Page 3 of A Wallflower's Convenient Duke
Chapter 2
The London manor loomed ahead as Philip Brooks made his way home, his steps weighed down by the remnants of the archaeology lecture that clung to his thoughts. The streets buzzed with the bustling activities of high society, a stark contrast to the intellectual refuge he had briefly found at the lecture.
Upon entering the manor, Philip could feel the weight of societal expectations settling upon him like a stifling cloak. The grandeur of the entrance hall, the polished marble floors, and the echoes of aristocratic chatter painted a scene of privilege that Philip had grown accustomed to but seldom appreciated.
In the parlour, his mother, Lady Brooksdale —Evelyn—, awaited with afternoon tea. She looked up from her book, a genteel smile gracing her features. "Philip, dear, you are just in time for tea. How was the lecture?"
Philip joined her, exchanging the weight of his thoughts for the delicate porcelain cup in his hands. "The lecture was tolerable, Mother," he replied, the weariness in his voice betraying the complexities that lingered beneath his composed exterior. "Mr. Pratt certainly possesses a rather singular perspective."
"I see. So you learned nothing of note?"
Philip offered his mother a one-shouldered shrug. "It is always a pleasure to examine relics, though not all are pieces I should care to add to my own collection."
Lady Evelyn raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "And what of your sister Emily's ball tonight? Shall we be graced with your presence?"
Philip set down his teacup with a beleaguered sigh, his gaze momentarily distant. "Must I attend, Mother? There is little thatcould be more tedious than enduring the silk-gloved sharks of the ton. Especially with Lady Dunn in attendance."
Lady Evelyn's expression softened with understanding. "Philip, you must not let the past dictate your present. Sophia Dunn is but a fleeting presence in our social circles. It is time you look to the future and the possibilities it may hold. Besides, she may not even be there…”
“You know she will. Her husband is a business associate of Emily's husband. There is no conceivable chance she will not be in attendance."
Philip met his mother's gaze, the conflict within him evident. The wounds of heart break and betrayal still festered beneath the surface, and the prospect of facing Lady Sophia, a reminder of a painful past, loomed ahead.
"But your sister will be so terribly upset if you do not attend," his mother reminded him. "She much prefers to have you in attendance at all her events. I am sure that she is already looking forward to seeing you."
"I understand that, but…"
Philip sank into the plush cushions of the parlour chair, the mention of Lady Sophia Dunn hanging heavy in the air. His mother, the dowager duchess, observed him with a discerning gaze, recognising the pain etched across his features. He trailed off mid-sentence, unable to articulate the memories and emotions that Lady Sophia's presence evoked.
With gentle understanding, Lady Evelyn completed his thought, her voice quiet yet perceptive. "It is still difficult for you, is it not, Philip?"
He nodded, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth. The wounds of heartbreak resurfaced with each thought of Sophia, the woman who had left him shattered. The pain was a raw and unhealed ache, a reminder of a love lost.
Would he ever be able to recover from the love that he once lost?
Lady Brooksdale placed a comforting hand on his, offering solace in her touch. "Facing Lady Dunn stirs painful memories, my dear. But you cannot shrink from life forever. It is no way for a man to live."
Philip shook his head, bitterness seeping into his voice. "I would much rather spend the evening poring over the new Greek ceramics I acquired at auction—far more enlightening than navigating the treacherous waters of the ton."
His mother regarded him with a pitying look, a blend of sympathy and concern in her eyes. "And what, pray, shall I tell Emily and Benedict if you refuse to attend?"
Guilt flowed through Philip's veins, but he tried to remain steadfast and strong in his decision. "Mother, if you explain to Emily, she will understand…"
"She understands the importance of family more. She will see your absence as a personal slight."
It might have been a guilt trip, but Philip felt his resolve weakening. The idea of upsetting Emily was a little too much for him.
Reluctantly, he nodded, conceding to the inevitability of the social obligation, because there was no other outcome to this conversation and he knew that all too well. "Very well, Mother. I shall attend—for the sake of family duty."
Lady Brooksdale’s expression softened with relief. "Are you quite certain? We shall all be most pleased if you do."
With a reluctant nod, Philip resigned himself to the demands of societal obligations, mostly because his mother was right; he did not want to let his sister down. The ball awaited, and he would navigate the intricate dance of high society, concealing the vulnerabilities that lingered within. As the tea grew cold and the parlour embraced the hushed ambiance ofunspoken truths, Philip prepared to face the glittering facade of the ton once more.
A palpable relief filled Lady Evelyn's eyes, but she did not stop there. With genuine warmth, she declared, "You have such love to give, Philip. If only you would let your guard down, I know you could open your heart again."
Her words hung in the air, a hopeful plea that sought to penetrate the fortress around his heart. As she squeezed his hand warmly, Lady Evelyn rose to exit the parlour, leaving Philip to grapple with the inner turmoil that threatened to consume him. The prospect of encountering Lady Sophia Dunn at the ball loomed before him, an unwelcome ordeal he was resigned to endure—for the sake of family and duty.
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