A knock on the door had him turning to see his Uncle Herbert in the doorway. “Philip, do you have a moment?”
“Of course.” He gestured toward the chair before his desk, welcoming a distraction from his thoughts.
“I wanted to see if you’ve decided with which of the Graham sisters you want to proceed.”
Proceed? As if this were a business matter and not his heart.
A lightheaded feeling overtook him for a moment. His heart? Was that true?
“Lord Oxley approached me yesterday when I was at the club and asked if you’d mentioned your plans.” His uncle smoothed his fingers over his thick moustache as he waited for Philip to answer.
“I have not.” How could he when he didn’t particularly care for any of the lord’s daughters?
Uncle Herbert nodded. “Understandable. It’s not an easy decision. After all, we’re talking about a serious commitment. The rest of your life, in fact.”
The reminder only made Philip feel more uncertain. Would it be so terrible if he pursued Eliza? She had many attributes he wanted in his duchess.
“I know your father would’ve been pleased with all you’ve been doing, Philip,” his uncle continued with a nod of approval. “From the changes you’ve implemented at the estate to your intention to marry one of Oxley’s daughters, he must be smiling with pride from wherever he is.”
Philip’s stomach sank at the words. How had he thought for even a moment to place his desire for Eliza above honoring his father’s wishes? He felt as if a cinch were tightening around his neck, choking off his breath.
But he’d forgotten that his happiness was of no consequence. Ridiculous of him to have forgotten that.
“I will decide within the week.” Seven days. Surely that was long enough to come to grips with what he needed to do.
“Excellent.” Uncle Herbert turned away only to look back. “I know the last year has been difficult, but your aunt and I are very proud of you as well.”
“Thank you.” They wouldn’t be if they knew what he’d been thinking of late.
At this point, they never would.
Chapter Nineteen
Whyhadhegivenhimself the deadline? Philip wondered for what must’ve been the fiftieth time as one day quickly turned into three. Unfortunately, he had come no closer to selecting which of the Graham sisters would best suit him. Now he need only decide which sister. Lady Charlotte was off the list, which left the other two. He’d conversed and danced with both but didn’t feel as if either would suit him.
The clock continued ticking on the decision, but he couldn’t bring himself to make it, and that was making him miserable.
No. That wasn’t true. The idea of never holding Eliza again was.
A ride in Hyde Park early that morning didn’t help to settle his mind. Frustrated, he secluded himself in his study with orders not to be disturbed.
He paced the room, considering his options.
Despite what he’d told his uncle, he continued to wonder if it would be so terrible to propose to Eliza. Would she accept if he did or was her heart otherwise engaged? That was difficult to believe when she’d responded so ardently to his advances.
If she cared for another, Philip had yet to determine his identity. She’d danced with many others at the balls they’d both attended, but he hadn’t noticed her speaking with anyone in particular. Then again, he’d been careful not to watch her too closely for fear others might notice.
His uncle would be shocked at his doubt about marrying either of the Graham ladies. Philip couldn’t imagine sharing his mixed feelings on the matter.
Then there was Winston to consider. What would he say if he found out how Philip felt about Eliza? Trepidation knotted his stomach at the thought of trying to tell him. It would be difficult if not impossible to explain.
He shook his head as he walked the length of the room again. His goal was to honor the title and his father’s wishes. And if his father still lived, he’d want Philip to fulfill the promise made to Lord Oxley and marry one of his daughters. He knew that better than he knew his own name.
That was it then. That fact decided the matter once and for all. However, it did nothing to improve his spirits.
Was it wrong to wish he felt something—anything—when he was with them? If not a spark, at least warmth that would help him believe that a lifetime together would be bearable.
Perhaps seeing them again would help. The next event when he might do so wasn’t until the following evening. He needed to stay busy lest he go mad with his circling thoughts.
