Page 36 of A Lady Most Wayward (The Queen’s Deadly Damsels #5)

‘I used to think about her all the time. For years and years, I would wake with her name on my lips and sleep with her face haunting my dreams. But it’s all changing; it feels like she’s disappearing, and I don’t know how to keep her here.’ She thumped her chest with her fist.

Edward took a measured breath. She knew he was trying to weigh his words so as not to upset her.

‘Just say what you need to say, Edward. We are past being careful with one another.’

Shaking his head, Edward’s lips twitched in a wry smile. ‘One is always careful with a woman as dangerous as you, Philippa. But fine. I will speak plainly.’

‘Please.’ Philippa nodded.

‘It is not for you to keep her trapped in your heart, nor should you stay entombed in your memories of her.’

Anger swept in, a complement to her pain. ‘I haven’t trapped her there.’

Edward’s jaw hardened. ‘You have. And you’ve buried yourself away with her, shutting down any chance for new life. New growth. New love. Because you know the pain of loving someone with every part of your being and then losing them, and you are too scared to face that possibility again.’

He’s right. Damn him to the Devil, he’s right and he knows it. Smug bastard.

Philippa blinked, swallowed, then tapped a finger against the arm of the chair. ‘I am not scared.’ But she was. ‘And there is no shame in protecting yourself.’

Edward shook his head. ‘No. But there is also no chance of happiness when protecting yourself also means living in isolation. You aren’t forgetting Liza. It’s not possible. You are just letting her go, Philippa.’

Fear washed through her. ‘But I don’t want to let her go.’

A dry chuckle escaped as Edward reclaimed Philippa’s hand and squeezed gently.

‘No. Because keeping her is a convenient excuse to stay safe within your grief. But you have never been a coward, Philippa. Letting Liza go is scary, yes. But it isn’t a bad thing, and it certainly doesn’t make you a terrible person.

It’s necessary. Because she isn’t here any more.

’ His voice broke and hearing his pain helped her to acknowledge her own.

‘You are holding onto a memory that has you frozen in the past. And it’s time to step into your present. She would want that for you.’

Philippa shook her head, rejecting his words even as they resonated in her heart. ‘What if I can’t?’

Edward rocked back on his heels. His handsome face broke into a smile. ‘Is there anything the Duchess of Dorsett cannot do? Surely not.’

‘The duchess isn’t real, Edward.’

He brushed a tear from her cheek that she’d missed.

His dark eyes burned with fierce emotion.

Love. Respect. Empathy. ‘No. But Philippa is real, and she has never let fear of the unknown stop her. I didn’t think I deserved love after what I did to you and Liza.

But I was wrong, and Ivy is the greatest blessing in my life.

I know this is a novel experience for you, Philippa, but you are also wrong. ’

Philippa pulled back. She hated being wrong.

Admitting her own fallibility was her least favourite thing.

It was much easier to be right all the time.

Except, perhaps, for now. Which was alarming in the extreme.

Not only was she blubbering like a ninny; she might also have to admit she wasn’t perfect. Madness.

‘Excuse me?’ She did her best to regain the archness that kept everyone at arm’s length. Except Edward. And Olivia. And the Damsels.

Damn. I’m slipping.

Edward stood, walked to his desk, and leaned a hip against it.

A paperweight fell to the floor with a dull thunk.

‘You loved Liza. And she loved you. But you are wrong to believe Liza was your only chance at love. Your time with her will never be replaced by another, and your love for her will never be tarnished by another. But you can’t live in memories, Philippa.

It doesn’t work that way. Love is not a pie with a certain number of slices.

It is a stream with infinite tributaries.

The river wants to take you on new adventures, if you are brave enough to let go. ’

This has nothing to do with love. I’m attracted to Olivia. I respect her. I like her. I find myself increasingly amenable to spending as much time with her as possible, but that hardly means…

Hellfire.

I do love her.

Her mind recoiled from such a shattering revelation to refocus on criticising Edward.

Because that, at least, was manageable. ‘That was a terribly mixed metaphor. Pies and rivers. Really.’ But his message was no less powerful because of it.

Not that she would ever admit such to him.

It was bad enough she cried in front of the man.

And nearly conceded she was wrong. Dear lord.

If he dared share this with anyone, she would be forced to kill him.

‘Liza released me from our promises to each other. The last letter she wrote to me, before she went to the asylum. She told me to let her go.’ Philippa hadn’t planned on sharing that with Edward, but once she spoke the words, she couldn’t call them back.

Edward blinked several times. ‘Oh?’

‘She told me she loved me, and she released me.’

Clearing his throat, Edward’s voice was suspiciously husky.

‘She wanted the best for both of us. Even if she couldn’t have a full life herself, she wanted that for us.

’ His chin quivered, and Philippa felt marginally better that she wasn’t the only one having an emotional breakdown.

‘I think the best way to honour her, what she meant to us, is to live life to its fullest, Philippa. Even if it is painful at times. Even if it is frightening.’

Philippa felt something crack around her chest and fall away, like chains being snapped free.

She filled her lungs completely for the first time in nearly twenty years.

The ache of Liza’s absence was not gone.

It would never be gone. But there was room in her heart for something new, if she was brave enough to claim it.

‘If you tell anyone of this conversation or my emotional lapse, I will eviscerate you and turn your entrails into a necklace for my next gown.’

Edward scrunched his face. ‘I very much doubt that would look good. Not even on you, Philippa. And the smell would be ghastly.’

Philippa shrugged. ‘Fashion is a fickle thing, Edward. You never know what will be the next craze sweeping through the beau monde.’ She stood and looked around his cluttered office for a mirror. Surely amidst all the detritus, there would be one looking glass. There was not.

‘You look fine, Philippa.’

She turned to glare at him. ‘Fine? Are you trying to insult me?’

Edward chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t dare. I care too much about my entrails.’

‘Fine might be acceptable for the Commissioner of Scotland Yard, but it will hardly do for the Duchess of Dorsett.’ Turning, she opened his door. ‘Reading, have you a looking glass?’

Reading rushed into the room with one in each hand. ‘Of course, Your Grace. And I have a full-length mirror in the other room if needed.’

‘Well, at least someone is prepared.’ She gave Edward a dry look, her equilibrium somewhat restored, even if she had no idea what to do with her new revelations.

Could she pursue Olivia? Was she brave enough to risk her heart once more?

Would Olivia even accept her suit? For a woman who spent most of her life knowing exactly what she wanted, and exactly how she meant to get it, Philippa found herself bumping down love’s river of adventure with nary a raft in sight.