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W alking through London ought not to bring a gentleman out in a sweat, but Phillip’s entire body was hot and clammy.

It was the first time he had ventured out into London since his arrival some three days ago, but even now, it felt as though every eye was lingering upon him…

and a fresh darkness coming into every expression as they realized who he was.

Barely able to bear the looks and quite certain there were whispers pursuing him, Phillip quickened his steps, eager now to make his way to Whites as quickly as he could.

There was no need to linger here, no need to stop, nod, smile and even converse with some of the other gentry.

There was no promise of amiability with anyone that he did stop to speak with and thus, Phillip continued on his way with long strides and a head ducked low.

It had been a little over fifteen months since he had taken on the title.

Casting his mind back to that fateful night when the butler had, horrified, rushed out to find him, Phillip shivered lightly.

It had been a night unlike any other, a night when he had not only found himself broken by sorrow and grief but also battled the niggling sense of relief that had come with it.

He had not told his mother of what had happened until the following day, wanting her to rest from the night’s upset before he added to them.

When he had done so, he had seen that same relief in his heart mirrored in her eyes.

They had never spoken of that emotion though Phillip knew, even now, it was there.

He battled it still, hating himself for all he felt, and yet, at the same time, glad now that he could bring the title back into some sort of good standing.

The mud that clung to it still, however, was significant, and Phillip knew it would take a good deal of time and effort before such a thing was possible.

Stepping into Whites, Phillip let out a slow breath as the door was closed behind him, feeling as though he were walking into a sanctuary.

Here, he would be safe from the crowd and, whilst there would be some gentlemen unwilling to be in his company given the poor state of his family name, Phillip hoped he would find some friends here.

“A brandy.” Speaking to one of the footmen, Phillip made his way further into Whites, selecting a chair in the corner where he might sit in solitude.

If anyone wished to join him, they would be more than welcome but Phillip did not mind sitting alone.

After the last eighteen months, his mind felt constantly weighted, he was plagued with heavy thoughts that took any sense of happiness or contentment from him.

Perhaps here, he would be able to find even a little of that.

“Stepford? Is that you?”

Phillip turned his head, a little surprised to hear his old title on someone’s lips. “Lord Mansfield?”

“The very same!” A gentleman he had not seen in some two years shook Phillip’s hand firmly. “Goodness, it has been much too long, has it not?”

“It has been many months since I have been in society, yes,” Phillip admitted, as his friend came to sit down in a chair opposite. “Though I am not Lord Stepford any longer.”

Lord Mansfield’s face fell. “Your father?”

“He died some time ago,” Phillip replied, aware that he felt not even the smallest hint of sorrow upon saying those words. “I have now taken on the title.”

Lord Mansfield’s eyebrows lifted. “So you are now the Marquess of Waverley.”

Phillip nodded. “I am.”

“My congratulations and my sympathies,” came the reply. “I am truly sorry, I had not heard of his passing.” His eyes flicked away from Phillip for a moment, a shade of red touching his cheeks, and instantly, Phillip’s heart grew heavy.

“You had heard of some other things, mayhap,” he said, with a grimace. “Do not be afraid to speak of such things to me, my friend. I am well aware of my father’s poor reputation.” The grimace grew into a scowl. “I just did not realize that it had come all this way to London.”

“I am afraid his escapades have been spoken of in many a gathering,” Lord Mansfield told him, somewhat bluntly. “I am sure that not everything that was said of him was the truth but – ”

“You might find yourself surprised there,” Phillip answered, grimly. “My father was not a good man, Mansfield. The last few years of his life, he became more and more repugnant in his behavior, to the point that I became utterly ashamed of him.”

Lord Mansfield’s lips flattened. “That must have been difficult for you to bear.”

“It was more the pain that he caused my mother that troubled me,” Phillip answered, quietly. “I am well aware that my family name has been quite ruined though I must, now that the mourning period is over, do what I can to improve it.”

“And is that why you are in London?”

Phillip nodded, taking a sip of his brandy.

“What is it you intend to do?” his friend asked, gesturing to the footman to bring him a drink also. “Have you specific plans as to what you ought to do?”

This made a flush draw into Phillip’s chest, spreading up to his cheeks. “Not as yet. But in truth, I could not linger at my estate any longer. My mother has been pale and wane for too long and I had to have her improve in some way.”

“Then she is in London with you?”

“She is.” Phillip bit his lip, then shook his head.

“I think she will fare a good deal better than I, for her friends and acquaintances will know she had nothing whatsoever to do with my father’s foolish behavior.

Though I must confess, I hope that I have not done wrong by bringing her here.

I hope she will not be rejected by the ton . ”

“I am certain she will not.” The encouragement in Lord Mansfield’s voice made Phillip smile.

“Just as I am sure there will be many more than willing to have you in their company, my friend. There will be some unwilling but they need only be ignored for their foolish opinions. You need not fear rejection.”

Phillip winced. “I hope not.”

“And who is this you are speaking with, Mansfield?”

Putting a quick smile on his face, Phillip waited for Lord Mansfield to introduce him to the gentleman who had meandered over, noting that a second fellow was following the first. Lord Mansfield, however, did not smile and certainly showed no willingness to continue the conversation, throwing the gentleman a glance and then rolling his eyes thereafter.

“Lord Hemmingway, good evening,” Lord Mansfield grunted. “If you would excuse me, we are in the middle of a conversation, as you can see.”

“And all I was asking is the name of this gentleman.” The man that Phillip now knew to be Lord Hemmingway gestured to Phillip, though he did not much like the glint in the man’s eye.

“It is not often that I see you in the depths of conversation with only one other! Usually, you are at the heart of whatever is taking place, surrounded by both gentlemen and ladies!”

“I know your face.” The second gentleman gestured to Phillip, though he did not recognize the fellow. “We must be acquainted already though I confess that your name is quite gone from my mind.”

Phillip’s smile grew fixed. Clearly, these two gentlemen brought nothing but trouble with them, and Lord Mansfield was doing his utmost to keep Phillip from that.

“I do not think we are acquainted, actually,” he said, as the first gentleman narrowed his eyes a little.

“I have not been in London for some two years now, you understand.”

The second gentleman opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking away.

“Waverley!”

A loud exclamation made Phillip sit up straight, the brandy sloshing gently in the glass. He could not see whomever had spoken his name and nor could he ascertain whether or not it was meant as a pleasant greeting or something else.

“I am delighted to find you here!” the voice said, just as someone elbowed his way in between the two as yet unintroduced fellows. “I received your letter and did not have time to write to you to say we would be in London also! How good it is to see you again.”

Phillip got to his feet, a wide smile splitting his features as he shook Lord Fairchild’s hand.

At the very same time, the two gentlemen who had been irritating Lord Mansfield took a step back, though Phillip did not miss the way they glanced at each other.

“I am very glad to be in your company again, my friend.” He had not known that Lord Fairchild, one of his oldest and closest friends, would be in London also, though part of him had been hopeful he would be present.

“And thank you for your letters. They have been a great encouragement to me these last few months.”

“Of course.” Lord Fairchild glanced around him, then frowned. “Is there a reason that you are standing here, Lord Hemmingway, Lord Pentland? I did not think you were acquainted with the Marquess of Waverley.”

The two gentlemen exchanged another glance, though Lord Hemmingway smiled in a cold fashion that made some of Phillip’s contentment fade.

“We were seeking an introduction, though now, of course, we need none whatsoever! Everyone knows who Lord Waverley is, I am sure.”

Phillip frowned. “I think you mistake me for my father, gentlemen.”

Lord Pentland snorted and shrugged his shoulders.

“Mistaken or not, we know the reputation of your family. A throwing away of good fortune over foolish, nonsensical things? A penchant for seeking out ladies of the night in as many different places as they could be found? A dark temper, a mean disposition?”

“Tell me, Lord Waverley, do you have any coin left?” Lord Hemmingway asked, with a chuckle that made Phillip’s anger flare. “I am surprised you have two coins to rub together, given all that your father threw away!”

“That is enough,” Phillip answered, taking a step closer to the two gentlemen, with Lord Mansfield also getting to his feet to come to stand beside him. “You will soon find, as will the rest of the ton , that I am not my father.”

Lord Hemmingway laughed. “I do not think it matters the sort of gentleman you are, Lord Waverley. The only thing that matters is what the ton think of you – and I can assure you, it will be very little.”

“It will be more than we think of you!” Lord Mansfield exclaimed, as Lord Fairchild stepped forward in a manner that told Lord Pentland and Lord Hemmingway that they ought to say nothing more.

“Either take your leave or we shall accompany you to the door,” Lord Fairchild gritted out, as Phillip’s hands curled tightly. “There is no need for any of this.”

Thankfully, Lord Pentland and Lord Hemmingway took a moment before turning away, their steps leading them towards the door.

As Phillip watched, however, their heads came close together and one cast him a glance over his shoulder before returning to whisper about him again.

His heart, however, did not flood with relief, as he had expected.

Instead, he found himself worried about all that these two gentlemen had said, afraid that the ton would reject him utterly.

“You need not be concerned,” Lord Fairchild said, as though he had read all that was in Phillip’s thoughts. “You still have friends here in London.”

Phillip nodded. “That is true enough, at least.”

“Though there certainly will be those who do not wish to be in your company, that is certain,” Lord Mansfield said, with a shrug. “We have spoken of that briefly already so I know that you are aware of it. As I have already said, you need not fear rejection, my friend.”

“I thank you.” Phillip caught the attention of the footman to signal for more drinks.

“I do not much like what will be said of me, however. It is a great frustration to know that they consider me to be of the same ilk as my father, and all without having any knowledge of my character! What is there to be done about that?”

Lord Fairchild and Lord Mansfield exchanged a glance.

“Nothing,” Lord Fairchild said, with a sorrowful smile.

“I am afraid to say, my friend, that there is nothing you can do about that and thus, you must now only seek to prove your character in as many ways as you can. Though you will have us friends enough to help you do so.” His expression brightened.

“And I will make certain to bring Rosalyn to you, so that you will have someone to dance with! That will make the other young ladies of London take notice of you, I am sure.”

At the mention of Rosalyn, Phillip’s heart dropped, only to rise up again in a rush. He managed to smile and nod and thankfully, the footman brought over their drinks so the conversation did not need to continue… but Phillip’s mind was centered solely on the lady his friend had mentioned.

Lady Rosalyn was the sister of Lord Fairchild and thus, Phillip knew her well enough given that he and Lord Fairchild had been such good friends.

What he had never once mentioned to Lord Fairchild and certainly had never even thought to say to Lady Rosalyn was that his heart had always held a modicum of affection for her.

It had not been anything severe, had never become anything of note but all the same, Phillip knew it was there.

But I will never be worthy of such a wonderful creature, he reminded himself.

Not after the reputation my family now holds, not after the loss of fortune my father left me with.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he took in a breath and then gave himself a slight shake.

Seeing Lady Rosalyn again would be a very lovely thing indeed, he was sure.

He simply did not need to even think about her in any other way other than friendship, for that was all he could ever offer her.