Page 40 of A Lady Most Wayward (The Queen’s Deadly Damsels #5)

The maid bustled around, lighting the fire, pulling back Olivia’s bed.

She helped her remove her evening gown, take down her hair, brush and braid the thick curls, and slip into a voluminous nightgown that made Olivia feel like a little girl.

Thanking the maid, she dismissed her for the evening, scrubbed her teeth with powder of charcoal and baking soda, blew out the candle, and climbed into bed.

The faint sounds of voices below reminded her that Philippa was still entertaining her guests.

A group of people who were closer to family than just mere friends.

But not my family. They are hers. And when I leave, they will still be here to surround her with love and support. And I will be alone once more.

Feeling sorry for herself never accomplished anything, so Olivia only allowed a few tears to fall before she sniffed and snuggled deeper into her covers.

If they were able to defeat her brother, she wouldn’t need to leave the continent, but she certainly had no wish to stay in London.

Attending balls and watching Philippa from afar like a lovesick fool held no appeal.

When her husband died, he had left her a dowager house in Covington.

She could take Hyacinth there and spend her days in bucolic fields of grazing sheep, nursing her broken heart in privacy.

Dear lord, I’m dramatic. Perhaps I shall write some epic verse or Gothic novels to while away my time.

It didn’t matter. She would have Hyacinth and her freedom. It was far more than most women ever received, and it would need to be enough. Damn her heart for being so greedy as to want everything.

She drifted to sleep and dreamed of striding along grassy fields. But in her dreams, she wasn’t alone. A dark-haired figure walked with her, their hands clasped. Their skirts tangling together in the wind.

* * *

‘It would seem this mission has brought you and Olivia together. I’m so glad you were able to get over your dislike of her.

’ Hannah sat next to Philippa as they transitioned from the dining room into the parlour.

She spoke loud enough for the group to hear, and Philippa tightened her hand into a fist and reminded herself of all the reasons it was wrong to punch one’s friend in the face, unless they were sparring, of course.

Thankfully, young Callum had excused himself, so at least he would not be privy to the conversation.

‘I didn’t dislike her. I just didn’t trust her. And for good reason, might I add.’ Philippa endeavoured to keep her voice calm.

‘But you trust her now?’ Ivy asked, her crystal-blue gaze pinning Philippa to the cushions in a look Philippa was excellent at giving herself. She was less enthusiastic about being the recipient.

‘I believe her motives were inspired by love for her daughter and fear she might lose her. She may have acted less than honourably, but her intentions were pure.’ Indeed, Philippa more than trusted Olivia.

She respected her. Liked her. Loved her.

But that was hardly the business of her inquisitive friends.

‘When our loved ones are threatened, we are all willing to do things we normally wouldn’t.’ Drake leaned against the mantel, a whiskey in his large hand. ‘There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect Millie.’

‘Nor I you, my love.’ Millie winked at her husband.

‘It brings about an interesting point. I think we all agree that love allows us to do things we otherwise might not be capable of achieving. It makes us stronger. I know on the battlefield, those who fought for love of their land and people were far fiercer than paid mercenaries.’ Killian spoke to the group, but his sharp gaze stayed on Philippa.

‘Absolutely,’ Liam readily agreed as Philippa imagined all the ways she could torture her friends, one after the other.

Because they were certainly torturing her.

The duchess, whose opinion on romantic love had always been rather dim, was being forced to admit her folly.

There wasn’t one person in this room she hadn’t advised to stay away from the trap of love.

They are enjoying this. Damn them.

‘People often think loving someone makes them more vulnerable to attack, but Penny protects me just as much as I protect her. I’d wager I’m far safer with her by my side in any battle than the most skilled fighter. Because I trust her and know she trusts me irrevocably.’

‘Who’s to say I’m not the most skilled fighter?’ Penny raised a brow at her husband before slipping her hand into his. ‘There’s no one I’d rather stand next to against any foe. Even if I’m only armed with an apple.’

‘It wasn’t until I met Ivy that I understood how much more I had to live for, to fight for.

Knowing how blessed I am to have her in my life, I want to ensure others have that same opportunity.

Even those who might not think they deserve it.

’ Edward raised his brow at Philippa. She would wager he’d practised the look in a mirror for this specific occasion.

Bastard.

‘I for one can attest that Lady Ivy has bettered your general mood and demeanour, sir. You are almost tolerable to be with now, and that is a vast improvement.’ Reading sipped his sherry and wrinkled his nose, his thin moustache wriggling on his upper lip like a blond caterpillar.

Enough. I will not sit here and be lectured on the virtues of love.

Philippa stood and paced in an agitated track to the fireplace, whirling around to face the group. ‘Will you all please stop! I know what you are trying to do.’

Hannah parted her mouth in an expression of mock-innocence. ‘What on earth do you mean?’

‘You want me to admit that I was wrong about Olivia. Fine! I was wrong. I am not always right, all the time.’

‘Just mostly right most of the time,’ Edward said.

‘Yes, exactly.’ Philippa was having trouble keeping her thoughts organised.

Her chest felt tight, she couldn’t breathe normally, her pulse pounded in her ears, and she had a distinct impression that her voice might be shrill.

Her voice was never shrill. Looking at the whiskey glass she had left on the low table next to the settee, she wondered if Stokes really had added hemlock to the spirits.

Ivy approached Philippa slowly, the way one might a spooked horse. ‘You do know we all love you, don’t you?’

What madness was this? Not only were they needling her to admit her love for Olivia, but now they were declaring their own feelings about Philippa?

It was nonsensical. One did not openly discuss their affection for others while drinking port in the front parlour.

They certainly didn’t declare their love in front of half a dozen of their closest friends when they hadn’t even admitted their feelings to the person upon whom their love was bestowed.

Philippa couldn’t find words, so she shook her head in blatant denial of Ivy’s statement.

Millie walked over, putting her warm hand on Philippa’s arm and holding tight even as she tried to pull back. ‘And we all believe you deserve to find love again.’

She was hallucinating. Probably a side effect of the poison Stokes put in her cup.

She was going to kill him. Then sack him.

Then bring him back from the dead to kill him again.

They should be discussing how they were going to take down the leader of the Devil’s Sons.

Not Philippa’s love life. The very idea was horrifying.

Hannah stood from the settee and joined the trio of women. ‘It doesn’t matter who you love, as long as they are worthy of you, Philippa.’

Penny stayed next to Liam, but her voice carried easily across the quiet room. ‘And Olivia seems exceedingly worthy, Your Grace.’

‘Liza would have liked her.’ Edward’s much softer words hit Philippa like a fist in the belly. Because he was right. She would have loved Olivia’s spark. Her stubbornness. Her courage to stand toe to toe against Philippa.

‘You don’t need to hide your relationship from us, Your Grace,’ Reading added. ‘I might delight in judging others, but I would never judge you for whoever it is you love.’

‘If you want to hold Olivia’s hand at dinner, bloody well do it.’ Millie squeezed her arm, her wide smile and brimming eyes testament to the woman’s affection for Philippa.

But they didn’t understand. They thought she pulled back from Olivia at dinner because she was worried about their reactions. That wasn’t the case at all.

Dear God. Is that what Olivia thought? Is that why she left?

Dread filled her belly as she realised her mistake. ‘I’m not worried about what you think.’ Philippa struggled to put her own thoughts into words.

‘Ah. Well. That’s a relief. We assumed you might actually care about our opinions. How silly of us.’ Drake’s rough voice was dry as the desert where he once fought.

Philippa never had trouble expressing herself.

But tonight was for the books because nothing was happening as it should.

The very idea that Olivia might have thought she was embarrassed of her, that she pulled away because she didn’t want her friends to know of her esteem, was so patently opposite of how she felt, Philippa was certain she would be sick all over her favourite evening gown.

‘I love Olivia.’ The words burst forth like water breaking free of a dam. And it felt bloody marvellous to admit her feelings out loud, even if she’d been bullied into doing it by her closest friends.

‘Yes. We are all aware.’ Stokes had entered the room with his habitual quiet step.

Philippa turned to the door where he stood with a full bottle of amber liquid. More whiskey. Probably full of arsenic. She glared at him before turning back to the others.

‘I wasn’t trying to hide my feelings for her because of any fears you might not accept us.’

‘Really?’ Drake raised a broken brow, his scepticism obvious.

‘No. I have more faith in you than that. Well, most of you.’ Again, Philippa shot Stokes a baleful look as he refilled Killian’s glass.

The butler studiously ignored her.

Hannah’s smile was full of relief before she quirked her brow in confusion. ‘So why did you pull away? Because it looked a lot like you regretted holding Olivia’s hand.’

Philippa wished she had her fan. She desperately needed to thwack something.

‘I haven’t told her how I feel. And I’ve no idea if she feels the same.

I thought I was putting her in an impossible situation.

Forcing her to accept such a public display of affection without knowing if she wanted that. So, I pulled back.’

Millie’s look of sympathy confirmed Philippa’s worst fears.

‘Dear God. I made a terrible mistake. Didn’t I?’

‘Yes.’ Ten voices spoke in unison.

Bollocks. What the bloody hell am I going to do now?

Thankfully, she had a plethora of opinions on exactly how to rectify the situation.

The rest of the evening was spent making plans. But not to take down the leader of a nefarious brotherhood. Rather, to woo the heart of a lady.