“I was sorry to hear Lady Charlotte wasn’t feeling herself and hope she’s much improved.”
Graham sighed. “I fear she’s still grieving. She often suffers physical ailments, which I tend to believe are the result of her future being upended.”
Philip understood exactly how she felt. He didn’t like to think of her suffering when she’d genuinely cared for his brother.
“She’s feeling better this evening,” Graham said, though the statement lacked conviction.
In that moment, Philip realized he couldn’t choose her as his bride. Bedding her would be impossible when she’d surely be thinking of Oscar. The idea was enough to make him shudder. It would have to be one of the other two sisters then.
Thinking of either of them as his wife tightened the hard ball of dread in his stomach. He pushed aside the thought, telling himself he was being dramatic. He hoped none of his inner turmoil showed on his face.
The situation was becoming insufferable.
His aunt and uncle entered the ballroom. Uncle Herbert looked between him and Oxley then gave a nod of approval. That only made Philip feel worse.
Philip valued his uncle’s opinion. But in this regard, the expectation his uncle placed on him made him feel as if he were choking.
The thought had him tugging at his tie and clearing his throat.
“Is all well, Your Grace?” Oxley asked with a frown. “You look rather pale.”
“I’m fine,” Philip managed. “I just need a breath of fresh air. If you’ll excuse me.”
The lord nodded.
Philip didn’t look to see if his aunt and uncle were approaching but moved forward. He needed a moment to collect himself and contain his unease. It was odd how the feeling had been growing in the past week or two. Clearly, selecting a wife was more difficult than he’d expected.
As quickly as possible, he rounded the dance floor and moved toward an open door on the far side of the room. By the time he walked through it, his heart was racing and his palms were damp. He drew in deep breaths of the cool evening air, shifting his focus to his surroundings to try to calm his thoughts.
He had always been the carefree brother. The charming one who focused on friends and fun rather than responsibilities. He wasn’t equipped to dedicate his life to duty. He shifted his shoulders, feeling as if he might snap in half under the weight of his changed world.
Not for the first time, a spear of anger shot through him. Anger at his brother for dying. Anger at his father for doing the same. How dare they leave him alone to wade through the expectations surrounding him.
He blew out a breath, tipping his head back to stare at the night sky. A few lone stars were visible in the dark expanse, barely bright enough to see, as if the inky blackness were smothering their light. That was how he felt beneath the heaviness threatening to overpower him.
“Your Grace?”
He closed his eyes at the quiet feminine tone, willing whoever it was to go away.
“Philip?”
The use of his given name and Eliza’s voice had him turning to watch as a shadow emerged from the garden. “Are you all right?”
His anger fell away as quickly as it had come.
“Eliza.” He glanced behind her but saw no one. “What are you doing out here?”
A shaft of light from a ballroom window briefly illuminated her face before she continued forward, and the shadows claimed her once again. “I needed a moment to collect myself.”
He waited to see if she’d add more. Her statement made no sense when it seemed as if she had the world at her feet. She was young, beautiful, and intelligent. No one expected her to do or be anything she hadn’t been taught. How difficult could her life be?
As if sensing his question, she gave a nervous laugh and gestured toward the ballroom. “I suppose I’m still not comfortable in situations like this.”
“A ball? Do you fear no one will ask you to dance?” He’d meant the question as a jest but realized she was truly worried. Was that why she’d asked him for the favor? His heart pinched at the thought.
“Something like that.” She shook her head even as she bit her lower lip. “What of you? Did you need a moment as well?”
“Yes.” He looked away, not wanting to try to explain when doing so would only make him sound like an ungrateful lout. Poor me. I’m now a duke, you see, and I have to learn to properly manage a fortune and numerous holdings.
