Being the most powerful of forces on earth, love was more than capable of dictating his actions. And he was willing to accept that.
That he looked on that conclusion with utter equanimity surely ranked as one of the biggest revelations of the night.
CHAPTER12
The chatter about the breakfast table that morning was noisy and vigorous. Addie was determined to keep her wits from wandering off, to meander in delicious aimlessness through her memories of the night. And the early morning. A very large part of her mind was enthralled and wanted to examine and scrutinize each and every aspect of the remarkably heated engagements, but she couldn’t afford to allow such absentmindedness to show. Not before Dickie. Or Phillip, either!
Or even Nicholas.
He was the only one likely to guess the source of her distraction, but she wasn’t at all sure she wanted him to know how deeply he and the pleasures he’d wrought had ensnared her.
Her safest way forward was to keep her mind unrelentingly focused on all they needed to accomplish that day.
After revisiting and confirming the bare bones of their plan of how to manage the handover and the retrieval of the letters, Addie turned her mind to their immediate next step. She pointed her butter knife at Phillip. “You need to go across to the Place as soon as we’ve finished breakfast. I’m sure Viola will be expecting you, and you need to explain about us and prepare her to meet us.” Raising her piece of toast and marmalade, she added, “We’ll follow half an hour later.”
Phillip’s resistance was etched on his face. “I’m not sure—”
“We can’t simply turn up on her doorstep, Phillip. Not if she knows—as I’m sure she does—how matters stood between you and the family before. She’ll need to be warned that things have changed.” Inspired, Addie added, “It’s the first step you have to take so that we can welcome her into the family. Far better she meets Dickie and me first so she can see with her own eyes that we’re not ogres and that we’re not going to cut her.”
She beamed at Phillip. “The best way to convince her that—once we deal with this matter—all will be well going forward is for her to meet and get to know us. Besides, she’s as involved in this situation as anyone—indeed, she’s the one most under threat. She deserves to know what’s going on.” Addie tipped her head. “She might even have some insights that we lack and would be happy to have.”
With the matter couched in such terms, Phillip had no real choice but to agree.
After cleaning his plate, he patted his lips with his napkin, then fastidiously laid it aside. He nodded to Addie, Dickie, and Nicholas and rose. “In half an hour, then.”
Addie watched him leave with a firm and steady stride, smiled contentedly, and crunched her toast.
* * *
Half an hour later, Addie stood on the path leading to the front door of Styles Place and surveyed the house. Two stories, built in dressed limestone with a leaded roof and tall chimneys, the residence exuded an aura of quiet prosperity, respectability, and gentility.
The many-paned windows gleamed, especially those in the three bay-windowed turrets that decorated the first floor, one jutting above the wide front door and one in the middle of each wing to either side. All the stonework was in pristine condition, as were the roof and chimneys. The garden beds flanking the path and stretching to either side along the front façade were full of roses and other flowering bushes, kept neat and trim, but not overly manicured.
Viewing the house and garden, the appearance of which suggested that Viola Styles was a competent and careful mistress, Addie felt reassured. All she could see augured well for the future of Aisby Grange.
Eagerness mounting, she stepped briskly down the path. With Nicholas at her back and Dickie ranging beside her, she walked to the wide front door and waited while Dickie pulled the bell chain.
A distant clanging ensued, and a moment later, footsteps approached on the other side of the door.
The door opened to reveal a stately yet not-at-all-condescending butler. He smiled pleasantly. “Can I help you?”
“Good morning,” Addie replied. “I am Lady Adriana Sommerville. This”—she flicked a hand toward Dickie—“is my brother, Richard Sommerville, and this”—she waved her hand over her shoulder—“is Mr. Nicholas Cynster. We’re here to meet with Mrs. Styles and our brother, Lord Phillip Sommerville.”
The butler looked quietly delighted. “Indeed, my lady.” He bowed. “If you will come this way, the mistress and Lord Phillip are in the drawing room.”
With a graceful inclination of her head, Addie walked into a cool tiled hall, not overly flowery but with definite feminine touches to soften the hunting scenes hanging on the pale-lemon walls. Dickie and Nicholas followed her inside.
After closing the front door, the butler led them to an open double doorway on the left. Curiosity welling, Addie consented to being ushered into the drawing room, a pleasant, rectangular room with windows overlooking the front garden and a large fireplace in the center of the wall opposite the door.
Phillip was standing before the hearth. As they appeared, a lady rose from a nearby settee to stand beside him.
The butler announced them, but Addie’s attention was all for the lady. On the shorter side of average and just a touch plump, Viola Styles looked to be about thirty years old. Her hair was a pretty brown, drawn back, anchored in a bun, and puffed out to form a frame about her face. That face belonged to someone with a sweet nature, yet there was an air of character, of quiet resolve, in the steadiness of the lady’s soft blue gaze.
Indeed, with respect to Viola Styles, the word “soft” rang in Addie’s mind, but even more notable, at least to her, was the resemblance to her own mother—the lady Phillip had been so furious with his father for marrying.
The observation only made her more inclined to welcome Viola Styles with open arms.
With a genuinely delighted smile lighting her face, Addie went forward. She held out her hands. “Mrs. Styles. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
