Page 46 of Deceiving an Earl
He needed a strong male presence, and she had hoped Oliver might provide that, however twisted it was to ask Philip’s real father for help. But she feared that she’d angered Oliver and pushed him away by insinuating that his sister was not good enough for Philip when that wasn’t the case at all. She quite agreed with Oliver that Philip was not good enough for Josephine. But her determination to keep the two apart had nothing to do with any of that and everything to do with the fact that Josephine was Philip’s aunt.
She closed her eyes at the tangled web she had woven over the years, never once thinking that things would get this complicated. Keep Oliver away from Philip. It had been her goal for sixteen years, and she’d done a decent job of it until recently. Until Philip had messed everything up so badly that she’d been forced to turn to Oliver for help.
“And why is he willing to help me get back into Eton, Mother?”
“Because the headmaster asked him to.”
“Mmmm.”
“Oh, for goodness sake, Philip. You are impossible. And you need to leave Lady Josephine alone.”
“She was quite fetching. Stunning, really.”
“And she is not for you. Not ever. You stay away from the Armbrusters. Do you hear me?”
He seemed taken aback by her vehemence. There was little that Ellen was strict about, and she was well aware that was the cause of most of Philip’s problems. But in this she would not be swayed.
“Tell me you will stay away from her,” she insisted.
He pushed himself from the wall. “She seemed a bit too prim and proper anyway.”
“Her mother would have a fit if she knew the girl had been here tonight. Lady Armbruster is a stickler for propriety, and she is not a person we want to anger.”
In truth, Ellen had always been in awe of Oliver’s mother. Maybe even a little scared. Especially after Ellen discovered that Philip carried McCaron blood.
“I think I’ll be off to find my friends,” Philip said, and sauntered away.
Ellen was in no mood to stop him and in fact was relieved that he was leaving. Hopefully, he would forget about Lady Josephine.
…
Ashland sank down into the chair opposite Oliver and eyed the stack of papers on the table beside him. It was their weekly meeting at their gentleman’s club where they discussed current events and unsolved mysteries.
“Anything new?” Ashland asked.
“Not really. Things seem to be quiet.”
“What about the murders O’Leary was telling us about?”
“Murders aren’t uncommon in the East End.”
“True. But I find it intriguing. Different.”
Ashland accepted a port from the servant and sat back. “You seem preoccupied tonight.”
“I have a lot of things on my plate right now.”
“Such as Lady Fieldhurst?” Ashland grinned, but Oliver was not in a humorous mood and didn’t want to discuss Ellen, especially with Ashland, who was still in the first stages of marriage and thought everyone should subscribe to the institution.
“Not Lady Fieldhurst,” he lied, hating himself for lying to his best friend.
Ashland laughed, seemingly sensing the lie and not caring. “Come now, Armbruster. Lady Fieldhurst is a beautiful woman, around your age, I’m thinking. And a widow.”
“And?” Oliver eyed Ashland unkindly. He didn’t want to discuss Ellen at all.
“And you should court her.”
Oliver huffed out a breath. “She’s already being courted by Sir William Needham.”
