Page 104 of Deceiving an Earl
“Why?” His expression was determined, as if he could will her to change her mind.
“There are circumstances that are beyond your control. For a man who is always in control I know that is hard to accept, but there are some things that will not bend to your will.”
He laughed, a harsh laugh. “Oh, I know that. You will never bend to my will.”
She smiled and for a moment they shared a warm look, two lovers who had known each other for eternity and shared a love that would never die, even if it was doomed.
“Is he blackmailing you, Ellen?”
Her smile evaporated, the warmth quickly replaced by a cold fear that she had learned to associate with William.
“Is he?”
“Let’s just say that my choices have more to do with those I love than anything else.”
He looked at her closely, as if he could delve into her mind and extract her thoughts and secrets. Oh, if only he could, then she wouldn’t have to voice them.
“I can help you.”
“You can’t. You might think you can, but you can’t.”
“Then this is it? Your choice is made?”
For a long moment she didn’t speak, because the words wouldn’t form. But then she thought of Philip and his legacy and inheritance and she knew she had no choice. She never had. Not since that moment when she’d realized Philip was Oliver’s son and she’d chosen to keep it her secret. Her course had been set from then on, and it was far too late to change it now.
“My choice is made, and I have chosen William.”
She could see the hope drain from him. She wanted to take the words back but knew she couldn’t.
“Very well,” he said. “I won’t be back again, just so you know. There are only so many times I’ll come begging.”
“I understand.”
“But know this. If you ever need me you know where to find me.”
Her throat closed up with so many emotions that she could only nod. Part of her felt good knowing that he would always be there for her, even while she knew she would never reach out to him. William had made it clear that she was not to speak to Oliver again. Even this meeting was dangerous for her.
He walked to the door and she watched him go, desperately wanting to run after him, to beg him to stay and help her.
His hand on the knob, he turned to look at her with blue eyes so much like their son’s.
“I wouldn’t mind,” he said, “if Philip were my son.”
Dinner that night was mostly a silent affair. Ellen had not even wanted to eat but she knew her time with Philip was ending soon. He would return to Eton in a few weeks, and who knew when William would allow him back.
But few words were spoken. Philip kept his gaze on his plate, and Ellen just moved her food around on hers.
They were both startled by a commotion at the front door. Ellen was halfway out of her seat and Philip’s fork was suspended in the air when William came crashing in.
“William,” Ellen said in surprise.
He looked a bit wild, his hair disheveled, his eyes flat.
Philip put his fork down and rose slowly, his expression wary as he trained his one good eye on William.
“We need to talk,” William said. His fingers tapped the side of his leg in agitation.
“Of course. Philip, if you’ll excuse us.”
