“I know, but I do not want to be. You were doing what you thought was best for us, and though it did not happen as I might have liked, I am grateful for you. I should have remembered how much I need you when I saw the scandal sheet.”
“Philippa, it is quite all right.”
“I am pleased, because when I read further on, I remembered just how short our lives are.”
It was sudden, and dark. George looked at his sweet younger sister and wondered how such thoughts had come to her. He knew that ladies knew of death, but it was something they did not discuss. Even when their father had died, the conversation had been short and then never mentioned again.
“Did the sheet mention Father?” he asked. “I will admit, I did not read beyond what was said of us.”
Philippa’s cheeks colored then as she looked at him.
“George, did you honestly not read it?”
“I did not. Should– should I have?”
Her eyes widened, and she reached into her reticule. She brought it out and read it again, as though ensuring that she had not made a mistake. With a steady breath, she looked at him, contemplating whether to tell him or let him read it for himself.
“What is it, Philippa?”
“Lord Willoughby’s father has passed away. Oh– I suppose I should say the Duke of Wetherton now…”
The silence flooded his ears at once. He remembered how his friend looked at the pub, and how he had said they would not discuss what was troubling him until after he had settled things with Lady Cassandra. They were traveling to her now, while hewas alone. The guilt was thick in his throat, but then he felt Philippa tug on his sleeve.
“You are doing what is right,” she assured him.
“He told me to come here. Had I known–”
“And that is why he did not tell you. He wants you to do this, and so we will handle matters here, and then you can be a friend to him. Think of it this way: as it stands, you cannot be a good friend to him, for you are far too occupied with your own misery. We shall get you right, and then you will be better as a friend.”
It made perfect sense, but there was still turmoil in his mind. George wished he was better then and there, so that he could be the man that everyone needed him to be.
But he shook the thought from his mind. He was doing what needed to be done. He was making himself the man that he had to be, and that had to be enough. It would be enough, as long as Lady Cassandra accepted him. She could not turn him away; he desperately needed her not to turn him away.
They arrived, and as soon as they came to a halt he darted out of the carriage and ran to the door.
“I am here to see Lady Cassandra,” he announced when the door opened.
He simply hoped they would let him in.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Inever thought that I would see the day where that awful girl apologized!” Anthea laughed.
Cassandra was not feeling any better, but her friends were doing what they could. That day, she had at last opened up to them about what she had told them about her conversation with Lady Sylvia.
“I for one hope that she groveled,” Sybil huffed, “especially after all that she did to you. Why, had she not been so awful, then perhaps yourself and the Duke–”
Anthea hushed her gently, but it was too late. She had said what they had all been thinking, and Cassandra could hardly blame her for that. They had made an agreement that they would not say his name in her presence, but that was easier said than done.
And it did not stop her from thinking about him. She wished that she could, but he would not leave her.
“Was I unfair?” she asked for what felt like the tenth time. “He did not stop the wedding. All that he wanted to do was postpone it.”
“And that hurt you, so you had every right to do what you did,” Anthea reasoned. “Even so, if you are reconsidering it, then there is no harm in writing to him.”
“I could not possibly do that. You saw what was written by that gossip mongerer. He has been in financial troubles all along, and he was trying to shield me from it. He had not told me that, and that was more hurtful than anything else.”
“He may have had a reason for it,” Anthea tried, but Sybil coughed pointedly.
