Page 37 of A Lady Most Wayward
Stepping back, Philippa broke all physical contact with Olivia. Grief darkened her eyes further, anger flamed bright, and desire still blew her pupils wide. How she held so much within her without letting any of it spill forth was a mystery to Olivia.
‘What about Liza?’ She spoke each word like a slap.
‘You love her. How can you spend tonight with me and still hold true to your promise to her?’
‘Must you be so cruel?’ Philippa’s voice was a dark rasp.
Olivia swallowed. Horrifically, tears threatened as she struggled to set her dress back to rights. ‘I am not trying to be cruel. I’m trying to protect us. Both of us. I want you so much my bones ache. But I won’t take what you are offering until I know I’m not also crushing a piece of your soul by having it. Can you tell me honestly that you won’t loathe me tomorrow for what we do here tonight? That you won’t also hate yourself?’
Philippa valued honesty, honour, and loyalty. She would never forgive herself if she believed this night with Olivia was a betrayal of her dedication to Liza. And she would never forgive Olivia. She didn’t expect to win the duchess’ undying love, or even her tacit approval, but she would like to part as something more than mortal enemies.
‘I already inspire your ire just by existing. How much more will your hatred grow if you fear you’ve betrayed your love to spend a night with me? I can accept that you dislike me, but I won’t be the reason you despise yourself.’
Because she didn’t want anything, even the memory of Philippa’s lost love, to poison what could be a beautiful experience between them.
Philippa rubbed her thumb and index finger together in an endless circle. ‘Don’t presume to understand me, Marchioness.’
‘Don’t pretend I’m not right in this, Duchess.’
And we’re back to titles. What did I expect?
Nothing more than this. But her heart squeezed painfully in her chest because she had hoped for more.
Turning, Philippa walked to the door. Before she could turn the handle, Olivia lunged forward, grabbing her arm and spinning her back. ‘Where are you going?’
Wrenching her arm free, Philippa’s nostrils flared and her eyes hardened. ‘Out. You are so desperate for freedom. Well. You have it. Keep your name. I shall find the Crow on my own. I work best that way. Seek your bed, Marchioness. You and your daughter have travel arrangements to make on the morrow. And I have a devil to hunt.’
This time, when Philippa opened the door, Olivia let her go. Yet again, she had no other choice.
* * *
A wild wind kicked up as Philippa followed the trail they took earlier in the day. It pulled her hair free, tossing it around her shoulders in disarray, tugging at her skirts and tangling them between her legs. Artemis’ moon battled with the clouds, providing Philippa with enough light to navigate the uneven terrain. She revelled in the violent weather. It called to a feral part of her soul, clawing to be free.
‘How dare she?’ Philippa raged, her words swept away in the howl of the wind. A howl that echoed the grief in her soul. ‘Accusing me of disloyalty.’
But she didn’t. She accused me of hating myself. And she’s right. Damn her.
‘The unmitigated gall! For her to think she knows me. Knows my love for Liza,’ she fumed.
But she does. And she knows I blame myself for Liza’s death as much as I blame Liza. Because I couldn’t save her. Not from her father. Not from the asylum. And not from herself.
‘One night with Olivia would mean nothing!’ The venom spilt from her, caustic and scathing.
It would mean everything. More than I can hold in my heart. And I would hate myself for betraying Liza, but I would also hate myself for not giving Olivia what she deserves.
‘I want to be alone. I deserve it. It’s easier!’ she cried out into the darkness, daring the gods to refute her. A raw sob burst free. She crested the hill and didn’t stop until her toes touched the edge of the world. Below her, a stormy sea tossed froth and foam against the cliff wall. Rain fell, joining the tears coursing down her cheeks.
‘Why? Why did you leave me, Liza? Why didn’t you wait for me to find you? I would have found you. I would have saved you.’ Head tipped to the boiling sky, Philippa screamed her questions into the abyss.
‘It isn’t your job to save me, Phil. I need to save myself. And whether I do or don’t, my fate is no longer tied to yours. Nor is your fate tied to mine. I will always carry a piece of you with me. Wherever I go. I love you. And I release you from our promises.’
Liza’s soft voice echoed in Philippa’s mind as the words she wrote in the last letter Philippa received so many years ago came back to her. Anger gave way to grief. Collapsing on the ground, Philippa let the pain course through her. ‘I can’t let you go, Liza. I promised. My devotion to you is forever. I couldn’t keep my promise to protect you. But I must keep my oath to be devoted to you, no matter if we are together or apart.’
Then you shall never be free. Nor will I. Release me, Phil, as I released you. Love me, and let me go. Live the life you deserve.
Liza’s voice filled her mind, and she felt her soul strain. The mystics believed celestial disturbances could portend a thinning between the veil of life and death. Philippa had no faith in such nonsense, and yet, roses and rosemary danced on the wind. Liza’s scent.
Philippa had never fully given herself to grief. Because to do so would be admitting it was really over. But it swept through her, as powerful and overwhelming as the sea. As cleansing and cold as the rain. As wild and reckless as the wind. She rocked on her knees, her wails blending with the storm’s cry.
