’t be flippant,” she pleaded. “You are late; that is all.”

I had no wish to come; that’s why.

It was with some reluctance that Philip had come tonight at all, but he knew he had to. Eleanor may have been safely married, and even if the gentleman wasn’t particularly to Philip’s liking, he knew she would be looked after, but Philip’s own monetary situation was still a worry.

I’ll have to marry sometime, won’t I? I need to find a dowry.

There had been a time when charming a lady had been a common occurrence though he had kept such acts of charm quiet. Whereas some gentlemen had the reputation of being rakes, Philip’s behavior in such areas was less known.

His reputation was something he protected fiercely as a tiger would guard its cubs.

The notion of charming a woman into marriage though was really rather different and something he was not prepared for, even if he knew it was necessary.

“Have you come to find a spouse of your own?” Eleanor asked with a somewhat knowing smile on her lips.

“Not exactly. I came to check on you and other friends. How are you, sister?” he asked with genuine concern, glancing down at her rounded stomach.

Her humored expression softened into one of love. She placed a hand to her stomach and smiled deeply.

“I am well indeed.”

“Then I am glad to hear it.” He momentarily took her hand and squeezed it tight. A look of understanding and warmth passed between them.

Philip knew that he and Eleanor hadn’t always understood each other completely, but they loved one another, dearly, and it pleased him greatly that these days they were closer than they had been in some time.

“I am even happier tonight for all my friends are here. Even Violet is here with her husband.”

“All your friends?” An image shot into Philip’s head. He saw his hands upon curved hips and the sodden gown of Lady Grace as she stepped out of his pond. The images vanished as quickly as they had appeared.

“Yes, all of them,” she said with a smile. “Well, I won’t hold you up anymore, brother. We can catch up later, but I do not doubt you have come to do the rounds and view the ladies and their dowries…”

“Eleanor, you know I take no pride in being a dowry hunter,” he muttered to her. She arched one eyebrow, somehow knowing this yet dismissing it at the same time.

“Good luck,” she whispered and walked away, one hand on her stomach and another reaching for a glass dish resting on a table nearby that was topped with cake and cream.

Sighing, Philip did as he knew he had to. He circled the room, greeting friends and acquaintances, paying particular attention to any lady who carried herself well with a good turn of her neck or elegant flicks of her fingers when she danced.

Despite it all, no lady left him with any satisfying feeling. Instead, he felt quite stifled from the heat in the room.

He soon left through the open doorway and went out onto the terrace of the garden. Here, to one side, there were gentlemen smoking pipes, and to the other end, a group of ladies had gathered together, all taking the air.

I need a break from conversation.

Ignoring them all, Philip strode out into the garden. Desperate for clear air and quiet, he disappeared between yew bushes, following a gravel path that led deep within the estate. Conversation and music emanating from the ballroom died away, leaving him peaceful and alone at last.

Philip stepped out into a clearing. The rose garden shone brightly in the full moon, each bloom shimmering in delicate dew. Philip was so busy admiring those blooms that it took him a minute to realize that not all was quiet after all.

A lady’s laughter reached his ears. He froze, listening, waiting for it again. The laughter sounded, somewhere off to his left.

I know that sound.

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