Page 42 of A Love to Remember
Portia grabbed the maid’s arm. “It’s nothing serious, is it?” she asked, concern for her friend making her pulse jump and bounce.
The maid smiled. “Oh, no, my lady. From what her lady’s maid was saying, Her Grace was this sick last time she was with child.”
Portia’s world began to skip and slide but for only a moment. Then delicious happiness engulfed her and she hugged her newfound knowledge close.
Rose was with child. It could only be Philip’s.
This was perfect. Now the pigheaded idiot would not be able to walk away. He’d have no choice but to marry Rose and they would live happily ever after.
Portia wanted to go and hug her friend, to laugh, and cry, and plot, and plan together. But it was best to pretend ignorance. Philip should be the first person Rose told.
That thought arrested her. What if Philipalreadyknew and that was why he’d agreed to come? Or what if Kirkwood knew and he’dmadePhilip come?
Surely Philip would be excited about becoming a father?
A small doubt crept into her head. No. She shook the doubt away. No. Philip was a good man. He would absolutely do the honorable thing.
Oh, dear. She would have to keep this secret and she was never very good at keeping secrets. She hoped Rose revealed all soon.
In the meantime, she would pretend that everything was fine, that Rose was in perfect health, and no one—no one—would be more surprised than she when Philip led Rose forward and presented her as his future countess.
Chapter 13
On his return from breakfast, Philip paced his room after a second night of frustration, which burned as bright as his anger. Bloody Tremain had arrived last night. Why Lord Kirkwood allowed his presence here he could not comprehend. But it was Rose he was concerned for. She had not appeared for breakfast for the second morning in a row. Apparently, she was unwell. She had looked very pale and tired the other night and he wanted to see her and assure himself about her state of health.
But Elaine was guarding her like a lioness guarding her cub.
He was not known for his patience but if Rose really wanted to see him, she would have bade Elaine let him enter. He would have to wait. Causing a scene by demanding to see her would not do her reputation any good, and may start rumors that they had reignited their affair.
You could,a little voice on his shoulder urged. He pushed the tantalizing thought away; it was best to leave things as they were.
He sighed and wondered what he would feel when Rose eventually did marry. To watch the only woman he wanted marry another would be a just punishment for causing Robert’s death.
This was going to be a long week, and he still had no idea why he’d come. Perhaps to ensure Rose was not moping but moving on with her life, and to ensure that Tremain didn’t talk Kirkwood into letting him marry Rose. His meeting with Kirkwood yesterday appeased his mind; both men agreed Tremain was not for Rose. Lord Kirkwood was very disappointed in his decision not to offer for Rose, especially when Philip kept his reasons to himself. He decided that once he’d seen Rose and ensured she was not really ill, he would leave.
He’d promised to spend some time with Drake before he did leave. There was to be a treasure hunt today but the weather had turned rather nasty. He looked out the window at the heavy rain falling and realized it was not the day to be outside. Especially if Rose was unwell.
Just then Wilson knocked and entered with his pressed trousers. “Lord Kirkwood’s butler says to inform you the treasure hunt will be held in the house. With over one hundred rooms, it’s almost the same size as the grounds.”
“I thought as much. Not much else to do on a day like today. It’s preferable to charades. Can you imagine Lady Pothers trying to mime?”
Wilson nodded. “I will try and think of a reason to call for you should you ever be stuck playing charades.”
Philip smiled. “I should double your pay, my good man.”
On that jovial note he made his way downstairs to mix with the other guests before the instructions were given out.
He met Portia and Grayson in the hall and together they made their way to the drawing room.
“Have you spoken to Rose this morning?” he asked.
“I popped in briefly. She’s still under the weather. Tired from her journey.”
His sister’s chirpy reply allayed some of his fear. “Are you sure she’s not dangerously ill?”
Portia laughed this time and his fear slipped away. “Why, brother dear, it almost sounds as if you are worried.”
“Of course I’m worried.”
