Page 18 of The Lady
“Tea, Pip?” There was a knowing glow to her question.
Forcing himself to try to be more subtle, Philip nodded and accepted a cup from Mrs. Turbot, who had busied herself with the Sèvres china.
“My mother has left us all in the direst of circumstances,” Philip said, trying to sound as kind as he could, given the present company. “Running away with your husband Mrs. Turbot is an unforgivable act. However, Langley is searching for them, but in the meantime, I may have a solution.” He lowered his teacup and pulled from his pocket the letter that Langley had given him. Ignoring his own internal protest at what the letter demanded of him, Philip passed the missive across the table to the two women. He waited for them to read the demands and then said, “As you clearly see, the dowager will renounce your husband and leave him to return home to you, Mrs. Turbot, as soon as I depart from London.”
A tentative smile graced Mrs. Turbot’s pale face, but Margot looked furious. She adjusted herself in her seat and looked closely at Philip. “You mean to give up the life you have built. Your practise. Everything you have worked towards.” Margot paused as she tried to find the right words. She had caught the look in Philip’s eyes as he’d viewed Flora—he could tell.
“Surely it is worthwhile to restore a husband to his loving wife?”
“And your own happiness, what of that? What if you had some intention towards a girl in London?” Margot asked sharply, and Philip knew he was done trying to hide anything from his clever sister-in-law.
“Please…”
“Will you excuse us, Mrs. Turbot?”
The young matron got to her feet with a murmured thanks to Philip before she slipped out.
Margot turned perceptive eyes on Philip. “You love Lady Flora.” It was not a question, which meant Philip had no reason to respond. Which was just as well since he was not certain he knew how to answer that charge.
“It doesn’t matter. You’ve read the dowager’s letter. You know what my mother wants of me. For me to vanish forever. To burn any connection to thebeau monde.”
“She can go hang.” Margot was pink cheeked. “This is about you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Philip said. “If I can help the Turbots, and our own family. Surely it is all that matters. Besides, I am a bastard, and Lady Flora deserves better than the likes of me. But I can do what is expected of me. I can help repair a broken marriage. Surely, Maggie, you want me to do the best thing for all concerned?”
CHAPTER 9
It was lovely and peaceful out in the countryside, away from the hustle and bustle of London. The sound of birdsong echoed from outside. The scent of the herb garden and cinnamon drifted up from the kitchen through the open window. Despite the occasional whooping noise from one of the Langley twins, it was a heaven-sent house. Dressed in one of Margot’s chemises, as well as a freshly pressed sprigged muslin day gown, Flora was more than happy to meander down the stairs and back towards the parlour, where Margot would be. And Philip.
Last night with Philip had been everything she had hoped for. Better than that, in fact. Any initial discomfort had faded under Philip’s administrations and care. His passion. The tenderness of his kiss. The absolute dedication in his touch. How the sensations had consumed and crashed through her.
It was almost enough to believe that he loved her. As much as she loved him.
She knew there was a great deal they would have to discuss and resolve, but if he held her like that, kissed her in that way… Surely, he must care, and there might be hope for the idea of marriage in their future.
Flora turned the corner, heading towards the parlour, and Philip manifested before her as if she had wished him there. “My lady.” He dipped his head in greeting.
“Hello.” Flora could not help the softness eking into her voice as he looked at him. A grin broke over her face, and she hurried over the last remaining steps, eager to wrap her arms around his neck again. She reached him, lifting up her hands to embrace him.
But Philip stepped back. “I am sorry.” There was a heavy note of reluctance to his tone yet the coldness to his stance was visible. Fear cascaded through Flora, surely, she could not have misread his character so entirely. Had she been one of those foolish girls, swayed by the seductiveness of an older man, wantonly led astray by a doctor, a man she had loved for a decade… if last night was to mean nothing to him? Was he more like his rake of a brother, than she’d initially thought?
Philip was speaking, his voice coming from a long way off, but Flora could not make sense of his words.
“I have a little savings, and with them I could make for the coast. Perhaps to France, as I can speak the language or?—”
“You wish to leave?”
“My mother has manipulated the situation perfectly. If I am to act honourably and cause the least amount of scandal?—”
“Do you wish to go?” Unable to help herself, a tremble entered Flora’s voice, and she had the small satisfaction in seeing the façade that Philip had created suddenly crumble.
“Of course I don’t. I have no desire to leave my family, my home… you.” His hand reached out and he cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin and sending shivers through her body. He stepped closer, looking pained. “Everything I have hoped to build in my future.” He leant closer and placed his forehead against hers. “Dammit Flora, I am falling in love with you, ofcourse I don’t want to leave you. How can you ever imagine that?”
The tears dried on her cheeks, and she smiled up and up, throwing herself forward and into his arms. “That is all I wanted to hear.” Her lips met his, and she kissed him heartily, pulling back to murmur against his mouth, “You see I love you.”
Philip’s arms tightened around her, pulling her closer still. He let out a loud sigh that seemed wrenched from his very depths. The brief struggle suddenly vanished as he lifted Flora up and resumed kissing her. It was wonderful. His lips were firm and sensual, and his tongue nudged into her mouth, sweeping in and capturing all. She relaxed into his grip, liberated by her confession and his acknowledgement of his own feelings. The kiss deepened and lengthened and soon they were pressed against the wall, Philip’s hard body cradling hers.
“When I said I was falling for you…”
