Her eyes fluttered wide and her porcelain white cheeks were colored by a blush of poppy red, which in all honesty, did make her even more lovely. Caught off by the repetition of his invitation done so publicly, Phyllis seemed to hesitate for a moment. She was aware of her father’s proximity. Sensing the opportunity to press the matter, Alexander continued to gaze at her with a polite, yet insistent expression. Meanwhile, her father, observing the interaction, raised an expectant brow, awaiting his daughter’s response.
He offered her his arm and she got up, resting her hand on it. Despite her outward agreement, there was a flash of anger in her eyes, a subtle signal that her compliance to do so was not a genuine one. For some reason, Alexander loved seeing how her mask of politeness disappeared for that one, brief moment. He could see the real Phyllis, the woman made of flesh and blood, with her own desires, hopes and dreams, her own disappointments and refusals. Still, she was her father’s daughter, and the society they lived in demanded a daughter’s obedience.
Alexander, however, remained composed, acknowledging the delicate dance of societal expectations that both bound and separated them. The walk through the gardens, though outwardly an agreeable affair, held an undercurrent of tension, marking the beginning of a courtship that seemed destined to be fraught with complexities.
With a forced smile, Phyllis acquiesced as she held onto him, silently already having agreed. “Certainly, Your Grace. A walk through the gardens sounds delightful.”
As they strolled through the meticulously tended gardens, the air became thick with an unspoken tension. Phyllis, seething with an anger she struggled to conceal, maintained a veneer of civility. Alexander walked alongside her with a polite yet guarded demeanor. Joyce, who had been hastily appointed as a chaperone, trailed behind, her presence an attempt to uphold the proprieties of their society. The rustle of the leaves and the distant hum of bees seemed to underscore the strained atmosphere enveloping the trio.
As they meandered through the garden, Phyllis struggled to contain her mounting frustration. The duke’s attempts at casual conversation grated on her nerves, and each polite remark seemed to tighten the coil of her simmering anger. Despite her best efforts to maintain composure, the façade of politeness cracked beneath the weight of pent-up emotions.
“Do you enjoy solitary walks through your own garden?” he wondered.
She frowned. “You mean like the one you prevented me from having this morning?”
“I suppose so,” he nodded. “Only.. let me ask you, what sort of a host would I be if I allowed my guests to be bored out of their wits while in my own home?”
“Did I seem bored, Your Grace?” she wondered, refusing to turn and look at him. It was enough to have to listen to his voice.
“You seemed lonely,” he remarked.
Anger flared up inside of her. “You have nothing to base that assumption on,” she said as calmly as she could. “And for your information, I was not. I was merely enjoying a moment alone. Don’t you do that?”
“The most beautiful flowers rarely blossom alone,” he said, once again in that irksome effort at being charming. When she turned to him, he had that same practiced smile from the previous evening.
Biting back frustration, she retorted. “Your Grace, comparing me to a flower may be poetic, but I am not here for your amusement or to serve as a decorative addition to your life. I am a woman with thoughts, desires, and aspirations beyond being an ornamental part of your courtly landscape.”
He was obviously taken aback by what she had said, but he still tried to salvage the situation with a conciliatory tone. “Miss St. Clair, I meant no disrespect. I only sought to express my admiration.”
However, Phyllis was no longer willing to tolerate the condescension veiled in compliments. “Admiration should be rooted in understanding, not superficial comparisons.”
“But that is exactly why I am here,” he explained. “Whyyouare here, so I can get to know you and share more substantial compliments than the mere superficial ones.”
Phyllis didn’t appreciate this response. Her frustration was now reaching a boiling point. She wanted to be home. She wanted to be alone, away from all this nonsense. Without even thinking, she seized upon the vulnerability that lurked beneath the duke’s polished exterior.
“That is not really true, now, is it? I am here for something else…your financial troubles, Your Grace,” she challenged, her voice carrying a sharp edge. “Is this courtship merely a means to alleviate your burdens, with little regard for the partner you’ll have to share them with?”
Alexander, his expression hardening, retorted defensively. “Miss St. Clair, perhaps it would be prudent for us to cease this charade. A marriage built on such doubts and suspicions is doomed from the start. There is no foundation for a union between us.”
At that moment, he turned around from her. Taken aback by his abrupt dismissal, Phyllis hesitated. A second lasted a small eternity inside her mind, as the weight of her sister’s tearful face flashed in her mind, a poignant reminder of the consequences their actions could have on those they care about.
She had seen the pain caused by the rigid expectations of society. Her sister wept over her desire to marry the man she loved. She had closed herself in her room, crying herself to sleep until Phyllis had finally assured her that she would accept marriage to this man. But the closer this moment came, the more hesitant she was, until the duke had finally pushed her away. This was when she realized that her sister’s happiness truly mattered more than anything else, even her own.
“Wait…” Phyllis called out through clenched teeth.
Realizing the gravity of the situation and unwilling to let Alexander walk away, Phyllis placed a gentle hand on his arm, halting his retreat. They stood in the secluded corner of the garden, where the potentially prying ears of their chaperone wouldn’t catch their words. No one could know about this.
She was still cautious and uncertain about all of this, but there was no other way out. Would he even understand if she told him everything? She couldn’t know until she tried.
“Your Grace…” Phyllis began, reverting to their formal addressing, as her voice carried a note of earnestness. “What if we were to approach this differently?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “How?”
She swallowed heavily before continuing. “What if we feigned a courtship?”
CHAPTERFOUR
Alexander, intrigued yet skeptical, regarded Phyllis with a furrowed brow. She even caught herself off guard with her words. The proposal was unconventional, to say the least, but the potential to bring happiness to her sister and, in turn, mitigate the societal constraints they faced was a tempting prospect.
