“Of course, there is no need to introduce you and Alicia.”
“You presume too much, George. His Grace might have gone to great lengths to forget about me,” Alicia joked, kissing him on the cheek like they did in the continent, and making him feel nothing but trepidation as her lips met his skin. “I am only teasing, of course. How lovely it is to see you again.”
Philip wished he could say the same. But with George’s eyes fixed intently on him, he felt like a schoolboy undergoing a test. One he could only fail at.
“You have the right of it,” he directed at George, looking over his shoulder toward the boxing club. To Alicia, he said, “And of course, I remember you, Miss Walford. Our paths have scarcely crossed in recent times, it’s true, but your cousin has kept me updated on your life—as is his way.”
Which was to say,Your cousin is a great gossip, and now seemingly an aspiring matchmaker.
Philip looked at George, trying to determine whether or not their meeting that day was an accident. It seemed unlikely that George had heard Philip would be at the club that afternoon and had laid a trap for him. Unlikely, but not impossible.
An awkward silence stretched on. Being in Alicia’s presence made Philip feel exactly like he used to when he was around her—uncomfortable, ill-fitting. Like he didn’t have anything to say and didn’t want to bother trying to come up with a topic anyway.
George cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should do something, the lot of us, so that she might update you herself. A little outing, for old times’ sake.” He thought for a moment then clicked his fingers. “We could attend a show together, now that the Season is underway. You read theTheatrical Inquisitor, Alicia. You must know something we could watch.”
“Certainly,” Alicia said, smiling politely. Despite the time she had spent on the continent, her expressions were decisively English. “But I was hoping to give the playhouses a wide berth for the next few months. I doubt I shall be well received by the impresarios and theatre managers of London for quite some time, even as an innocent spectator.”
“Has something occurred?” Philip asked, not missing the troubled look that passed between the cousins. His mind flashed to Anna and her disappearance the night ofTancredi. “Some reason you must keep your distance?”
Alicia paused for emphasis, sighing. Ever the performer. “Only the little thing of my quitting the show. All shows, that is.” She shrugged. “I am giving up my singing career.”
The news shot through Philip like a bullet. There were few immutable truths in the world. He had thought that Alicia being a singer, living for the limelight, was one of them.
“That is… unfortunate to hear.” For reasons he was not going to clarify when George was within earshot. “I had thought they could not tear you away from the stage for anything in the world.”
“Things change,” Alicia replied. “People change. My love for the opera is as strong as ever, make no mistake about it, and perhaps there will come a time when I return to that life. For now, I am looking for something new, closer to home. It has worn on me impossibly to be so far away from my family for all these long years, from old friends…”
There was a plaintive glint in her eyes that Philip endeavored to avoid.
“You of all people should understand, Your Grace. You have come back to England despite your successful career in the military. The war has ended, you will say, but I have heard that many officers remained on the continent after building new lives for themselves there, taking foreign wives, or having developed a taste for the culture in other ways.”
“Such officers had the freedom to remain,” Philip said, a hard edge to his voice.
She was trying to read him, to equate their circumstances. But quitting the stage was nothing like giving up a career in the military because the end of the war, blissful though it was, had forced him out.
“Such is not the case for me. I am duty-bound to my family, to Wells, and to England in many ways.”
“Then youdounderstand.” She cocked her head. A charming if ineffective gesture. “The sacrifices one must make for family feel sometimes insurmountable. And yet there is no point in dwelling on the past—or on a life that could never be. We should move onto new things, both of us. Take the ton by storm like we used to.”
She was skirting around the wordtogether, but Philip heard it all the same. He decided that anything he said would be misconstrued as agreement. And so he said nothing.
“Well,” George interjected, breaking the silence, “there will be plenty of time for storms and such later. Perhaps we could call around, Phil, about that show?” When Philip merely nodded, he grabbed Alicia by the arm. “Come now, Alicia. His Grace likely yearns to return home.”
“Of course, cousin.”
But Alicia dug her heels in when George tried to pull her along, turning to Philip before he could leave.
“But there is something else. Not a show. I am hosting a small get-together in Richmond later this week, at the home of a good friend,” she continued, getting her words out quickly. “It will not be a large affair. George is going, as well as Lord Stockton, but otherwise singers will be the main guests. People from my company. It will be a chance for me to say goodbye to them properly. If you would like to come and mingle, you would be more than welcome. Might I send you the address?”
Philip couldn’t refuse her without insulting George right to his face. He didn’t owe Alicia anything, but he couldn’t risk ruining his friendship with her cousin.
“You can send me whatever you wish,” he said, not committing himself either way.
“Thank you.” She beamed with delight, holding on tightly to George. “I look forward to your reply. It was so lovely to see you, Your Grace. And I hope that our paths cross again before long.”
CHAPTER8
Alicia’s invitation arrived without delay the following morning. Philip looked down at the handwritten letter on his desk, her looping script not-so-cordially inviting him to a large flat in Richmond owned by one Lady Gwash.
