Page 68 of Deceiving an Earl
“I have no intention of giving up my salons or my friends.”
“Ellen, dear.” He patted her hand. Ellen wanted to yank it away but decided to remain civil. “I understand that you were grieving for your late husband and making new friends might have lessened that grief. But it’s time to return to the Society you were trained for. That’s the Ellen I need.”
Trained for?
Whatheneeds?
She pulled her hand from his. “If you mean by ‘trained’ that I married into the title of countess, then you are correct. But my upbringing was much more humble. My father was a baron. I was not raised as Lady Ellen, but Miss Ellen.”
He waved his hand in the air. That hand that had saved so many people. “That is of no consequence to me, and that was long ago. I daresay that most people assume you have been a lady your entire life.”
This conversation was beyond bizarre.
“William, I’m not giving up my salons. Or my friends. For anyone.”
His face darkened just as the door opened and Philip and Oliver strolled in, talking quietly to themselves. They both stopped short when they saw Ellen and William sitting close together and talking earnestly.
William stood but Ellen’s legs had gone weak.
In the doorway, the similarities were obvious. It was so clear to her that they were father and son.
And the eyes.
The eyes were the giveaway.
The same shade of sky blue—summer sky blue.
Her gaze was riveted to them, her breath stolen with the lies she’d been living.
“Ah,” Oliver said as he noticed William. “I wasn’t aware you were entertaining.”
“Uh. Yes.” Ellen stood on shaking legs. She clasped her hands together so no one would notice how much they trembled. “You’ve met Sir William.”
Oliver nodded to William, then turned his attention to Ellen. Philip seemed to be scowling at William.
“Philip and I are finished for now. I will call tomorrow and we can wrap it up.”
“Of course.”
He turned to Philip and they shook hands, and Ellen wanted to sink through a hole in the floor. She couldn’t possibly let these two spend any more time together or everything would be ruined. Philip would lose his title, his inheritance, his name.
“Thank you,” she heard Philip saying, and for once he didn’t seem angry or belligerent.
“You did well.” Oliver patted Philip on the back, nodded to Ellen, and left.
Philip didn’t bother with pleasantries, he simply vanished through the door, and she could hear him running up the steps to his rooms.
William faced her, his expression hard, his gaze piercing. “Well. Ellen. It seems you have some explaining to do.”
Her heart dropped, and she felt the blood rush from her head. It took all of her effort not to sway, to smile and look innocent instead of panicked.
“Lord Armbruster is helping Philip learn about being an earl. Things that Arthur never had a chance to teach him.”
William cocked his head to the side, and Ellen felt like a small rabbit in the sights of a relentless hunting dog. He knew. William knew her secret and all she could think to do was deny everything, get William out of here quickly, and cut all ties to him.
“Philip is not Arthur’s son, is he, Ellen?”
She drew back and tried to appear shocked and offended. “Of course Philip is Arthur’s son.”
