The butler led him toward one of the drawing rooms. The fire from inside cast moving shadows on the wall of the corridor. Two voices cut through the silence of the night.
Philip burst inside, breathing hard from the exertion. The door slammed against the wall behind it, causing George to rise from his seat and start backing away. As if Philip could attack him with Elinor watching. And shewaswatching from her perch by the window.
“Philip. How kind of you to join us,” she said, her face contorted in disappointment.
Philip marched toward George, but Elinor put out a hand to stop him.
“Do not blame him for trying to save you. The only person who must atone for their actions tonight is you.” She stood in front of him, forcing him to reconsider. “And you will atone, by my hand. I will not allow you to forsake that poor girl, no matter what it takes.”
CHAPTER15
Anna pulled her robe around her, warding off the chill from the open window by her bed. They had returned from the ball three hours ago. Her parents had shouted at one another for at least an hour before retiring. Their words had echoed through the walls all the way to her room. She hadn’t gleaned much from their argument, only that a duel would be held in the coming days, despite her mother pleading with the earl to reconsider.
“He is a rake, an army man. He has both the determination and the aim to kill you—and you would still lay your life on the line for your honor?”
“The duke will see the error in his ways when my pistol is directed at him, and he will reconsider. And if he does not, then may God have mercy on our souls.”
“Talk to him. There is still time. Go to see him and strike a deal for Anna’s hand. You managed it with Lord Ashwicken. Think of what you could gain. Your grandchildren would be heirs to a duchy. Oh, Heavenly Father. It is as He says. Do good to those who hate you?—”
The sound of something falling, smashing, and her mother’s cry.
“He does not hate me. He does not respect me. If he did, he would already have asked for her hand. Trust that he will have learned respect by the time morning comes… One way or another…”
At that point, Anna had clamped her hands over her ears to avoid hearing the rest. Philip didn’t care about her enough to send himself to the gallows on her behalf. And her father had too much to lose in this life to shoot him out of anger. The duel would end like most of them did—as a parenthesis in the rags the next morning. But it didn’t mean the prospect didn’t frighten her half to death.
“And where does that leave me?” she thought aloud, resting her chin on her knees.
She curled her toes into her bedsheets, wishing she had never attended the Ratley ball, had never sung at the opera, had never met?—
She couldn’t finish that thought.
Something had clipped against her window. She crawled toward it, worried an animal was trying to climb inside. Her fingers curled around the frame as she pushed the sash into place, the cold breeze from outside snaking into her hair and chilling her bones.
A whistle sounded from below, but it was far too late for birds to be singing. She peered out the glass into the gardens outside. A man stood there, staring up at her. He stepped forward on the grass, moving past the row of yew hedges by the house into the faint light from the moon.
“Philip,” Anna whispered, not believing her eyes. She narrowed her gaze, scared that she was dreaming—or worse, that the duel had already occurred and gone wrong, and Philip’s ghost had come to haunt her. “Are you?—”
“Come down,” he whispered back, looking around him. His voice was hoarse, as if he had been shouting, even at that low volume. “Now, Anna.”
The longer she waited, the more chance someone would spot him. Closing the window, she slipped off the bed and grabbed her slippers from the ball. The cold floorboards bit into her bare feet as she made her way onto the landing.
She hurried through the house to the back doors, grateful to find them unlocked. The door creaked open, and Anna cringed at the sound it made. Looking over her shoulder, she made sure she wasn’t followed as she exited into the night.
Pausing by the doors to fasten her shoes, she gasped as a shadow moved toward her in the darkness. The familiar clean, almost medicinal smell of Philip reached her first. He took her by the arm and pulled her further into the garden, crossing the lawn quickly until they were hidden by the trees at the border of the property.
Faint light emanated from the gas lamps around Grosvenor Square, revealing his face to her in half-darkness. He was wearing the same clothes as earlier, with a long thick coat draped over his shoulders. His hair was disheveled, and his face looked gaunt and pale from the stress of the evening.
Anna didn’t know what to ask first. She was overwhelmed with relief to see him and held back the urge to throw herself into his arms. They stood close beneath the canopy of branches overhead, and the intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on her.
The last time they had been so close, he had taken her hand, and no one had been around to see.
“I would beg your forgiveness for drawing you out at such a late hour, but I fear it is the lesser of my transgressions this evening,” he began, humor lacing his voice despite the seriousness of the subject matter. “I do not know what to say to explain my earlier actions. Should I tell you that I am sorry?”
“Only if that is how you truly feel,” Anna said. “I will not accept your apology if you only intend to pacify me with it.”
“If either of us were such a deft manipulator, we would not be in this mess. Iamsorry. But not because I…” he trailed off, looking over her head toward the house. “I do not want you to believe that I kissed you because I wished to use you for my own gain—whatever it may have been. The moment took me off guard. I wanted to help you, and yet…”
He stopped, and Anna could hear his breathing quicken.
