Page 45 of A Most Unlikely Lady
He followed Philippa with his gaze as she walked across the room and peered out the window. She stretched the silence so tightly, Edward was sure he could hear the fabric of time tear just a little. But he wouldn’t speak first. She called this meeting.
So, she can bloody well start the conversation.
Edward strolled around the settee and tugged up his trousers to take a seat. Folding his hands in front of him, he leaned back and sighed.
Philippa turned to face him and rolled her eyes. ‘You won’t admit it. So, fine. I shall say it for you. You like Ivy.’
‘She is a kind, thoughtful woman. I’m sure a great number of people like her. Yourself included, and you like far fewer people than I do, Philippa.’
Tsking, Philippa turned back to the window, brushing her hand over the thick, woven curtain. ‘Don’t ruin my opinion of you by being so wilfully ignorant.’
Something in her tone cracked Edward’s composure, allowing scissures of irritation to burn through his shell of control.
‘I rather thought your opinion of me was irrevocably destroyed all those years ago. Isn’t that what this conversation is really about? Warning me away from Ivy? Reminding me of all the reasons why I will never deserve that kind of happiness? Because trust me, I am aware.’
Philippa left the window and walked to the chair opposite Edward, but she did not sit. Instead, she rested her hand on the back of it. ‘Don’t be an idiot, Edward. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life in misery.Shewouldn’t have wanted that either.’
‘Nor would she want you to spend the rest of your life mourning her. That is why you still wear the colours of a newly widowed woman, though your husband has been dead for more than a decade. Because you are still grieving her. Tell me I’m wrong?’
‘I find darker colours to be more flattering.’
‘Bollocks! How can you possibly expect me to entertain ideas of love or marriage if you refuse to move forward?’
‘Because I lost the other half of my soul, Edward.’ Philippa’s voice wavered, and tears shone in her eyes in a shocking display of emotion. ‘I lost my life partner.’
‘And I am to blame for that, Philippa.’
She closed her eyes. A single tear tracked down her cheek as she slowly shook her head. ‘I thought that for a very long time. But I was wrong.’ Wiping the tear away as if it never existed, she pinned Edward with her gaze. ‘It was easier to hate you than forgive you, but I can’t find peace within myself if I’m still at war with you.’
Edward slipped off the settee and went to Philippa. ‘I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Philippa.’
‘You’re getting it anyway.’
What was the appropriate response for such a stern offering of grace?
A handshake?
Too American.
A hug?
Most definitely not.
A carefully penned note of thanks?
I’m not an eighty-year-old dowager.
‘Err. Well. Thank you.’
Philippa rolled her eyes. ‘Dear God. I wasn’t sure things could get more awkward, but you’ve managed to find a way. Bravo. Let’s never mention this again.’
Rocking back on his heels, relief swept through him. ‘Yes, wonderful suggestion.’
‘Now, will you finally admit youlikeIvy?’
As quickly as the relief arrived, it was gone again. Edward exhaled a pained breath. She was incessant. But he couldn’t lie to Philippa. ‘I do. I like her very much.’
Dear God. I’ve admitted it.
