CHAPTER 22

"Verity."

Philp's eyes fluttered open as life slowly flooded his body once more. He blinked against the soft light filtering through the curtains of his bed chamber, consciousness creeping back in to his brain.

"Verity?"

He needed to see her, to hold her, to ensure that she was alright. He could not tell if it were real or just the lingering notes of a nightmare that he could not quite shake off, but he hated being unable to save Verity from the clutches of a drunken Ambrose.

"You are nothing compared to me!" Ambrose yelled at Philip in, what he now realized, must have been a terrible dream. "She will never want you when she can have me. Do you not see? Do you not see how tightly I have my arms wrapped around her? You will never be able to hold her like this because she is now my wife…"

Philip needed to rid his mind of these thoughts. It was all too much for him, so he tried his absolute hardest to push himself up into a sitting position. But he did not get far.

A searing pain ripped through his body, pinning him back on the bed. An animalistic groan rumbled in his chest, breaking free from his lips. Philip's hands his hand instinctively reached for the source of the pain, only to find his torso tightly bandaged.

What on earth happened?

Disoriented and confused, Philip took stock of his surroundings, realizing that he was in his own bed chamber, the familiar walls and furnishings offering a small measure of comfort when he was drowning in confusion.

"Philip?"

Until that very moment, he thought he was alone. But as his mother leaned forward with a concerned expression on her face, he realized that she had been sitting there beside him the whole time.

"Mother?"

Her eyes filled with tears of relief and concern as her trembling hand reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Philip's forehead, her touch gentle and soothing.

"What happened?"

"You suffered a concussion," his mother confirmed. "A broken rib and severe bruising from the accident."

"What accident?"

Philip had vague flickers of memory flowing through his mind, but he could not yet piece any of it together. It was all scrambled jigsaw pieces that did not fit together yet.

"The carriage accident." Adelaide's voice cracked with emotion as she spoke. "A few days ago, now. Your horse collided with a low hanging branch, and then a carriage, causing you to fall and lose consciousness. We have had such a terrible few days waiting for you to regain consciousness."

"I am terribly sorry, Mother, I did not know."

A tear slipped down Adelaide's cheek. "Please, Philip, you must listen to what the doctor has said, and rest. You must allow your body to heal or some of this might impact you forever. Your sister… oh, you should see Georgina. She is so terribly worried about you. She has hardly been able to contain herself."

The door swung open, distracting him from his thoughts, and Georgina came rushing in, tears brimming in her eyes.

"Oh, Philip," she cried out as she approached the bed, reaching out to clasp Philip's hand. "Thank goodness you are awake. I was so worried about you. I did not know if I would ever get to see your eyes again. Do you know how worried we have been? It has been dreadful."

As Philip parted his lips, he realized just how groggy and disoriented he was. It was as if there was a fog in his brain that he could not shake off, however hard he tried.

He just about managed a weak smile as a warmth spread through him. "I am so grateful to you both. Thank you for being here and caring about me. Thank you for loving me."

He truly did feel it. There had been so much tension between him and his family recently, so it was nice to push that to one side and to just appreciate the people who were in his life. It would be better if his voice wasn't so hoarse and strained, but he could not ask for too much.

"Oh, Philip, you know that we love you," Georgina laughed giddily. "Of course we do. And we are just glad to see you alright again."

"Don't forget what the physician said, Georgina," Adelaide jumped in. "Philip needs to rest. The best thing that he can do for his recovery is sleep."

Philip was just about to argue that he did not need rest, that he had so many questions he needed answering, but his eyes were growing heavier by the moment, and he knew that he absolutely could not fight it much longer.

"Perhaps you are right," he murmured, but he wasn't even sure if those words were being spoken aloud. "I should sleep."

There was a warmth shrouding him. A joyfulness sucking him back in to sleep. His mind was utterly unable to resist the lure of rest. He leaned harder into the pillow and allowed the darkness to claim him.

Immediately there was one face that flooded his mind. The most beautiful face that he had ever seen. He wasn't totally sure, but he had a feeling that he had seen Verity at the moment of the accident. Those lovely eyes had pierced through him, offering him a moment of warmth in the coldest moment of his life.

Perhaps he had imagined her there. Maybe he just wanted to see her in his worst moment, but he had a feeling that she really was there, caring for him. Philip could almost feel a real smile creeping up on his lips as he focused on Verity.

At least here in his dreams he did not have to keep his distance from her. He could hold her as much as he wanted to.

As Philip drifted deeper in to sleep, his mind wandered into a place where Verity was waiting for him. The familiar warmth of her presence enveloped him, and he felt an overwhelming sense of peace. They stood in a sun lit meadow, her hand gently clasped in his, her eyes shining with a kindness that melted away his pain.

"Philip," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his weary soul. "You must be strong. I know this has been difficult, but you need to recover."

He looked at her, his heart aching with unspoken words. "Verity, I could not protect you. I could not…"

She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "There is nothing to apologize for. You need to focus on getting better."

Philip nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest. In this dream, he could believe that everything would be alright. He could believe that Verity was safe and that they had a future together. He reached across and held her hand, feeling a shudder of delight tearing down his spine. He always felt this way with Verity.Like everything was going to be alright.

Verity smiled softly, her eyes full of reassurance and love. "You are doing so well, Philip. I have missed you so much."

"I have missed you too," he whispered, the words catching in his throat. He leaned closer, unable to resist the pull of her presence.

As he closed the distance between them, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in the beautiful meadow. He could feel the warmth of her breath, the softness of her skin. And then, finally, their lips met.

The kiss was gentle at first, a tender brushing of lips that spoke of longing and unspoken emotions. But as the seconds passed, it deepened, fueled by the passion and love that had been held back for so long. Philip felt a surge of energy, a renewal of strength that seemed to come from Verity herself.

When they finally parted, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other's. Philip looked into Verity's eyes, seeing the same fire and determination reflected back at him.

"You are my strength, Verity," he murmured, his voice filled with conviction. "With you, I know I can overcome anything."

Verity smiled, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "And you are mine, Philip…"

The next time he awoke, the room was full of early morning light. He felt a bit stronger, his mind clearer. He pushed himself up on his elbows, careful to avoid aggravating his injuries.

The room remained silent, save for the occasional chirp of birds outside the window.

"Good morning, Philip," came a soft voice from the doorway.

It was their family physician. The kindly old doctor entered the room, a reassuring smile on his face.

"Good morning, Doctor," Philip replied, his voice still raspy. "How am I faring?"

The doctor sat beside the bed, checking Philip's pulse and examining his bandages. "You are improving, but you must continue to rest. Your body has been through quite an ordeal."

Philip nodded, the weight of the doctor's words sinking in. "How long until I am fully recovered?"

"It's hard to say precisely," the doctor responded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You have made good progress, but you shall need several more weeks of rest and care. Your body needs time to heal properly."

Philip sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation settling over him. He wanted to be up and about, to return to his normal life, but he knew he had to be patient. He glanced out of the window, the vibrant morning light filling him with a sense of hope.

"Thank you, Doctor. I will do my best to rest and follow your advice," he said, determined to recover as quickly as possible.

The doctor nodded approvingly. "Good. Then you will improve quicker."

After being checked over again, Philip watched the doctor leave, a resolve settling in his chest. He had to heal, not just for himself, but for those who cared about him. He could not afford to let them down.

His thoughts drifted back to Verity. The dream had felt so real, so vivid, it was hard to believe it had been just that… a dream. He yearned to see her, to ensure her safety, to hold her in his arms for real. But he knew he had to focus on getting better first. Only then could he confront the realities of his struggles once more.

The door creaked open, and a familiar face peeked through. Georgina's eyes lit up as she saw him sitting up, a look of pure relief washing over her.

"Philip! You are awake again," she exclaimed, rushing to his side.

She took his hand in hers, her grip warm and comforting.

"Good morning, Georgina," he said with a small smile. "I am feeling a bit better today."

"That is wonderful to hear," she said, her voice tinged with emotion. "Mother and I have been so worried. But seeing you like this, it gives us hope."

Philip squeezed her hand, grateful for her presence. "Thank you, Georgina. I appreciate everything you and Mother have done for me."

She nodded, her eyes glistening with tears. "We love you, Philip. We just want you to be alright."

Philip felt a warmth spreading through him as he squeezed Georgina's hand. The love and support from his family were a balm to his weary soul, and he cherished their presence now more than ever.

"Georgina," he said softly, "I need to know what happened. The last thing I remember is... well, Mother said there was a carriage?"

Georgina's expression shifted, her eyes darkening with a mixture of worry and sorrow.

She took a deep breath before speaking. "Yes, Philip. I have heard that it was Lady Sinclair's carriage. You collided with it whilst rising on Midnight."

Philip's heart skipped a beat, his thoughts immediately jumping to Verity. "Was Lady Verity there? Is she alright?"

It did not matter that he was injured. Now he needed to know if she was alright.