Page 107 of Miss Flibbertigibbet and the Barbarian
Devenish had left them at Harrogate; his family’s stud was located south of Chester, and his way home lay in a more westerly direction. The rest of their company had ridden south, this time via the major roads, and had spent the previous night at a pleasant inn in Gainsborough.
Eagerly, they trotted down Northgate, and as the walls of Styles Place came into view, Addie couldn’t imagine feeling more delighted with her world. She’d spent the past night in Nicholas’s arms, but this time, they’d been most pleasurably exhausted after a lengthy and wholly satisfactory bout of lovemaking. Her attitude to traveling the countryside had substantially altered; now, she could readily imagine accompanying Nicholas to the race meets and major horse sales that, she’d learned, he occasionally needed to attend.
During the journey south, he and she had ridden together, without others close enough to hear, and had made considerable headway in discussing and shaping the details of a joint vision of their shared life.
She was increasingly confident that being Nicholas’s wife would suit her to the ground. That Mrs. Nicholas Cynster was the role she’d been waiting to find and make hers.
Their return to Styles Place with The Barbarian in tow was colored with relief; they’d succeeded in accomplishing all they’d set out to achieve and more.
In furtherance of one of those unlooked-for achievements, Addie chose her moment, and in the late afternoon, half an hour before they would gather in the drawing room prior to dinner, she went looking for Phillip.
After the celebratory evening in Harrogate, she hadn’t again alluded to the need for Phillip to make his peace with their father and introduce Viola to Addie’s parents and the household at the Grange.
She found her half brother sitting behind the desk in the small library. The door was open, and when she looked in, Phillip was absorbed in dealing with what appeared to be estate matters. That he was shouldering that burden for Viola came as no surprise. Smiling, Addie walked in.
Phillip looked up, and a faintly wary look stole over his autocratic features.
She smiled more widely. “Yes, I know. You’d rather walk over the proverbial hot coals, but we—you and I—need to talk.” She tipped her head at the French doors that stood open to the terrace and the gardens beyond. “Come, walk with me.”
Phillip studied her, then sighed, laid aside his pen, and pushed back from the desk.
Without a word, he joined her, and together, they walked out onto the lawns.
Looking ahead, she softly said, “There are things you need to know.”
Phillip frowned. “About the Grange?”
“No. About Papa.” Her gaze on the distant rose garden, she drew breath and plunged in. “He’s well physically. Mentally…” She explained how his mind wandered and what that sometimes led to. “We’ve hidden it as well as we can, at least from those outside the estate, but of course, everyone in the household, and I’m sure on the estate as well, will know by now that the earl isn’t always…”
When she gestured vaguely, Phillip supplied, “Compos mentis.”
His tone was bleak. She glanced at him. He was looking down, but what she could see of his expression was starkly sad.
After several moments of staring at the grass before their slowly pacing feet, he sighed. “I should have been there. To help.” He met her eyes. “To help you all shield him.”
Lightly, she gripped his arm. “Never mind the past. It’s today, tomorrow, and the day after that matter. He needs you, Phillip. The rest of us can and will help, but he needsyou.”
When Phillip didn’t respond, she released him and went on, “This estrangement was instigated by you. Through the years, it was driven by you, fueled by your resentment of what you interpreted as Papa turning his back on your mama. On her memory.” She shook her head. “It was never that way, but Papa couldn’t reach you, couldn’t bridge the chasm and make you see the truth, but now, you’ve learned what love truly is—what it means.”
Phillip made a sound that might have been reluctant agreement.
She went on, “You want a future with Viola. This is your path to seizing and securing that. No matter what happens between you and Papa, you’re destined to become the earl eventually, and I have no doubt whatsoever that Viola will fill the role of countess admirably, and she’ll stand by your side and support you in this as well. You know she will. And we will, too.”
She halted, and when Phillip stopped and faced her, she met his eyes. “Please, Phillip. Come to the Grange and talk to Papa. He’ll be so happy to see you again, it will give him heart and, very likely, give him the strength to hold back the fog that encroaches on his mind, at least for a time.”
Phillip searched her face, his rising hope and burgeoning longing etched in his features. “Do you really think I can just walk into the drawing room and behave as if the past decades of separation didn’t happen?”
She imagined that, then nodded. “Yes.” She searched his eyes. “If you will walk to him, he’ll meet you more than halfway. He loves you, Phillip. He always has.”
Phillip looked down. A moment passed, then he hauled in a huge breath and exhaled. “All right. I’ll try it.” He refocused on her face and gently smiled. “You’ve become a surprisingly good judge of character. Is that a consequence of your years as Miss Flibbertigibbet?”
She thought, then admitted, “Very likely. I learned to judge men by what is in their hearts.”
Phillip arched his brows. “And Cynster?”
She beamed and, turning to the house, linked her arm with Phillip’s. “I definitely know what’s in his heart.”
Phillip chuckled, and with her smiling delightedly, they started walking toward the house.
