“I thought so.”
“That is not the issue,” he said at last. “She does not want this. And I will not be the man who traps her into a life she despises.”
“Are you certain she despises it?” Philippa asked. “Or are you assuming she does because it is easier than hoping she might want it with you?”
He looked back at her sharply. She met his gaze without flinching.
“You are not as cold as you think you are. And she is not as reckless as you pretend she is.”
George ran a hand through his hair.
“I do not know how to reconcile duty with whatever this is.”
“You do not have to decide everything tonight.”
“I feel as though I do.”
“You do not,” she repeated. “But you do have to stop punishing yourself for wanting something more than obligation.”
He stood. She rose as well and stepped closer.
“Thank you. For today, and for your discretion.”
“Whatever happens,” she said quietly, “I am glad it is her.”
He met her eyes.
“So am I,” he admitted, surprising himself with how true it felt.
Philippa squeezed his hand once before letting go.
“Just do not wait too long to realize what you want,” she said. “Some mistakes are made by doing nothing at all.”
George left the room with her words following him, heavier than any reproach. George encountered his grandmother later that morning, where she sat with her correspondence laid out neatly before her. She looked up as he entered, her gaze sharp enough to assess him at a glance.
Her attention shifted almost immediately past him.
“Well,” the Dowager Duchess said calmly, setting aside her papers, “it appears you have not yet come to your senses.”
George stiffened.
“I was not aware that I lost them.”
“The girl is unhappy. That much is obvious.”
“That is not your concern,” he replied.
“It is precisely my concern,” his mother said. “This arrangement was meant to stabilize the household, not create further unrest. I warned you that this match was ill-considered.”
“You warned me because it did not align with your preferences,” George said. “That is not the same thing.”
“You are confusing sentiment with judgment. A duchess must be suited to her role. She must strengthen the family, not distract from it.”
“And Sylvia would do that?” he asked. “By what measure?”
“By every measure that matters,” she replied. “She understands expectations. She understands restraint. She was raised for the position.”
“And Lady Cassandra was not,” George said. “That does not make her incapable.”
