Page 30 of A Wallflower's Convenient Duke
Chapter 14
The cloud of unease over the missing antiquities continued to linger in Blanche's mind, casting shadows over the grandeur of Brooksdale Manor. Yet, amidst the persistent worry, a welcome reprieve arrived in the form of an unexpected invitation.
"I am to attend a private lecture this afternoon,” Philip announced, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Mr. Pratt is to speak—on what, I am not certain, but it promises to be a most engaging subject. I thought perhaps… you might like to accompany me.”
Blanche looked up from the page she had been pretending to read, her expression brightening with genuine interest. “I should like that very much. I shall dress right away so I am ready."
As she ascended the staircase, Blanche realised that she had first spotted Philip at a lecture by Mr. Pratt. Of course, she had not known much about him at the time, and of course, she had no idea that he would end up being her husband, but she had been intrigued by him. She thought him handsome and interesting. She yearned for a chance to exchange ideas with him.
Now she could talk to him whenever she wanted, about whatever she wanted.
How strange life was.
Blanche dressed quickly, selecting a soft lavender gown that brought a delicate warmth to her complexion. She hesitated briefly before choosing a silver necklace simple, but elegant. Not for the ton, not for appearances, but for him. It pleased her, more than she cared to admit, when Philip admired her.
As she descended the staircase, the gown flowing like water about her feet, she found him waiting in the foyer. He turnedat the sound of her approach, and his expression softened into something that caught her breath.
"You look absolutely enchanting," Philip remarked, his eyes lighting up with admiration.
Blanche felt colour rise to her cheeks. “Thank you,” she replied, “I am looking forward to the lecture. What do you think Mr. Pratt will discuss today? Has he given a subject matter for his lecture?"
Philip chuckled, offering his arm. “With Mr. Pratt, the subject is often a mystery until the moment he begins. But whether it’s ancient burial customs or the pottery shards of forgotten tribes, he has a gift for making it all rather enthralling. I am sure we shall be in for an enlightening afternoon. I will be glad to have you with me as we learn. It is always exciting to have someone to talk to afterwards about everything."
"Yes, I agree." Blanche beamed from ear to ear. "That is one of my favourite things to do also."
Together they stepped into the waiting carriage, the quiet rhythm of hooves on cobblestone accompanying their shared anticipation.
As the manor faded behind them, Blanche leaned back and looked out the window, her thoughts adrift. She had once stood in that same hall, an unmarried woman nursing private curiosities about a stranger at a lecture. Now, she sat beside that very man, on their way to share an afternoon of learning and conversation.
How swiftly life could change.
And for the first time in many days, the weight of missing heirlooms and whispered doubts slipped from her shoulders, replaced by something quieter, but warmer: the sense that perhaps, just perhaps, she and Philip were beginning to find their way toward one another.
***
The lecture hall was abuzz with quiet anticipation, the low murmur of scholarly conversation echoing off panelled walls and vaulted ceilings. Blanche and Philip took their seats amidst the gathered assembly gentlemen in tailored coats, ladies fanning themselves softly, all drawn by the promise of Mr. Pratt’s erudition.
The air held the pleasant tension of minds eager to be stirred.
When Mr. Pratt finally stepped onto the modest platform, the hall fell silent. With eloquence and ease, he began to speak—transporting his audience through distant lands and vanished eras, unravelling the fates of long-forgotten empires with the finesse of a master storyteller.
Blanche leaned forward slightly, eyes alight, her mind momentarily freed from the lingering shadow of the missing antiquities. She was drawn in wholly—every word, every image conjured, pulling her deeper into the enchanting web of ancient wonders.
During the intermission, as the room filled once more with soft conversation and rustling notes, Philip turned toward her, a light in his gaze.
“It is quite something, is it not?” he said, his voice low, intimate. “I am very glad we chose to come together.”
Blanche glanced over; her smile genuine. “It truly is captivating. I had not realised how much I needed this... Thank you, Philip. These moments with you—they are a welcome escape.”
He gave a small nod, his expression softening in that rare way it sometimes did—reserved only for her.
As the second half commenced, the lecture delved deeper into the intricacies of archaeological methods and the delicatedance between discovery and preservation. Blanche and Philip exchanged the occasional glance—an unspoken recognition of shared fascination, and perhaps, something more.
Gone was the stiffness of titles, the weight of courtly obligation. Here, in this hallowed hall of learning, they were not duke and duchess, but simply two curious minds finding common ground.
When Mr. Pratt opened the floor for questions, a brief hush fell over the hall. Blanche hesitated, then raised her hand, pulse-quickening with both nervousness and resolve.
Philip turned to her with a look of quiet encouragement—there was pride in his eyes, and warmth.
