The Rogue and the Rival (33 page)

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Authors: Maya Rodale

BOOK: The Rogue and the Rival
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“You are still in love with her,” Emilia stated, filling the silence. Phillip decided to change the subject.
“Emilia, why are you being so kind to me after all I did to you?”
She smiled at him but didn’t speak for a while, and Phillip began to feel sorry that he asked. She probably couldn’t think of a reason to be kind to him and instead thought of twenty reasons why she should throw him out on the streets that very moment. But she surprised him.
“Because even though you haven’t said that you are sorry, I know that you are. Because we’re family now. Because someone has to warn my girls about the scoundrels of the world, and you are an expert. Because it makes Devon happy. All of that, and the fact that you need all the help you can get.”
That last bit was particularly true, and it made him smile.
“I am sorry, Emilia. I wasn’t before, but I am now. I know what it’s like to be kept from the one you love. I’m sorry for the things I did that almost kept you from Devon.”
“Thank you, Phillip,” she said, and he could tell from her voice that his apology really meant something to her.
Goodness and love. Goodness and love . . .
“You know, Phillip,” Emilia said, leaning forward slightly, “I don’t really like Lucas Frost, either. There is something odd about him, now that I think about it. He seemed so possessive of Angela, far too much so.”
“Unfortunately, our opinion of him does not matter.”
“I shall help you win her,” Emilia said decisively.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” he responded warily. “Nor do I like the maniacal look in your eyes. In fact, you look quite like that dragon aunt of yours.”
“Oh hush. If it weren’t for my dragon aunt, you and I would be married now.”
“Touché. Now, just out of curiosity, mind you, what would you do to help me win her back?”
“You will join me for tea at Lady Palmerston’s tomorrow. If you are not announced, then Angela will not have time to hide.”
“You are devious.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Thank you, Emilia. For helping me, and for letting me stay here, and for forgiving me,” Phillip said earnestly.
“I appreciate that. I should also warn you that you are beginning to sound like some brooding sap from a
London Weekly
serial novel.”
“What’s wrong with that? I thought you liked those.”
“I like to read them. I don’t necessarily want to live with one.” Emilia bade him good night and left him alone in the library.

 

Chapter 17
“Are
you sure this will work?” Phillip said, desperately wishing he had a free hand to loosen his cravat. It was choking him. In each hand, he held a bouquet of flowers. The dragon must be pacified as well.
“No,” Emilia said, before turning her attention to the now-open door. “Oh, hello, Groves. I’m here for tea. No need to announce us; we are expected.”
“Lady Buckingham,” the butler intoned. His eternally inscrutable expression cracked for a second, revealing obvious curiosity to see her with Phillip.
“Hello, Emilia,” Lady Palmerston said when they entered the drawing room. She maintained her usual position on her chair by the mantel. “Are you quite yourself today?”
“I am. Why do you ask?” Emilia sat down on the settee opposite Angela, and Phillip sat next to Emilia. He wanted to look at Angela. To be near enough to steal even the slightest touch would undo him. That was not something that needed to occur in Lady Palmerston’s drawing room.
“I just wanted to point out, in case you had become confused, that is not your husband,” Lady Palmerston said.
“I am quite aware. I trust I needn’t perform introductions?” Emilia asked innocently. No, she certainly did not. Phillip finally allowed himself to look at Angela. Her eyes were on him as well. Even with the accusatory and questioning expression on her face, she had never appeared so . . . pretty. Her long, wavy hair was let down, though pulled back with a ribbon. His fingers twitched, wanting to sink into that hair, which he knew was soft and silky.
She wore a simple morning dress in a shade of light blue to match her eyes. The dress suited her so much more than the dull gray ones she wore in the abbey. He could easily imagine her in the drawing room at Aston House. There it would be just the two of them.
His gaze dropped to the neckline of her gown. Though modest, it still did not conceal the luscious curves and swells of her breasts. He forced his gaze back to her face. Even he knew that now was not the time to be ogling her figure like a barbarian.
“Introductions are not necessary,” Lady Palmerston said. “Phillip, what on earth are you carrying?” It was only then that he remembered the two bouquets he held.
“Flowers. Obviously. For you, Lady Palmerston,” he said handing her a collection of purple hyacinths.
“Have you hit your head?” she asked, accepting the flowers and nodding in approval.
“I did, in fact,” Phillip said, at the same time that Angela said, “He did.” They looked at each other with half smiles.
“Hmmph,” was Lady Palmerston’s response. “Thank you, Huntley. You have managed to surprise me.”
“These are for you,” Phillip said, handing the other bouquet to Angela. It was an assortment of different-colored roses. The florist had tried to explain their various meanings, but Phillip was too impatient. He took a few of each: pink, white, yellow, red. Angela hesitated a second before accepting them.
“How are you, Angela?” Phillip asked once the butler left to put the flowers in vases, and once it was clear that no one else was going to initiate a conversation. That, and he did not have the patience to endure a discussion on the weather when he was finally with Angela again.
“Fine, thank you. And you?”
“I’m well.”
A maid entered with the fresh pot of tea, as well as the two vases of flowers, which were set on small tables on either side of the drawing room doors. After everyone had tea to their liking, Phillip asked if Angela had any news from the abbey.
“I have, actually,” Angela said, and her eyes lit up just a bit. He had said the right thing! He realized then that he, of all people, was the only person in London who knew of her old friends, and that she probably missed them. “Everyone is well. William enlisted in the army. He said it was far preferable to his other option, which was joining the clergy.”
“I’ll say,” Phillip agreed strongly.
“Of course
you
would. Oh, and the repairs to the chapel have been completed.”
“Thank goodness they managed without my help. I was worried about that,” he deadpanned. He had to joke because he so very badly wanted things to be like they used to be.
“Oh, like you did anything other than stand about with your shirt off,” Angela retorted.
“It facilitated all the heavy lifting I did. Besides, I didn’t hear any complaints.”
“You didn’t stay around long enough to hear them,” she said pointedly.
“That is true. And considering the companions—and I use the term loosely—that I left with, I would have gladly stayed and endured endless complaints about my naked chest. Or compliments, but we needn’t argue over word choice.”
“Well, who did you leave with?” Angela asked, setting her teacup down on the saucer with a clink. “And why?”
“Pierre and François, two of the filthiest, most ignorant brutes humanity has ever produced.”
“You left me for
that
?”
“They had followed me on behalf of another stinking Frenchman, to whom I still owed money, which I was not aware of. Rest assured, I will now read the fine print on contracts, particularly about interest on a loan.”
“But you didn’t have any money, or had you lied to me?”
“I didn’t lie. I didn’t have any money, which I pointed out to them. In their sick and twisted minds, they thought that
you
might be a fair trade for the thousand pounds I owed.”
“Me? What could they possibly want with me?”
“You do not want to know of such things.”
Her cheeks colored, and he could not read her expression. Some mixture perhaps of horror as she comprehended and relief, and yet still resisting forgiving him.
“No need to thank me, I know you are grateful,” Phillip said casually. “Fortunately for both of us, I have a very wealthy brother who takes an enormous amount of pleasure in lending me money for the sole purpose of mocking me endlessly about it.”
“Is this true, Emilia?” Angela asked.
“It is,” Emilia answered. “And Phillip has endured Devon’s taunts admirably. I myself have been tempted to hit my husband a time or two, having to listen to it.”
“I, as well. Though I have not,” Phillip said.
“Hmmph,” Lady Palmerston said to fill the silence, and Angela knitted her brows together in thought. Phillip’s heart beat a little bit harder. What did she have to say, now that she knew the truth? She parted her lips. Phillip held his breath. She opened her mouth again, to take a deep breath. He saw the color rise in her cheeks, and he braced himself for the explosion.
“You might have
told
me! You could have at least said
good-bye
. But no! You propose and then simply walk away as if nothing had ever happened.”
“I wasn’t given a chance to say good-bye. I asked. I tried. But I came back, and you had not waited for me.”
“I was supposed to wait for you? Really?
Really?
After what I had been through and after all the other women you had walked away from, you really thought that I would believe anything other than the worst? Really, Phillip,
really
?”
“I wanted nothing more than to explain everything to you. But by the time I returned, you were long gone, without leaving word of where you had gone. You left me, Angela, as much as I left you.”
Obviously, she had not seen the situation as he did. Her only response was a choked sound of frustration. That, and chucking a teaspoon at his head. Phillip had been expecting that, so he ducked, and it went sailing past his head, hitting the wall behind him, and cracking the glass in a picture frame before clattering to the floor.
She was adorable. He loved her. This was the happiest moment he’d had since he last saw her. She cared . . . and cared enough to throw things at him, even if it was only a teaspoon.
“Do you think we ought to give them some privacy, Aunt?” Emilia murmured.
“Yes.”
“Well, are you coming?” Emilia said, after standing to go. Angela stood as well.
“Oh, no. I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Lady Palmerston stated. She remained comfortably in her chair, with a grin of pure amusement on her face. Angela had stood, so Phillip did, too, and she was now advancing upon him.
“But you returned anyway, Phillip. What changed? Or are you just here to complain about the drawing?”
“I’m here now because after nearly a year of pure misery and missing you, I gave up trying to stop loving you. Because I could finally find you again thanks to that illustration. I’m sorry that I left, sorrier than you’ll ever know. But it couldn’t be helped. You, however, fled at the first opportunity. You can apologize any time.”
“
Me?
Apologize? To you? Have you hit your head again?”
“No, but not for lack of trying on your part.”
She looked around the room then, and he knew that she was looking for something else to throw at him. He took a step back. Cowardly, perhaps, or an act of self-preservation. She smacked him on the arm anyway.
“You can thank me, too, for using my likeness to portray the villain in your drawings. I won’t sue, though I could use the money,” Phillip said, taking another step back. He was teasing her, teasing out her anger, so that she could stop being mad and start loving him again. But he, too, was hurt and angry.
He had always been the first to flee so that he wouldn’t be the abandoned one.
And the one time he had loved and hoped and tried, his worst fear was realized. She had left him anyway. It was amazing he was here at all.
“Oh! You are impossible!” She took another step forward, and he took another step back, until his back was up against the wall. It reminded him of the first time he had tried to walk alone on his injured leg. When he had fallen on top of her, and when he had almost kissed her. He smiled at the memory. It seemed to make her angrier still.
“That’s all that brought you to town, isn’t it! Poor Phillip Kensington—always misunderstood and maligned in the papers. You are a horrible, selfish, shallow man, and if you ask me—” She punched him squarely in the chest. It didn’t hurt in the slightest.
“I tried to tell you that I was horrible, selfish, and self-centered, but you wouldn’t believe me.”
“I’ve learned my lesson,” she said dryly.
“But you also accepted my marriage proposal, so now I am y
our
horrible, selfish, self-centered man, soon to be hus—”

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