“I kissed you because a part of me wanted to. A part I have tried to squash since I met you. I cannot be faulted for that. You are maddening… But I must be punished for acting on my impulses the way I did. That is what I want you to understand. That is why I came here tonight.”
Anna didn’t understand anything, but it felt good to know that Philip’s affections had partly been true—that hehadwanted to kiss her just because he liked her.
“I… I wanted you to…” Now it was her turn to struggle for words. “I am not sorry that the kiss happened. I am sorry that it happened the way it did.”
She could swear she saw relief flash in his eyes in the dark.
“I see,” he said.
“Do you?”
“Yes. But I also fear that you are only saying these things to make me feel better about my behavior. I would not put it past you to lie to spare what remains of my self-respect.”
“I have never lied to you. And I will never lie to you so long as we know each other, which I hope is a long time. So tell me that you have come to speak with my father before anyone is hurt. You must know he is planning a duel.” Anna inched closer, not satisfied with his silence. “I heard him say so to my mother. And he cannot have organized it without your consent, so?—”
“It is to be held in a few hours at St. James’ Park.”
The confession knocked the air out of Anna’s lungs. She stumbled back, her foot catching under a tree root. Philip reached for her, holding her steady.
“I thought it would be days,” Anna murmured, shaking him off. “Why would you agree to something so quickly? How did you…” She grabbed the collar of her nightgown, wringing it in her hand. “You came to say your goodbyes. You came seeking an apology because you intend to go through with it.”
“Anna, enough.” Philip stepped closer, forcing her to look up at him. “You are right. It had been my intention to go through with the duel. I was the one who suggested it. The consequences of what I had done were clear to me the moment I kissed you. That is not to say I had ever planned to compromise you—I would sooner burn than do anything that puts you in harm’s way again.”
“At least a bullet to the head will be a quicker death.”
Philip ignored her. “The only way I saw fit to redeem you was with a duel, but that does not mean I truly wanted to kill your father. I could do it, but I wouldn’t. I thought about exiling myself abroad, or…” He shrugged. “But that would leave you no better off than before. And I must make right what I can.”
“It isn’t your place to help. You have done enough.”
“No, not enough. That much I realized when your cousin rushed to Charleton a few hours ago and woke my sister from her slumber, banging on the front door like a wild animal. He told her everything that had happened at the Ratleys’, everything I intended to do. And Elinor… I saw the pain in her eyes. And as dangerous as it is to look upon you, I see the same pain in yours too. I cannot bear it.” He looked away. “If I left or died… It was selfish of me to have even considered those alternatives as a solution to our problem.”
Anna thought fondly back to Elinor. She had suffered so much already. Losing a brother would have broken her. She was glad for that reason, and many reasons, that Philip seemed to have reconsidered the duel. A glimmer of hope sparked in her chest. She didn’t dare dream of what other solutions he had come up with.
“You and I have not known one another very long,” Philip continued, lowering his voice further. “And because of this, you might not know that I have never intended to marry. I have known from the outset that I would be a poor husband, that I had no desire for children or the lifelong company of a woman. It has not shocked those around me. The duchy is something I have inherited with scorn and spite, and when I die, it shall be my great pleasure to see it passed on to some distant relative. Marriage had no place in the life I wished to lead. And it still does not.”
Anna nodded, even though her hope had all but died. “Then why are you saying all of this?”
“Because I have been shown that my perception of marriage was flawed. At its core, it is but the legal joining of two people who need to share nothing except a name and confidences. If I were to take a wife, and if it were clear to her what my expectations were from the arrangement, then there would be no requirements for children or companionship.
“We would be free to exist as two separate beings. She would have access to my wealth—I would give it to her freely—and to the protection that comes from being a duchess. And I would be free to continue my life as I have wanted, without the scrutiny of my sister or those around me for remaining single.”
It sounded like legal jargon to Anna, but she thought she understood what he was implying. Had George and Elinor bullied him into this? Asking for her hand in some perverse version of a marriage to save them both?
“You are suggesting… Are you asking me to be your wife?”
“I am saying that it would be an agreeable solution to the situation at hand. You would acquire a husband of rank, understanding meanwhile that his past is not spotless and that he will not give you children or companionship.”
Companionship.He’s using that word so he doesn’t have to say ‘love’.
Her heart panged at the realization. Philip liked Anna enough to desire her, to kiss her, to tolerate her as a wife even—but he would never love her.
“So, yes,” he continued. “I am asking you to be my wife because I believe it is in our best interests. And because if I had to marry any woman, it may as well be you.”
“As a punishment?”
“I beg your pardon?”
A sad, disbelieving smile played on her lips. “You said earlier that you had come here to be punished for your transgressions. So it wouldn’t just be a solution for you. Marrying me would be your just dessert for kissing me earlier.”
