She felt like she was back at finishing school with the other girls talking over her and never listening to her. A deep breath did little to clear the feeling. Still, she had to make her brother understand.
“If you’d allow me to explain,” she began but paused when Winston shook his head again.
Hurt speared through her as his dismissive expression. While she and her brother hadn’t been close, she liked to think they’d been moving in that direction since her return. Surely he’d allow her to share the details of what had happened and why.
“Philip has always been kind to me.” She tried to think of what to say that would help her brother understand.
“And you repay that with this crazed scheme? I’m very disappointed in you, Eliza.”
She briefly closed her eyes, the words ringing through her memory. How often had her mother said that same phrase to her? Disappointed that she’d gotten crumbs on her dress, that she’d mussed up her hair, that her curtsy hadn’t been graceful enough.
“Winston, please. If you’d listen—”
“I’m going after Trentworth to make certain he’s not angry with me.” With a disgusted look at her, he added, “I’ll speak with you later.”
Later. Never first.
Her brother’s choice shouldn’t surprise her when it mirrored all the other people in her life. She didn’t come first to anyone. Still unworthy of love after all this time. The changes she’d tried so hard to make over the past few years were of no consequence. They hadn’t changed who she was at the heart. That person wasn’t enough. When would she learn to stop trying to be someone she wasn’t?
She wiped at her tears as she hurried to her bedroom. The hurt on Philip’s face had shattered her. She’d made a terrible decision when she’d tried to help him see her differently. Clearly, she couldn’t trust herself or anyone else.
Chapter Twenty
Philipdidn’tbothergoingto his club. He didn’t want to see anyone let alone talk. Besides, Winston would probably look for him there. He only wanted to be alone. What better place to go than home?
Everyone else was out this evening at one event or another. He poured himself a drink in his study and sat before the fire, wishing the flames could warm the inside of him as they did the outside.
To think Eliza had tried to trap him in such a manner seemed callous and unlike the person he thought her to be. He was still filled with disbelief.
Had she been required to act on the...what had she called it? Oh, yes, theFor Better or Worseagenda. The name was apt if their intent was to trick unsuspecting men into marrying them. Was proceeding with it a requirement for membership in their book club? An initiation of sorts?
He frowned as he finished his drink and rose to pour another. Had Bolton been a victim of the scheme? It seemed likely given that he’d married the group’s founder. Yet there was no denying his happiness. He and his wife acted completely enamored with one another. They were one of the reasons Philip had reconsidered what was possible in a marriage.
Philip wished he knew who else was a member so he might see if they’d recently married. And whether they were as blissfully happy as Bolton and his wife.
The thought had him slowing his pace as he walked back to his chair, reconsidering the situation and his reaction. The study door opened, startling him.
Markus strode into the room only to halt, staring at him in surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“It’s my study.”
“Yes, well, I thought you were out.” He continued walking toward the sideboard where crystal decanters stood neatly in a row. “I only came to drink some of your whiskey.”
“You could’ve had one of the servants bring you a glass.”
“Yes, but they don’t bring the whole bottle, which is what I need this evening.”
“Why is that?”
Rather than answer, Markus poured himself a drink then walked slowly to where Philip sat. He leaned an elbow against the other wingback chair but didn’t sit and took a drink. “I would ask you again to,” he paused, nearly grimacing, “pleasegive me the money to pay my gaming debt.”
“No.” Philip was in no mood to consider his request. His cousin needed to sort out the matter on his own.
Markus shook his head as if irritated but not surprised by Philip’s response. “I fear the situation has become more dire than I predicted,” he added.
His appearance was rather disheveled with his hair looking as if he’d run his hand through it numerous times, his tie askew, and his shoes spattered with mud.
Sympathy welled within Philip. Yet he couldn’t help but think of Markus’s behavior with Eliza and what might’ve happened.
