Page 62 of A Lady Most Wayward
Philippa rubbed her finger against her thumb. The duchess was irritated, no doubt because she had been caught expressing something she didn’t want anyone else to see.
Good. I’m glad.
Looking at each member of the table, Philippa’s blue eyes flashed in the candlelight, but she said nothing.
‘Shall we call in the dessert course?’ Hannah asked brightly. The woman who was once Philippa’s ward no doubt knew her patroness better than most at the table. What did she think of Philippa’s slip? Not that it mattered.
Olivia stood first. ‘I suddenly feel ill. Probably the stress of the day. Thank you all for such a lovely evening, but I must retire.’ She refused to even look at Philippa as the rest of the party expressed their hope that she would feel better and wished her a good night. Olivia held her head high as she exited the dining room, took the stairs to the family bedrooms, and walked down the hall, opening her door and closing it softly behind her. Only then did she let the tears fall as she slumped against the wall, a doll who had lost her stuffing.
‘Stupid, bloody fool!’ But she didn’t know if she was talking about herself or Philippa. Most likely, both of them.
Her maid came a few minutes later with a pot of willow bark tea. ‘Her Grace asked me to bring this to you.’
Olivia wished ‘Her Grace’ had come with the tea herself so Olivia might throw the concoction back in Philippa’s face. But she could hardly subject the innocent maid to such a tirade.
‘I don’t need any tea. Thank you.’
The young woman’s eyes softened. ‘Of course, Lady Smithwick. I hope it’s not out of turn for me to say, but we’re all so glad you’re here.’
Her kindness was too much. Tears threatened once more as Olivia’s throat ached. ‘Thank you.’
The maid bustled around, lighting the fire, pulling back Olivia’s bed. She helped her remove her evening gown, take down her hair, brush and braid the thick curls, and slip into a voluminous nightgown that made Olivia feel like a little girl. Thanking the maid, she dismissed her for the evening, scrubbed her teeth with powder of charcoal and baking soda, blew out the candle, and climbed into bed. The faint sounds of voices below reminded her that Philippa was still entertaining her guests. A group of people who were closer to family than just mere friends.
But not my family. They are hers. And when I leave, they will still be here to surround her with love and support. And I will be alone once more.
Feeling sorry for herself never accomplished anything, so Olivia only allowed a few tears to fall before she sniffed and snuggled deeper into her covers.
If they were able to defeat her brother, she wouldn’t need to leave the continent, but she certainly had no wish to stay in London. Attending balls and watching Philippa from afar like a lovesick fool held no appeal. When her husband died, he had left her a dowager house in Covington. She could take Hyacinth there and spend her days in bucolic fields of grazing sheep, nursing her broken heart in privacy.
Dear lord, I’m dramatic. Perhaps I shall write some epic verse or Gothic novels to while away my time.
It didn’t matter. She would have Hyacinth and her freedom. It was far more than most women ever received, and it would need to be enough. Damn her heart for being so greedy as to want everything.
She drifted to sleep and dreamed of striding along grassy fields. But in her dreams, she wasn’t alone. A dark-haired figure walked with her, their hands clasped. Their skirts tangling together in the wind.
* * *
‘It would seem this mission has brought you and Olivia together. I’m so glad you were able to get over your dislike of her.’ Hannah sat next to Philippa as they transitioned from the dining room into the parlour. She spoke loud enough for the group to hear, and Philippa tightened her hand into a fist and reminded herself of all the reasons it was wrong to punch one’s friend in the face, unless they were sparring, of course. Thankfully, young Callum had excused himself, so at least he would not be privy to the conversation.
‘I didn’t dislike her. I just didn’t trust her. And for good reason, might I add.’ Philippa endeavoured to keep her voice calm.
‘But you trust her now?’ Ivy asked, her crystal-blue gaze pinning Philippa to the cushions in a look Philippa was excellent at giving herself. She was less enthusiastic about being the recipient.
‘I believe her motives were inspired by love for her daughter and fear she might lose her. She may have acted less than honourably, but her intentions were pure.’ Indeed, Philippa more than trusted Olivia. She respected her. Liked her. Loved her. But that was hardly the business of her inquisitive friends.
‘When our loved ones are threatened, we are all willing to do things we normally wouldn’t.’ Drake leaned against the mantel, a whiskey in his large hand. ‘There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect Millie.’
‘Nor I you, my love.’ Millie winked at her husband.
‘It brings about an interesting point. I think we all agree that love allows us to do things we otherwise might not be capable of achieving. It makes us stronger. I know on the battlefield, those who fought for love of their land and people were far fiercer than paid mercenaries.’ Killian spoke to the group, but his sharp gaze stayed on Philippa.
‘Absolutely,’ Liam readily agreed as Philippa imagined all the ways she could torture her friends, one after the other. Because they were certainly torturing her. The duchess, whose opinion on romantic love had always been rather dim, was being forced to admit her folly. There wasn’t one person in this room she hadn’t advised to stay away from the trap of love.
They are enjoying this. Damn them.
‘People often think loving someone makes them more vulnerable to attack, but Penny protects me just as much as I protect her. I’d wager I’m far safer with her by my side in any battle than the most skilled fighter. Because I trust her and know she trusts me irrevocably.’
‘Who’s to say I’m not the most skilled fighter?’ Penny raised a brow at her husband before slipping her hand into his. ‘There’s no one I’d rather stand next to against any foe. Even if I’m only armed with an apple.’
