“A downpour won’t stop the guests from coming.” Philip glanced at the rain-covered window. “It takes more than a deluge to keep Londoners from an event like this.”
In truth, the drizzle that had fallen all day and now had turned more serious as night fell perfectly suited him. What had started the feeling, he couldn’t precisely say. He only knew he was restless.
Which was ridiculous when he was fortunate compared to many. Granted, the loss of his father and brother had been a terrible blow. But grief alone didn’t explain his current mood.
He tended to think it was the fault of a pair of emerald green eyes. Maybe not emerald. More like the fields in Ireland—fresh and vibrant. Those two words could be used to describe Eliza in every way. At any rate, the lady had him thoroughly unsettled.
He’d been fine with choosing one of the Graham sisters to wed until Eliza had reentered his life. Now he was questioning that expectation, along with the others that had been thrust upon him and wondering if his life was proceeding on the proper path. If only she hadn’t asked for that favor, he could more easily remove her from his thoughts.
In truth, he had mixed feelings about assisting her. Should he mention her request to Winston? While her brother acted as if he wasn’t concerned about his sister’s future, Philip tended to think that would change once a man began to pursue her.
How far should Philip go to pay her attention? They had to be careful and not cause gossip. In truth, he didn’t think she needed his help. Not with her beauty and fine figure, not to mention what he assumed would be a sizeable dowry. Gone was the shy, insecure girl he’d once known. Few traces of her remained.
Perhaps he should have a word with Winston to be certain arrangements had been made for a suitable amount as it would help encourage suitors.
The thought had him shifting in his seat. He didn’t want to encourage anyone to court Eliza. Few men of his acquaintance were worthy of her. Too many were like Winston, more focused on their own pleasure than being honorable in a manner she deserved.
He nearly scoffed at the thought. The same could have been said of him just over a year ago. Inheriting had changed his path, though he couldn’t say the same for other lords who had taken a title. Many still seemed bent on pursuing what caught their eye rather than seeing to anyone else’s needs. Most were selfish boors as far as he was concerned, and none deserved Eliza. Winston had moments of maturity but needed to step up now that his sister was with him for the foreseeable future.
“May I ask your plan for this evening?” Aunt Eleanor asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“How do you mean?” He was attending the charity ball. That was enough of a plan, wasn’t it?
“Will you dance with each of the Graham ladies?”
He nearly groaned at the thought. Speaking with them at the musicale had been painful enough. Dancing with them as well sounded like torture.
“I suppose that would be best,” he said at last.
“That’s a fine idea. I don’t mind telling you that half thetonis already applauding the attention you’ve paid them thus far.”
Philip frowned, uncertain why he should care what anyone else thought, only to realize that if he wanted to honor his father’s memory and the family’s reputation, that meant wanting others to think well of his actions in addition to himself.
The weight on his shoulders suddenly felt heavier than ever.
“Perhaps you should dance with the eldest daughter second. Dancing with her first or last might place too much importance on it. I wouldn’t want anyone, including her, to gain the wrong impression since you’re still undecided.”
“True. I’ll be certain to dance with other ladies as well.” The idea lifted his mood since it provided an excuse to dance with Eliza in addition to granting her favor. What had his life come to that time with Eliza was enough to change his spirits so quickly when he’d just told himself that she was the cause of his restlessness?
“Excellent idea.”
The carriage slowed and the warm glow of the lights of the Pavilion near Regent Street came into view. The short flight of stairs leading to the three-story stone building was lined with torches and liveried footmen holding umbrellas to assist guests. Well dressed gentlemen and ladies hurried out of carriages and up the stairs to escape the rain.
It would’ve been a fine night to remain home. He could be relaxing in the study with a glass of whiskey. Instead, he was about to become damp and miserable, the latter not just because of the rain. Was it because he was supposed to be selecting a bride or that he was attending a ball where so many would be watching?
Aunt Eleanor studied him from across the carriage as they waited to pull closer, a small smile of understanding curving her lips. “Do try to remember this is for charity. The orphans of London will be better off for us coming out on a night like this.”
“True.” He shrugged to further dispel his foul mood and tried to think of something he looked forward to this evening.
Seeing Eliza was the only one that came to mind.
Before he could name another, the carriage pulled forward and it was their turn to alight.
Soon they were inside, and his aunt stepped into the small room just off the entrance to leave her cloak and straighten her gown. His uncle and cousin would join them later. Philip nodded at a few acquaintances but didn’t approach anyone, preferring to wait until they were fully inside to do so.
“Shall we?” his aunt asked and took his arm to pass through the double doors that stood open to the ballroom.
The high-ceilinged room boasted gold and ivory accents and massive chandeliers that glittered with candlelight. Mirrors lined two of the walls and rain-spattered windows a third.
