He felt his own character questioned under her onslaught of bravery, the shame of his words in the carriage the other day in such opposition to her boldness. It intrigued him, such a trait. A woman who could take on all the world and win.
Less brave women had always defined his life. Both Gretel and his mother had been melancholic women and they had dragged him down with them even if they had not meant to. He was turning thirty-three next birthday, and he was unfulfilled. In that way Willa and he were very alike.
He also knew that he had made a mistake on the trip back to London the other day with his words and so now he was much more careful.
‘I am not Lionel, Wilhelmina. I can at least promise you that. I am also not looking for a quick dalliance that means nothing.’
He could not touch her, not here, he could not feel the racing pulse at her throat or trace the outline of her lips. He could not kiss her but he could make a promise and he could keep it.
‘Thank you.’ Her simple words spoke volumes.
Bringing his glass up, he clinked it against her own, but as he drank he adjusted the fit of his trousers by moving slightly, because if his words were measured his body’s reaction was not. He felt eighteen again and in the first flush of sexual desire when everything was possible and nothing was out of the question.
And yet everything was. Marriage. Love. A future.
When the music stopped Miss Arabella Montague came over to them.
‘Next week I shall be departing for France, Lord Elmsworth, for a sojourn to the south coast. As I am away for a few months I hope I may even venture into the north of Italy. Have you been there?’
‘I went to Paris once a long time ago.’ Phillip noticed how she ignored Wilhelmina. ‘But in fact, my travels around Europe have been very minimal.’
‘Florence is a city I have seen a great many drawings of and to simply walk through the arches of the Piazza Della Signoria or across the Arno to the Palazzo Vecchio seems like a dream. But I suppose you felt that way, too, about some of the American cities with their architecture and landscapes.’
‘I did.’
He kept his answer concise because he could see Willa getting ready to walk away and, short of reaching out to keep her beside him, he could do nothing to stop her departure. When Arabella laid her hand across his arm he knew escape was going to be difficult.
‘I am sorry for your troubles the other night, my lord. I have heard it all over the ballroom that it was footpads who waylaid you outside White’s and it makes me wonder what on earth is happening. Is nowhere truly safe?’
‘It seems not, Miss Montague, so I would advise even more care in the streets of foreign cities.’
She frowned at those words and Phillip hoped that might mean she would move away. Instead she leaned forward. ‘Would it be too forward of me to ask you for the next dance, Lord Elmsworth?’
Her smile was genuine and she looked very young, and besides, Wilhelmina had already gone, swallowed up by the sea of other guests.
‘Of course, Miss Montague.’ There was nothing else he could do without causing question.
Phillip Moreland was leading Miss Arabella Montague out onto the floor and the quick anger that arose in her was very soonreplaced by another thought. Any gossip about his injuries was only one side of this evening. People may have noticed her and the Earl dancing together at the various balls over the past weeks and it was important to allay any lingering public question about their relationship if she wanted the privacy she hoped for.
She was a free agent and so was he. They had no demands from outside sources or prior agreements but she did not wish for the extra attention that Society pressure might bring.
She had been honest and he had been, too. Much more honest than any other person in her life had ever been. There was strength to be had in that and also pleasure. She would not be ashamed but she was also exhausted from the whole evening.
She wanted to be home, away from prying eyes and measured words. Away from truly beautiful young women as well with their unblemished pasts and dazzling futures. This was Phillip Moreland’s world and she had no claim on anything more than the shared delight they had spoken of.
She went to find her hosts to say goodnight, the small, fragrant bunch of gardenias tightly clutched in her hand.
Chapter Nine
The following morning Phillip sent a note to Wilhelmina asking if he could call upon her after the noon hour. Receiving a reply in the affirmative, he then sat at his desk in the library trying to think of what he might say to her.
Just past the hour of one he was ushered again into her blue salon in Russell Square and by the same butler he had met a few days prior. He was pleased the house seemed quiet and that the servants he had caught sight of on his first visit were nowhere to be seen today.
She was standing by the mantel dressed in a white gown decorated with small blue sprigs of flowers. Her hair was bound in a loose way and fashioned low on the back of her neck.
When he shut the door behind them he felt like Eros, the trickster God of carnal love and sensuality. She looked nervous, so he came straight to the point.
‘I would never hurt you. I hope you know that.’
