Page 41 of A Wallflower's Convenient Duke
"Philip, my dear," she began, her words measured and compassionate. "Life is a dance, and we are all granted a finite number of measures. You cannot let the echoes of the past dictate the rhythm of your present. Not when you have such a wonderful wife now."
A soft sigh escaped Philip as he surrendered to the vulnerability of the moment. "I know that you are right, but I have to admit that I am afraid to open up again. I am scared to meet the same fate as I did with Lady Sophia. You cannot deny that things are a little strange with me and Blanche because of how we came together."
Evelyn studied her son for a long moment before speaking. "Philip," she said, her voice both steady and tender, "life does not often afford us the luxury of perfect beginnings. But it does offer second chances, if we have the courage to take them. Do not let the actions of one woman steal your faith in another."
He looked down, the memory of Lady Sophia still casting its old, unwelcome shadow.
Evelyn reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. "Blanche is not Sophia. I see it in her eyes when she looks at you—there is kindness there. Respect. Perhaps somethingmore. You cannot know what this marriage might become if you continue to hold yourself at arm’s length."
Philip's pulse raced. His mother's advice matched Cedric's, which probably meant that it was right. But it was still very unnerving to imagine actually overstepping that boundary and seeing what potentially lay ahead for him.
As if on cue, Evelyn gently nudged Philip in the direction of the dance floor. Among the swirl of elegant gowns, one figure stood out — his wife, radiant in her beauty and adorned with a grace that demanded attention.
He honestly was not sure how he had managed to keep away from Blanche as long as he had.
"Mother, I..." Philip hesitated, his eyes searching hers for guidance.
"Do not let the sins of one person cast a shadow over the happiness you might yet find with another," Evelyn added, her voice a hush, but firm. "You deserve this dance, my dear. And so does she."
Philip followed her gaze.
Blanche, unaware of their conversation, turned at that very moment. Their eyes met across the room.
Her smile, shy but sincere, was like a sunrise breaking across unfamiliar terrain.
And suddenly, the first step did not feel quite so impossible.
