Page 46 of A Wallflower's Convenient Duke
Chapter 21
Unfortunately, as Blanche attempted her first step, it became immediately apparent that she would not be able to walk on her ankle. Though she tried to wave off concern with grace, she could not conceal the pain etched across her features.
"I shall carry you to the carriage," Philip insisted. "I will not have you strain yourself."
"No, I shall be fine…" Blanche winced, attempting to put weight on her injured ankle, but a sharp pain shot through her, confirming the extent of the injury. She sighed, acknowledging the reality of the situation. "Although… I daresay I should hate to slow you down."
Without waiting for further protest, Philip swept her into his arms with careful tenderness. Blanche instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, her breath warming the space between them. For his part, he was simply grateful to be of some use to her — even in so small a gesture as this.
"I am sorry," she murmured. "I did not mean to bring our day to a close like this."
Philip offered a reassuring smile. "There is nothing to apologise for. These things happen. The only thing that matters now is ensuring you are well. We will get you home, and I shall make sure you are comfortable. If a physician is needed, I shall see to it at once."
The journey back to the carriage was slow and deliberate, with Philip navigating carefully to avoid any unnecessary jostling. Blanche rested against his chest, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his steps. The peaceful surroundings, now bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, provided a serene backdrop to their unexpected predicament. It made Philip'sheart swell with joy. All the feelings that he had been trying to push down came flooding to the surface all over again.
"Perhaps we might rest a while," Philip said as they reached the shade of the willow tree. He lowered her onto the soft grass with studied grace, though in truth it was his thoughts—not his arms—that needed the reprieve. Holding her had stirred something within him that he could no longer ignore.
The ancient ruins surrounded them, a silent witness to the unexpected turn their day had taken. They found solace beneath the broad willow trunk, the shade offering a sanctuary from the warm sun as they both caught their breath.
The air hummed with a gentle tension as Philip observed Blanche, her fingers delicately tracing the patterns of the pendant. Philip noticed the motion, and his voice was softer now. “You know… it was that very pendant that caught my eye in the McGeary parlour.”
Blanche's gaze met his, surprise flickering in her eyes. The mosaic pendant, a delicate treasure, held a significance she had not fully grasped. In Philip's admission, it became a bridge connecting the threads of their shared history.
Philip continued, his words carrying a sincerity that transcended the simple act of compliment. "There was something in the way you spoke of it. Of history. The passion in your voice — it drew me in. And now here we are, surrounded by ruins once more.” His smile turned a shade wistful. “Tell me more about it. I’d very much like to know its story.”
Blanche hesitated at first, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns of the pendant as she gathered her thoughts. The air seemed to hold a nostalgic weight, a palpable anticipation as she began to share the precious memory that lay hidden within the delicate mosaic.
"My father and I," Blanche started, her voice carrying a halting tenderness, "when I was just a young girl, we used toexplore the ruins of a Roman fort together. It was one of our special places, a sanctuary where history spoke in whispers."
Philip listened intently, drawn into the intimate narrative that unfolded beneath the willow. Blanche's eyes, alive with a mix of nostalgia and affection, painted a vivid picture of a young girl exploring the ancient remnants with her father.
"On one of those explorations," Blanche continued, her voice softening with the weight of cherished memories, "I stumbled upon a beautiful mosaic fragment. It was like discovering a piece of the past that belonged just to us. I suppose a little like the mosaic that I discovered today in the ruins." She met his eyes sincerely. "But that is about the two of us."
That made Philip's heart race. He had also thought of it as a tangible link between them, but to hear his wife say it was incredibly special. He could not stop his lips from curling up into a grateful smile.
"That mosaic sounds remarkable, Blanche. Tell me more about the intricate details that caught your eye."
He wanted her to keep talking. To see her eyes light up and to hear her passion in every word.
"The colours, Philip, oh, they were like whispers from the past. Blues and golds melding together, each tile telling a story of a time long gone. It was as if I could feel the echoes of ancient lives in those vibrant hues."
Philip nodded; his curiosity piqued. "And when did you decide to turn it into a pendant?"
A soft smile graced Blanche's lips as she touched the delicate pendant around her neck. "On my sixteenth birthday, my father surprised me with it. He had the mosaic tile carefully set into this pendant, like a piece of art encased in time. It was his way of immortalising that moment and our shared love for history."
Philip's gaze softened, appreciating the depth of the connection between Blanche and her father. "It is a beautifulsentiment, preserving a memory like that. Your father truly understood the significance of that day. I can understand why you miss him so."
Blanche nodded, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and nostalgia. "He did. That pendant is more than just a piece of jewellery. It's a tangible link to my past, a reminder of the bond we shared over our love for history and exploration. It will always keep me going, remind me to explore the world, and to live life as I wish."
"That is a truly wonderful sentiment." Philip’s voice was quiet, but there was a new light in his eyes — a spark ignited by her words. This — this was how he wanted to live. And perhaps, with Blanche beside him, he finally could.
"Your father would be proud, I think," he added softly. "To see you living so fully, embracing life with such courage and curiosity. To see you laughing, adventuring, making memories of your own."
Blanche’s smile deepened, touched with emotion. "You know," she said gently, "I’m certain he would have adored you. I think… he would have been very glad we found our way to each other — however unexpectedly it came about."
Listening to Blanche talk about her father in such an open and honest way, Philip sensed the vulnerability she had shared — a piece of herself that transcended the confines of their facade marriage. In that moment, he realised that she had entrusted him with something sacred, as sacred as the memory wrapped in the delicate mosaic that hung around her neck. It was a gesture of trust that reached beyond the superficial layers of their union.
Whatever had brought them together, they were here now, and overwhelmingly happy. This was a beautiful twist of fate that thrilled Philip to the bone.
