Page 74 of Deceiving an Earl
Oliver shrugged, not wanting to relive any of that.
They fell silent again, and Oliver was thinking that he would really like that decanter of port. Damn Ashland for giving Richard the day off.
“Oliver?”
“Hmmm.”
“How old is Philip?”
“I don’t know. Sixteen, I believe.”
Wonder where the butler kept the port in the house? He could find it himself. He didn’t need Richard to fetch it for him.
“So Lady Fieldhurst wed Lord Fieldhurst, and they had Philip right away.”
He really wanted that port, badly. He could, of course, find port at his club, but that would require dressing. And bathing.
“Yes, Philip came along quickly.”
“And no other after that?”
“Apparently not. Why all these strange questions?”
Ashland seemed to hesitate for a moment. “You’ve never considered that Philip might be a product of your…er…indiscretion with Ellen that night?”
Chapter Twenty
It took a moment for Ashland’s words to soak through Oliver’s foggy mind, and when it did, Oliver laughed. And then he laughed some more because Ashland was so serious.
“Ah, my friend, you are humorous.”
Ashland shrugged. “It’s just a thought. Of course it’s probably totally untrue.”
“Of course it is. Ellen would never perpetuate such a farce. No. Philip is Fieldhurst’s son, through and through.”
The thought of Philip being his son was ludicrous. Preposterous. Ellen would have told him. They’d had an honest relationship. They’d told each other everything.
…
“I’ll not do it,” Ellen said, the words out of her mouth before she could stop them. She’d never defied her father before. She’d never had a need to, but she couldn’t do this. She refused to be a pawn in her parents’ attempt to elevate themselves in society. She could marry Oliver. He was going to be an earl anyway.
Her father slowly raised his head, and his eyes narrowed. She took half a step back. What had she just done?
“The papers are signed. You have no choice.”
“But you didn’t even ask me what I wanted.” She tried, she really tried, to keep her voice steady, but she failed miserably.
“It doesn’t matter what you want,” he said. “You will do as you are told.”
“I won’t,” she said calmly, then with more force, “I won’t!”
She spun on her heel and ran out of the room as the tears broke free and she choked on a sob.
She ran straight to her mother and burst through her sitting room door.
Her mother was at her desk, writing letters. Her head jerked up when Ellen appeared, sobbing, breath heaving, trying not to vomit.
“F-father has said…I’m to marry. The earl. Fieldhurst.” She could speak only in bursts, taking great gulps of air between words.
