“Her Grace has left for Linfield,” Mathilde told him. She waited at the door for him. “I had your horse prepared, should you want to follow her.”
Phillip shook his head mournfully, his head still pulsing with the anger he felt toward his uncle. He could appreciate what Mathilde was doing, but it would do him no good to run after Marina. She would not wish to talk to him so soon.
“Your Grace…” Mathilde trailed off though Phillip could imagine what she meant to say. If he were not in such a state, he might have considered going after her, but he had no interest in approaching her while he was still so livid.
All he could think about was that this was not how he had meant for any of this to play out. The Duke never intended to grow so fond of his wife, but he certainly never intended to act socarelessly that he could hurt her in this manner. If only he had questioned his uncle’s prerogatives more harshly or been less laissez-faire about visitors in his home. If only he had spoken to Marina about all of this before Emmanuel had the chance to do so himself.
His mind was a minefield of ifs and buts, but none of it was getting him any closer to what he wanted—reconciliation. Phillip knew that he would never forgive himself for the way Marina had looked as she ran from him the day before.
It was the memory of the pain shrouding her beautiful features that had him in a frenzy. At first. The Duke was determined to give her some time with her family to collect her thoughts. After all, he was well aware that their marriage had been a steep adjustment for his wife. She missed her siblings dearly, and she was likely to throw herself back into caring for them, he thought, and forget to deal with her thoughts about him. It did not matter to him. Nor did the idea which used to terrify him that she might mention his secret to her father. Phillip no longer cared what the ton thought of him. He would find a way to make money with or without a title and support Marina for the rest of his days for what he had put her through, even if it meant that he himself must live like a beggar.
In the end, Phillip could wait no longer than one night to see her. He woke early, had breakfast, and then asked his steward to prepare his horse. The ride provided the Duke with time to think about what he wished to say to Marina when he arrived, but nothing felt adequate. He had spent the entire night bouncing between two roads of thought. That he was innocent because his intentions had been pure, and he was guilty because the instanthe had an inkling that he wanted to be closer to Marina was the instant he should have decided to tell her.
Either Emmanuel had ruined his life, or Phillip had by ignoring the inevitability that the truth would one day make itself known to her. When he, at last, reached the Linfield Estate, the Duke’s heart was thudding painfully against his chest. What happened next would determine both his and Marina’s futures. If he were not successful, he would be responsible for the downfall of the young Linfields, a thought far more difficult to sit with than the idea of his own fall from society.
“What business could you possibly think that you have here?” The Earl of Carlisle hurried into the receiving hall with his steward close behind, his cheeks red and his brow furrowed so deeply that Phillip thought it might get stuck in that position. His anger was palpable, and the Duke struggled to maintain his composure.
“I understand that you are displeased with?—”
“Displeased?” the Earl thundered. “Displeased? One is displeased when his cook does not adhere to a set menu or when his child misbehaves in folly. One is displeased when their drunken behavior is written in the scandal sheets the morning after a lively ball. I could not imagine that you have anything to say for yourself that would appease my current state, Your Grace.”
CHAPTER 38
Marina and Olivia exchanged glances, watching their father bound up to Phillip from down the hall.
“Did you think he’d show up so soon?” Olivia hissed.
“Not at all,” Marina answered quietly. She and Olivia watched the beginning of the conversation unfold, and Marina found herself glued to her spot. She knew that she needed to intervene, but her father’s speech was so impassioned that she second-guessed herself. Were the contents of Phillip’s mother’s journal enough to vindicate him?
She felt her voice stick in her throat as Phillip’s face softened, relaxing into something apologetic. She had never seen him look this way. He bowed deeply, formally, she assumed to show her father his respect before he made his rebuttal.
“Allow me to apologize,” he began, “for the manner in which I have come to address you.” Then his jaw set in a hard line, andhe continued. “As much as I know that I need to make this right between the two of us, I have come to speak to my wife. Marina’s opinion of me is the only one that is of concern to me right now. I have come here with haste so that I might ask for an audience with her. If Marina does not see fit that we speak, then I will leave and come back again. Over and over until she is ready to speak with me. Only then, once I have settled things with her, will I even hope to seek your forgiveness, Carlisle.”
Evedryone in the room stopped, shocked by Phillip’s stern words. They move the Earl to anger, but Marina found herself half-running into the room, her skirts held aloft in her hands, so she didn’t trip. Phillip’s eyes found hers, and he was reminded of the night they met at the ball when she ran away from him in much the same manner.
“You are to leave this instant!” the Earl cried, having not noticed his daughter yet. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him a meaningful look.
“Papa, thank you,” she told him quietly. “Allow me to deal with this.” The Earl looked as if he had more to say, but he retreated at last and left the married couple to speak. He grumbled to Olivia about Phillip as they made their way down the hall, and Marina listened to their retreating steps, her eyes trained on the floor as they went.
“Marina,” Phillip said quietly, taking a step closer. She held up a hand to silence him.
“Let us speak privately in the gardens,” she answered, turning to lead him there. Once outside, Phillip realized that Marina nearly replicated her mother’s garden in their own home. It pained him to think that she now has bitter memories there. She obviously poured so much love and care into the landscaping, and he accidentally allowed the thought of it to become tarnished by falling into a sense of security with his uncle.
When she sat down on a bench, the midmorning light hit her in such a way that Phillip could more clearly see the stain of unrest under her eyes and the pallor of disdain on her skin. His heart sank as he realized the heft of his current endeavor.
“What have you to say?” Marina asked, her voice cool and distant. Phillip sat beside her, careful to keep his distance so as not to make her uncomfortable.
“I have not come here to pander and beg, Marina. You were right to be angry. I can even understand that you needed to seek the comfort of your family after you heard about my parentage. But I?—”
“Your parentage?” Marina’s eyes were ablaze with a fire he had not yet seen in her. “Is your social status and financial situation truly all you think me capable of thinking about? What of my station or my father’s wealth leads you to believe as such?”
Phillip looked taken aback, and this only seemed to agitate Marina’s anger. “Marina, you must understand. When I first decided to keep this a secret from you, I did not yet know yourcharacter or disposition. If I had known then what I do now, I would have been honest with you.”
“And how long have you known better? Phillip, I have asked you over and over again since we were first married to open up to me. I have madeeveryeffort to show you that all I expect from you is an amicable marriage. In order for that to be our relationship, we must have respect for one another and strive to be honest. Always.”
“I agree, Marina.”
“Then pray tell, Your Grace, when did you intend to tell me that you believed yourself to be the Duke’s bastard son?”
