Page 19

“ I f you might, then I – ”

“Waverley?”

“Rosalyn?” Phillip rose from his seat in an instant, striding across the room, caught by the fear in her eyes. “Whatever is the matter?”

She said nothing, putting her arms out to him and, as though it was the most natural thing in all the world, Phillip pulled her close.

His eyes closed, but he asked her nothing despite the many questions that poured into his thoughts.

The butler stepped tactfully out of the room, though he left the door wide open, perhaps aware that there was a need for propriety at the present moment.

“Lady Isobella was with me, but she had to return home.” Lady Rosalyn’s voice was muffled against his chest. “Forgive me, Waverley, I know this may be foolish, but I have been so unsettled by what I have seen.”

“There is nothing foolish about this.” Unwilling to release her from his arms, Phillip closed his eyes and inhaled gently, his stomach swirling as the gentle scent of lavender caught him.

How easy it would be to look down into her eyes and lower his head, leaving her to close the distance between them!

He would not require any words then, would he?

All he would need would be that one single moment when he might know for certain whether or not his feelings were returned.

Except she does not need that at present.

Gently disentangling himself and hating the cold that swept into him as she stepped back from his arms, Phillip gestured for her to sit down.

“Should I send for your brother?” He frowned, realizing that she had come to him rather than returning home.

“There is nothing wrong with Fairchild, is there?”

Lady Rosalyn shook her head, pressed one hand flat against her forehead, and then closed her eyes, choosing not to sit down.

“No, it is not him. Though mayhap I ought to have returned home first, but the truth is, after what I saw, I could think only of you. I could not tell him considering what it might mean to him and all his considerations.”

Considerations? “Please sit down, Rosalyn.” Phillip took her arm and carefully led her to the couch so that she might sit.

He did not like the way her gaze darted this way and that; he did not like how she caught the edge of her lip.

“Mayhap I should send for your brother, yes? He could bring the carriage for you, could he not? We can talk before he arrives.”

She nodded absently, and Phillip quickly rang the bell.

When the footman arrived, he stated what was required and asked for some refreshments to be sent up quickly thereafter.

Then, choosing to sit beside Rosalyn, he reached out to take her hand, surprised when she gripped it tightly. “Tell me what it is you have seen.”

She swallowed hard, closed her eyes, and then let out a breath before she answered. “When we were at the soiree, the one where you confronted Lord Pentland, was Lord Coates not also present?”

Phillip nodded. “Yes, he was.”

“He declared that Lord Pentland was lying about what he had supposedly heard, did he not?”

Again, Phillip nodded.

“I am sure, before I left the conversation, that I overheard Lord Coates state that he thought Lord Hemmingway and Lord Pentland to be dreadful fellows, or something akin to that.”

“Yes, he did,” Phillip answered, not certain where these questions were taking them.

“He made it quite clear that he did not think well of them at all and stated, quite clearly, that he had no time for their company. He stated, in fact, that he refused to even speak with them!” He gave her a tiny smile.

“I confess to being quite delighted at just how determinedly he set against them. Indeed, he said that those who listened to them betrayed their own foolishness! His solidarity was something I valued a great deal.”

Rather than bringing Lady Rosalyn any sort of comfort, his words only seemed to upset her further. She shook her head, closing her eyes tightly as she gripped his hand.

“I do not think he can be trusted,” she said, her voice a low whisper. “Oh, my dear Waverley, I have only just seen him in deep conversation with both Lord Hemmingway and Lord Pentland!”

Shock ran through him, spreading ice from the center of his heart outward. He tried to take this in, tried to think of another reason for the gentleman to be speaking with these two despicable gentlemen but found he could not.

“I was greatly astonished,” Lady Rosalyn continued, shifting in her seat so she was a little closer to him.

“You cannot imagine my surprise upon seeing him speaking with them! At first, it was just he and Lord Pentland, and thereafter, Lord Hemmingway came to join them. What concerned me the most was that they walked to a narrower, quiet street and spoke there, as if they were hiding from others.”

“So they would not be seen,” Phillip muttered, pushing one hand through his hair and exhaling hard. “There must be something else to this, surely?”

“It may very well be nothing to do with you,” she agreed, quickly.

“Mayhap there is some other reason but… oh, Waverley, the moment I saw them, great fear and dread filled my heart. These two gentlemen have been hounding you, have they not? So why is Lord Coates in such deep conversation with them? What is it that they want from him? Or he from them?” A catch came into her voice.

“And what am I to say to my brother? He is becoming slowly more and more inclined towards Lady Catherine, Lord Coates’ daughter!

If I say anything about Lord Coates, then I am sure he will pull himself away from her. ”

“And you do not want that.”

She shook her head, a single tear dripping down her cheek. “No, I do not,” she answered, a little hoarsely. “I want him to be happy, to have a heart filled with affection for another rather than making a match out of requirement and duty.”

Phillip’s heart pounded as he licked his lips, trying to find the right words to say, wanting both to comfort her and yet, at the same time, stay sober-minded so he would not give himself away.

This was not the time nor the place for such a conversation if, indeed, he was going to pursue it.

“That is a beautiful desire, Rosalyn,” he answered, unable to help himself as he reached out to brush the tear from her cheek. “Is that not what every heart wants?”

Her eyes rounded at the edges and Phillip realized, a little too late, that his hand had lingered, his fingers trailing lightly down her cheek. Dropping his hand quickly, he cleared his throat and looked away, his skin prickling.

“Waverley.”

Her voice was so soft, he could barely hear it. Struggling to bring himself to look at her for fear of what he would see in her eyes, Phillip clasped his hands in his lap. “Yes, Rosalyn?”

“Is that… is that something you want for yourself?”

“Yes.” The answer came swiftly, his eyes turning to her without hesitation now. “Yes, that is absolutely what I want, though whether I shall ever gain it, I cannot say.”

The intensity in her eyes trapped him in her gaze, the sweetness of her smile like honey on his tongue. They shared not a word as Phillip’s breath grew faster and faster, the urge to say something, to confess the truth to her, began to burn hot in his chest.

“Rosalyn, I must tell you...” Closing his eyes so that he might find some sort of sense in his thoughts so he would know what to speak, he felt her hand touch his again.

With a start of surprise, he opened his eyes to see her leaning towards him, a faint pink in her cheeks.

He could not think. He could not speak. All he could see was her, his breathing now coming to a shuddering stop as he gazed into her eyes.

“Phillip.”

It was the first time she had ever said his name aloud, and it felt as though the sun had burst through the room and shone down light and heat upon him.

Opening his eyes, he grasped her hand tightly with his own and let the other lift back towards her cheek, desperate now to find some sort of closure to this strange twisting, turning conversation between them.

“My dear Rosalyn,” he rasped, her skin like silk beneath his fingers. “For many a year, I have felt – ”

“Rosalyn?” The door flew open, and Phillip, in a single second, had not only dropped his hand from her face but had leaped to his feet, just as Lord Fairchild rushed in.

He did not so much as glance at Phillip but instead went straight to his sister, sitting down in the space where Phillip had been.

“Goodness, you have come in like a whirlwind!” Lady Rosalyn exclaimed, as her brother grasped her hands. “I am well, brother, truly.”

“Why are you here? Why was I sent for so urgently?” he asked, throwing a glance towards Phillip but then looking back towards Lady Rosalyn. “Where is Lady Isobella? Has something happened?”

“The refreshments, my lord.”

Phillip nodded, grateful that the maid had brought about a gentle interruption to Lord Fairchild’s rush of questions.

“I thank you. Now, Fairchild, I can only apologize for my footman, for if he told you to come here with great speed and frightened you in that, then that was not what he ought to have done.”

Lord Fairchild released Lady Rosalyn’s hands as Phillip moved to pour the tea so she would not have to.

“He did not say with any great urgency, no, but that I was needed here as soon as I was able. However, the fact that Rosalyn is here, alone rather than with Lady Isobella told me that something was wrong. Is it about the painting?” He looked at his sister again. “Are you sure you are alright?”

“I am.” She smiled, then looked up at Phillip as he set the tea down in front of her. “Waverley was very good.”

The softness in her voice made Phillip’s toes curl, aware that the conversation between them had not yet come to any sort of conclusion though, of course, that could not happen now.

Turning away, he strode across the room and poured two small measures of brandy, assuming that Lord Fairchild would be grateful for one.

“Then why are you here?” Lord Fairchild asked as Phillip handed him one glass. “What happened that made you come here?”

Phillip listened carefully as Lady Rosalyn explained what she had seen.

Lord Fairchild’s face went sheet white, only for color to slowly climb back into his face as Lady Rosalyn stated that they could not be at all sure what the purpose was behind such a conversation and mayhap she ought not to have had such a great fright over it all.

“No, I think you are right to be suspicious,” Lord Fairchild, as Phillip sank into a seat, looking from his friend to Lady Rosalyn, his gaze lingering upon her. “That does seem very strange indeed.”

“Though it has no bearing on Lady Catherine,” Phillip reminded him, as Lord Fairchild grimaced. “That is why Rosalyn came to me rather than to you, my friend.” The warmth in his heart grew. “Because she cares for you, wanting you not to be overly troubled when it comes to the lady.”

“That does not matter at present.” Lord Fairchild dismissed that particular concern with far too much haste, waving it away as though it were of no concern. “What matters now is whether or not Lord Coates was the one responsible and, if so, where he has put the painting.”

Lady Rosalyn sighed heavily. “I was sure that Lord Whittaker was most likely the one responsible, but Lady Isobella is certain it could not be, and she is close to the family, so I do trust her judgment.”

“Then we look to Lord Coates,” Phillip stated, unequivocally, trying to center his mind on that rather than on what he had so very nearly shared with Lady Rosalyn. “And somehow, we not only seek to discover if he did steal the painting but also for what purpose.”

“And where he put it,” Lord Fairchild muttered, before taking a sip of his brandy. “He was the last one to leave your townhouse, was he not? So why did none of your staff see him leave with it?”

Phillip blew out a breath of frustration, feeling as if they were coming up with more questions than answers. “And even in this, it might well be that he is not at all responsible and we have made an error in judgment,” he said, scowling. “But what else can we do but seek out the truth?”

“The truth must always be uncovered,” Lady Rosalyn said, a sweetness in her tone which set a fire in Phillip’s heart again, “for it can change so many things, can it not?”

“Indeed,” Phillip answered, giving her a long look and praying that, very soon, they would both be able to speak in private again. “And in this – as in so many other things – I am determined to find it.”