CHAPTER 24

Philip's body ached, and a dull throb pulsed through his side, but his mind was elsewhere. He was dreaming about Verity again, as he had so many times since he had been confined to this bed. Her face, her laughter, her touch. They all haunted his thoughts, making the distance between them feel insurmountable.

In his dreams, Verity was always just out of reach, a beacon of warmth and love that he could never quite grasp. He missed her terrible, with a longing that gnawed at his heart day and night. Yet, no matter how much he pined for her, Lady Rosalind was always there in the background, a constant reminder of his mother's relentless efforts to push him towards a match she deemed suitable.

Often, his mother was actually behind Lady Rosalind, actually pushing her towards him, which was unnerving.

"Philip are you alright?" came a voice, soft yet insistent.

It echoed through the haze of his dream, blending seamlessly with the image of Verity. He saw her lips move, forming words he could not quite understand.

"Philip, you are moaning," the voice continued, becoming more distinct, more real. It wasn't Verity's voice. It was his mother's. "Is the pain too much?"

His eye lids fluttered, the dream dissolving into the dim reality of his room. The dull ache in his side sharpened as he shifted slightly. His mother's face came in to focus, her expression flooded with worry.

"Mother?" he groaned as he tried to stir in the bed. "Are you alright?"

"We don't need to worry about me," she chuckled. "You are the one who is struggling."

Philip sighed, sinking back into the pillows. "I am fine, Mother. It's just a dream."

His mother's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them.

"A dream, you say?" she murmured, adjusting the blanket around him with a care. "Anything that you wish to discuss?"

Philip shook his head. "I can hardly even remember it now," he lied.

His mother studied him for a moment longer, then nodded, seeming to accept his response, though her eyes still held a hint of skepticism.

"Very well," she said softly, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. "I am going to the kitchen to get you some food. You need to eat to regain your strength."

"Thank you, Mother," he replied, forcing a smile.

She rose gracefully, her movements efficient and purposeful, and left the room, the door closing quietly behind her.

Philip closed his eyes again, trying to reclaim the fragments of his dream, to hold on to the image of Verity for just a little longer. But the harder he tried, the more elusive she became, slipping through his mental grasp like sand through his fingers.

His thoughts wandered to the last time he had seen her, when he really saw her, before the accident. The warmth of her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, the way her words made him feel. It was a memory he clung to desperately, a beacon of light in the murky depths of his current state.

Minutes passed, though it felt like hours, and soon he heard the familiar, brisk footsteps of his mother returning. She entered with a tray laden with a bowl of steaming broth, a piece of bread, and a cup of tea. The savory aroma filled the room, making his stomach growl despite the pain.

"Please, take a sip of this warm broth, Philip," his mother insisted. "It will make you feel so much better. I have been told by the physician that this is exactly the sort of food you must be eating."

Philip wasn't too sure about that, but at least he was propped up in his bed a little now. Several days had passed and the pain was starting to subside somewhat everywhere else, just not in his side. It had not totally vanished, but he was definitely finding life a little easier.

The nourishing liquid soothed his throat, and he savored the comfort it provided. He was starting to think that he should listen to his mother more often. She did seem to know what she was talking about.

As she pulled the bowl away from him, Philip examined his mother, noticing a softness in her demeanor these days. There was a kindness in her eyes, an understanding that Philip had not seen in years. That helped him regain even more of his strength. He felt like he had a reason to fight, because she needed him to be as strong as he possibly could.

All of a sudden, Adeliade sucked in a deep breath and started to talk in a somber tone of voice that he wasn't expecting.

"Philip, during your period of unconsciousness, you kept saying a name. Over and over again."

"A name?" he murmured back, confused.

"Yes. Lady Verity's name." She nodded to herself.

A flush of embarrassment and vulnerability rocketed through Philip.

He could not believe this. His rawest, deepest feelings were not supposed to be laid bare for all to see. He already knew that this was something his mother would not be happy about, so he wasn't sure how on earth he could defend himself.

The truth shone free when he was at his most vulnerable and now…

But Adelaide surprised him by taking his hands and staring directly into his eyes.

"Philip, I can see now the depth of your feelings for Lady Verity. I understand now, it was evident in every whisper of her name."

Philip swallowed hard. "I… I…"

"I understand that I was the one pushing you away from Lady Verity because of my insistence that you marry someone that I thought was suitable. I did not even bother to consider that you might have fallen in love." She sighed heavily. "My fear of losing you, Philip, it has made me confront everything that I have tried to push on you. Titles over love. A name and a dowry over your happiness. That was wrong of me, I see that now."

Philip parted his lips, but he could not think of anything to say. Nothing felt quite right. He could hardly process the words that his mother was saying to him, much less think of a suitable response. He never thought that this was a conversation that he would have, so he did not prepare for it.

"I am so sorry, Philip," Adelaide continued, her voice cracking painfully. "I thought that I was doing the right thing by trying to control your life. I would love the chance to make amends, if you will let me."

"If I will let you?"

Philip was truly stunned into silence. He could not believe the words that were coming from his mother's lips. He hardly dared to believe any of this. He had long yearned for her understanding and support, and now, in the wake of his brush with death, it seemed that a miracle had occurred.

Just as Philip opened his mouth to respond, Adelaide surprised him once more. "There is actually someone here. Someone who is very eager to see you."

"There is?"

Philip's heart skipped a beat.

He tried his hardest to compose himself but did not have much time as his mother backed away from the room.

There was a smile on her lips that Philip did not recognize. Was his mother saying to him what he really thought she was?

"I have a lot to do now," his mother said tactfully. "And I am sure you would like your privacy."

Philip's heart hammered. He did not know if he needed to be nervous or excited. He wasn't sure how to process what was going to come next. Especially when he wasn't entirely sure what was going to happen next. He let out a little cough and tried his hardest to steady himself.

By the time the door creaked open, he could hardly contain himself. He sucked in and held a tight breath as the face behind the door started to come in to view.

Verity.

He had not dared to hope. Even with all of his mother's hints and the promises to be better, he had not dared allow himself to truly believe that she might be here. But she was, and she looked utterly beautiful as always.

As their eyes locked in with each other, a gentle smile graced Verity's lips.

Time seemed to stand still as Philip gratefully ran his eyes all over Verity. His heart swelled with a love that threatened to consume him. He could not believe that he had been trying to push away his feelings for this woman when what he really should have done was immediately embraced them. There was no fighting this. There was no pushing these feelings aside. They were going to overcome him no matter what he did.

Verity walked far too slowly as she approached his bed side. Or at least that was how it seemed to Philip. All he wanted to do was reach out and touch her. He wanted to hold her hand and to pull her closer to him. He wanted to tell her that he never wanted to let her go.

It was only when she was closer to him that Philip could see her eyes shining with unshed tears as she took a seat beside him. She perched on the edge of the chair and reached out to him, like she could not stand to be too far away from him.

He truly hoped that those were happy tears, and that this was going to be a lovely moment between them both. He had seen Verity upset far too many times and that was something he did not wish to see again. He much preferred to see her smile.

As she reached for his hand, Philip felt a warmth spreading through his body, a sense of rightness and belonging. In that moment, Philip knew that he must seize the opportunity to express his true feelings for Verity, to lay his heart at her feet and pray that she would accept it.

He took a deep breath, his eyes locked on hers, and prepared to speak the words that had been trapped inside him for so long. But before he spoke, he could only smile at her. He just wanted to enjoy this beautiful moment for as long as he could.

Like the calm before the storm.

Verity's fingers intertwined with Philip's, sending a soothing warmth through his body. They sat in silence for a few precious moments, savoring the tranquility that surrounded them. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in this intimate bubble of connection.