Page 28 of A Love to Remember
“So I should just give up?” She was full of grief and fury at the same time. “I don’t believe that. I want to help him. He deserves to be happy.Ideserve to be happy. Philip makes me happy.” When he wasn’t making her miserable. “Living with this guilt day after day can’t be healthy, either.”
“True.” Kirkwood watched her through veiled eyes. “What a pity he never got you with child. He’d marry you then, by God, or I’d call him out myself. I might be old but I’m excellent with a rapier or a pistol.”
She tried not to imagine the meeting. Kirkwood would be no match for Philip. “Are you prepared to give me time to see if I can change his mind?”
He inclined his head. “Of course, my dear. Now I understand you want to marry—and your preference is for Cumberland—then I will do everything I can to help you win him.”
Was that a good thing? She eyed him warily. “You won’t interfere, will you?”
His lips curved. “My darling girl. When have I ever interfered?”
“If you thought I would settle down and marry, you’d interfere to hell and back.” The words seemed to pop out of her mouth without her volition, and she flushed.
“Language, my dear,” he scolded, but with a laugh. “Very well. I will give you until next September. If Cumberland hasn’t seen sense by then we shall put our heads together and find a man worthy of you. Now, I must go.” He placed his glass on the table and rose to his feet—still spritely, she noticed, for a man of nine-and-fifty. “You and Drake will spend the New Year celebrations at my estate, of course. I’m planning a rather large house party. I’m sure I can find room for one more name on the list—and ensure he accepts.”
For some reason his kindness made tears prick behind Rose’s eyes. She stood up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, my lord. You really have been most kind to me. More than I deserve.”
His own eyes turned soft and slightly sad. “My darling girl. Your father—God rest his soul—although my friend, was a selfish man. Had I been fortunate enough to have a daughter, I would never have allowed her marriage to Roxborough—or any other man of his age.”
She knew he spoke the truth. “If you’d had a daughter, she would have loved you deeply.”
“Thank you,” he choked out and then cleared his throat. “Goodbye, my dear.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it just as Booth arrived to show him out.
Alone once more, Rose sank into the chaise longue, mind in a whirl.
Philip and Robert. Kirkwood might be completely wrong about Philip’s motives, but it was the first thing she’d heard that made sense.
Suddenly, the idea of fleeing London held no appeal. But she needed help. Whom did she know who could help her understand Philip’s situation? Not Portia. Not a woman. She needed a man’s perspective. Suddenly, her eyes popped open. Of course!Hadley Fullerton, the Duke of Claymore. Hadley’s brother had stepped in front of a bullet meant for him, and Hadley, too, had gone from second son to Duke of Claymore.
She would talk with Hadley and hopefully he would know what to do.
She glanced at the grandfather clock. Yes, there was time to change her mind. She would go to Serena’s dinner, after all. Quickly, she crossed the room to the desk and took out a sheet of paper. When the short note was written and sealed, she rang for Booth.
“See this is delivered to Lady Serena, please, and have my carriage ready at nine.”
He bowed. “Very good, Your Grace.”
She smiled, suddenly eager for the evening. She would spend it watching Philip, perhaps asking a few pertinent questions to see if Kirkwood’s theory held merit. If it did, then she would enlist Hadley’s help and fight for Philip—and herself.
Her smile faded. And itwouldbe a fight. She did not underestimate how hard it would be to make Philip see sense. Guilt was like a coat of armor. She needed to find a weapon that could pierce through it and yet keep Philip whole. After that, she would find out if he truly loved her.
Wouldn’t it be ironic? To help him release his guilt over Robert’s death, only to learn he didn’t truly love her?
But that was for another time. Tonight she wanted to find out only one thing: Was there hope?
Chapter 8
When Philip walked into Christian Trent, Earl of Markham’s, London residence on the night of Lady Serena’s dinner, he was not alone. Portia had told him Rose would not be in attendance, and as he did not wish to face an inquisition from his friends over the end of his affair, he’d brought Lady Philomena as his guest.
The others would hardly grill him if he had another woman in attendance. She would also do well to make up the numbers since Rose’s absence would mean the party would be one female short.
His conscience prickled. Portia had said Rose was packing to return to Cornwall because Drake was unwell. He hoped the lad was not seriously ill. He was very fond of the boy and if the situation had not been so fraught, he would have visited, taking Drake a gift with which to pass his time while he recuperated. He must ask Portia how serious his illness was. If any harm came to her son, Rose would be devastated.
So imagine his horror when, after he and Lady Philomena were announced, he walked into the room to find a dozen dismayed faces and, seated next to Serena and looking so beautiful he almost forgot to breathe, Rose herself.
He was going to wring his sister’s neck because a quick count of the others in the room told him Rose had come on her own. Now he had placed her in a very difficult social position and felt like a complete cad.
The shocked silence did not last long. Serena, ever the gracious hostess, stepped forward to welcome Lady Philomena, and suddenly everyone began talking at once.
