“Nonsense. We have all seen how the duke looks at you. There is no comparison. If I were you, I would pay her no mind at all.”
“Then why do you?”
“Because I find her delusions most entertaining. Beyond that, I also get to eat cheese, and you and I both know how much I love cheese.”
“An excellent point,” Jackie laughed. “I suppose you are right. There is nothing for me to worry about.”
Just as she said that, however, there was a scream and the clattering of the plate. They turned to look at what had caused such a commotion only to see Ophelia fall into his arms.
“What terrible luck,” Elizabeth smirked, nudging Jackie. “Truly, such unfortunate circumstances that would lead to her falling perfectly into the duke’s arms like that.”
“Do you suppose that it was deliberate?” Jackie whispered.
“Does the sky tend to be cloudier in October than in June?” Elizabeth replied, rolling her eyes. “Of course it was.”
Suddenly, Jackie hushed her. They were close enough to them that they could hear their conversation and Jackie wished to know what was being said.
“What happened?” Philip asked.
“I was overly excited I suppose,” Ophelia replied gently. “You see, I prepared a picnic for us all, and you know how much I used to enjoy the ones we shared.”
“Ah, I see. Did you bring this for myself, or for Lord Montague?”
“For you,” she blushed. “I would have made one for Lord Montague too, but Lady Jacqueline said she would prepare one for him herself.”
She was a liar, and in that moment, Jackie decided that she couldn’t stand her.
“Very well,” Philip nodded, placing her down. “Now let’s get you back to—”
There was a scream—a wail even—as he set her onto her feet. Philip seemed to instinctively pick her up once more.
“I… I cannot walk,” she stammered. “I must have hurt my ankle when I fell.”
“I can help you over there.”
“Perhaps,” Lord Montague suggested. “It would be better if you take her inside and send for the physician?”
Jackie waited for Philip to hand Ophelia off to his friend while he sent for the physician. He remained still for a moment, and she wished that she knew what he was thinking. Surely, he remembered his promise to her? He had to remember that Ophelia was his past, and Jackie was his future. She waited for him to hand her over, and waited.
But he did not.
Instead, he turned toward the house, and carried her inside. She was in his arms as if she were his bride, and she watched as Ophelia buried her face in his chest, thanking him for what he had done.
Jackie felt her heart shatter.
It was the gentlemanly thing to do, she told herself, but there had been two gentlemen present. There were options besides him taking her away and making it so they would be alone together. She hated it, all of it.
“Are you all right?” Lord Montague asked. “You seem unwell.”
But she didn’t listen to him. That last thing that she wanted was to hear empty kindness from the man who had suggested that Philip take Ophelia away in the first place. She remained unmoved, focused only on the duke.
If only, she thought, The duke could have returned the favor.
Chapter 23
Philip was not a fool, or at least that he hoped that he was not.
It was evident to him that Ophelia had pulled her little stunt deliberately, and he was sure that everyone else in attendance realized the same thing, but he knew what the gentlemanly thing to do was. It did not matter that she was Ophelia, it mattered that she was an injured lady. He simply hoped that Jackie saw it that way.
