Page 65 of Deceiving an Earl
The door opened and Philip came out. His hair was wet, his cheeks pink from scrubbing. He wasn’t wearing the same trousers and shirt and thankfully he didn’t stink.
Oliver pushed away from the wall. “Let’s go.”
“Can I at least get a cup of coffee?” Philip asked.
Oliver stopped and looked him up and down, letting the silence stretch until Philip shifted from one foot to the other and he could see Ellen physically holding her breath.
Oliver turned to Ellen. “Did Arthur have a study he used?”
She nodded. “This way.”
Oliver motioned for Philip to follow, and the three made their way to Arthur’s study. It was dusted and there were fresh flowers in there, but he could tell that no one used the room. It had an empty feel to it.
“My footman should have delivered some ledgers.”
Ellen nodded. “I will have them brought in.”
When she left, Oliver motioned for Philip to sit behind the desk. The overlarge leather chair and massive mahogany desk dwarfed him, and he appeared uncomfortable.
“You don’t like being back there?” Oliver asked as he took a seat on the other side of the desk.
Philip ran his hands over the smooth, empty surface. “It reminds me of him. I remember playing on the rug while he moved papers around.”
Oliver raised a brow. “Moved papers around?”
Philip grinned and for the first time he looked like the young lad that he really was. “That’s what it appeared from my vantage point. He would move papers from one pile to the next.”
“It’s quite a bit more complicated than that,” Oliver said.
“I realize that now. I wish…” Philip looked down on the desk that Oliver could see had been polished and maintained since Arthur’s death.
“You wish?”
“I wish he had lived long enough to teach me all I needed to know.”
Ah. The vulnerability came out. Oliver had sensed that Philip’s blasé attitude had been a ruse to mask the pain of losing his father.
“I’m sure he wishes the same. But that’s what I am here to do.”
A footman entered with an arm full of ledgers and put them on the desk. Philip eyed the stack.
“What are these?”
“These,” Oliver tapped the top ledger. “Are your bibles. In here is everything you need to know about the Fieldhurst fortune and what you need to do to not only keep it going but make it succeed. I hope you like arithmetic.”
“I did all right in my classes.”
“Good. Because you will need it. Now let’s get started.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ellen could barely sleep after returning from the ball. Oliver’s words of love swirled around her brain until she was dizzy with it. Her heart thundered with excitement and she so wished she had someone she could tell her secret to. But there was no one she could trust with this. Her friends were flighty and giddy and would surely not be able to keep the news to themselves.
She wished she had the type of relationship with her mother that allowed for confidences, but her mother was cold and had never been approachable with things such as this. So she hugged her knowledge of her impending betrothal to herself and fell asleep smiling.
Soon she would have a home of her own and Oliver as her husband. And life would be so very wonderful.
Oliver would allow her to be herself. He had not scoffed at her desire to learn, to expand her life beyond Society. He had thought her desire to meet different people was wonderful.
