Page 56 of A Lady Most Wayward
‘Please, come in and sit.’ He stepped back, making room for her in his cluttered office.
She sniffed, looking for a clear surface. The desk was littered with papers. Several books were stacked haphazardly on the floor next to his seat. The hardback chair reserved for visitors held a leather satchel with its contents spilling onto the floor, a discarded scarf, and what looked to be the remains of half a pickle and pork sandwich wrapped in wax paper.
‘I think I shall stand.’ Philippa raised a brow and looked pointedly at the chair.
Edward’s cheeks flushed red. He rushed to the seat, swiped the satchel and scarf off, and looked around for a place to put them, apparently deciding the overburdened bookshelf was his best option. He crammed both items into a convenient opening on the third shelf between a dusty tome on ancient Roman government and some medical treatise on death and decay.
Delightful.
Philippa picked up the sandwich by the wrapper. ‘Saving this for afternoon tea?’ She knew her tone was sharper than a sabre, but battling with Edward was so much easier than being vulnerable.
Edward snatched the sandwich and plunked it on top of a ledger on his desk. ‘To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’ His emphasis on ‘unexpected’ was not lost on Philippa.
Exhaling a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, Philippa felt her protective layer of pride deflate right along with her false bravado. ‘Am I terrible, Edward?’ She forced the words out before she could think about what she was revealing. The Duchess of Dorsett, confidante of the Queen, femme fatale, fiercely independent warrior, was actually full of self-doubt. It was beyond the pale and hardly something she wanted to admit.
Sinking onto the chair, Philippa couldn’t look her oldest friend in the eyes for fear of what he might see there.
Edward crouched next to her, gathering her hands in his and squeezing. ‘No. You are the very opposite. What’s brought this on?’
‘I’m forgetting her. How can I forget her?’ She didn’t have to speak Liza’s name. She knew Edward would understand. Which is why she came to him and not one of the other women. Because of their shared grief. He was the only other person alive who knew Liza, loved Liza, and had lost Liza.
The tears came unbidden as Philippa tried to swallow the panic and pain. Edward leaned forward, pulled Philippa into an awkward hug, and to her horror, she clung to him like a child as her body shook with silent sobs. They stayed that way until she was able to slow her breathing and ease her grip on his coat sleeves.
Edward leaned back, searching in his pocket for a handkerchief. He found it, and while it was terribly wrinkled, it was also clean. Philippa dabbed at her face. She must look a total fright. Pressing her lips together, she tried to gather her thoughts as Edward waited patiently.
‘I used to think about her all the time. For years and years, I would wake with her name on my lips and sleep with her face haunting my dreams. But it’s all changing; it feels like she’s disappearing, and I don’t know how to keep her here.’ She thumped her chest with her fist.
Edward took a measured breath. She knew he was trying to weigh his words so as not to upset her.
‘Just say what you need to say, Edward. We are past being careful with one another.’
Shaking his head, Edward’s lips twitched in a wry smile. ‘One is always careful with a woman as dangerous as you, Philippa. But fine. I will speak plainly.’
‘Please.’ Philippa nodded.
‘It is not for you to keep her trapped in your heart, nor should you stay entombed in your memories of her.’
Anger swept in, a complement to her pain. ‘I haven’t trapped her there.’
Edward’s jaw hardened. ‘You have. And you’ve buried yourself away with her, shutting down any chance for new life. New growth. New love. Because you know the pain of loving someone with every part of your being and then losing them, and you are too scared to face that possibility again.’
He’s right. Damn him to the Devil, he’s right and he knows it. Smug bastard.
Philippa blinked, swallowed, then tapped a finger against the arm of the chair. ‘I am not scared.’ But she was. ‘And there is no shame in protecting yourself.’
Edward shook his head. ‘No. But there is also no chance of happiness when protecting yourself also means living in isolation. You aren’t forgetting Liza. It’s not possible. You are just letting her go, Philippa.’
Fear washed through her. ‘But I don’twantto let her go.’
A dry chuckle escaped as Edward reclaimed Philippa’s hand and squeezed gently. ‘No. Because keeping her is a convenient excuse to stay safe within your grief. But you have never been a coward, Philippa. Letting Liza go is scary, yes. But it isn’t a bad thing, and it certainly doesn’t make you a terrible person. It’s necessary. Because she isn’t here any more.’ His voice broke and hearing his pain helped her to acknowledge her own. ‘You are holding onto a memory that has you frozen in the past. And it’s time to step into your present. She would want that for you.’
Philippa shook her head, rejecting his words even as they resonated in her heart. ‘What if I can’t?’
Edward rocked back on his heels. His handsome face broke into a smile. ‘Is there anything the Duchess of Dorsett cannot do? Surely not.’
‘The duchess isn’t real, Edward.’
He brushed a tear from her cheek that she’d missed. His dark eyes burned with fierce emotion. Love. Respect. Empathy. ‘No. But Philippa is real, and she has never let fear of the unknown stop her. I didn’t think I deserved love after what I did to you and Liza. But I was wrong, and Ivy is the greatest blessing in my life. I know this is a novel experience for you, Philippa, but you are also wrong.’
