CHAPTER 4

Philip did not like this.

He did not like it one bit.

It was hard for him to see the house so lively. His home had become a hive of activity as Georgina's coming out ball spanned out around him, which was truly difficult for him to endure. But he was doing so for his sister's sake.

As he remained at the bottom of the staircase waiting for his sister to arrive, Philip allowed his eyes to wander around the room, to see the members of the ton that he had not for years. His hands twisted anxiously behind his back, but he maintained an air of confidence which he hoped would fool everyone.

Eventually, the music halted, and everyone's eyes darted to the top of the stairs. Philip held his breath as he waited for the double doors to open and for his sister to appear.

This moment needed to go well, it absolutely had to be perfect. First impressions were vital when it came to the ton.

Thankfully, as the doors opened, and Georgina stepped through, she looked absolutely radiant. The violet gown she had chosen cascaded beautifully around her feet, and the curls in her hair fit the style of the gown perfectly. Although it was probably her smile that would be remembered the most. Pride surged through Philip as his sister descended the staircase. She looked like a woman who was born for this, like she knew exactly what she was doing.

As she reached the bottom, Philip took her hand a placed a kiss on her cheek. "You look beautiful, Georgina," he said gently into her ear.

It was only then he felt her trembling.

"I must admit, I am rather nervous, Philip."

"Well, you don't look it," he reassured her, giving her hands a reassuring squeeze. "This evening will undoubtably be a success."

Philip walked Georgina around the room, but unsurprisingly it did not take long for her to be surrounded by a throng of admirers, each vying for her attention. Each asking for their name to be written on her dance card.

It was hard for Philip to take a step back, but he knew that he had to give these gentlemen a chance to make a favorable impression. Luckily, their mother seemed quite happy to make all the introductions which gave Philip a much needed moment of respite.

That was until the music began to play. That was the time that Adelaide had requested Philip and Georgina open up the dance floor. They had both endured many dance lessons through their childhood, so knew how to move across the dance floor with ease and grace, but that didn't make him any more enthusiastic about dancing before all these gawking faces.

As the strains of the waltz filled the air, Philip led Georgina into the center of the dance floor, masking his discomfort with a practiced smile. The room fell silent, all eyes watching their every move.

He could feel the weight of the audience's gaze, but he focused on Georgina, giving her an encouraging smile.

"You are doing wonderfully," he whispered as they began to move in time with the music, pleased to find that she had stopped trembling and seemed to be blooming under all of the attention. "I am truly so very proud of you."

Georgina smiled back, looking so much like the wild, saucy little sister he'd grown up with. "Thank you, Philip. I could not have done this without you."

"No doubt," he teased.

The dance seemed to fly by, a whirl of movement and music, and by the time it ended, Georgina's cheeks were flushed with excitement rather than anxiety.

The room erupted into applause, and Philip could not help but feel a surge of pride.

His sister had handled her debut with grace and poise, and he knew she would make a favorable impression on the ton.

The night was off to a very good start…

***

Yet as the evening wore on, Philip's good mood began to wane. It was hard for him to keep the false smile on his face in the constant stream of congratulations and well wishes on Georgina's behalf. He much preferred a quiet evening alone where he did not have to wear a mask of false happiness at all times. A knot was developing in the muscles of his back, and he longed for a silence and peace of his study.

Georgina was still very much enjoying herself, at least. Philip could tell by the excitable shine in her eyes as she socialized. He was sure that it would not be long before she captured the attention of someone who she enjoyed as well. He realized that he'd been worrying for nothing, and she would soon be settled and safe in a home of her own.

"Ah, Philip, there you are."

Philip cringed inside as his mother caught his arm.

"I have been searching for you. I have some people that I would like you to meet." Her smile was so forced that it made Philip feel a little ill. What on earth was this? "This is Lord Cedric Fitzwilliam and his lovely wife, Lady Daphne Fitzwilliam. And here is his younger sister, Lady Rosalind Fitzwilliam."

Philip's heart sunk. He recognized that name.

It was the woman that his mother had been insisting that he dance with because she would make such a lovely marchioness. Despite his protests, she had orchestrated this meeting, undoubtably trying to make the Fitzwilliam family see that he was the perfect match for Rosalind.

"Good to meet you all," he declared through gritted teeth. "I do hope that you are having a wonderful time."

"Oh yes, this is quite the ball," Cedric replied. Philip could feel Cedric sizing him up, silently trying to work out if he was worth the attention. "Thank you so much for inviting us."

"Oh, Cedric, Daphne, I am sure you want to dance," Adelaide interjected slyly. "And Philip, would it not be a lovely idea to welcome Lady Fitzwilliam by taking her on the dance floor."

Philip wanted to scream.

He could not believe that his mother had gone this far. It was absolutely ridiculous. She was relentless and would seemingly stop at nothing. She had backed him in to a corner, and now he had no choice in the matter.

With a resigned sigh, Philip extended his hand to Lady Rosalind. "Would you care to dance, Lady Fitzwilliam?"

She accepted with a polite smile. "I would be delighted, my lord."

Philip led Rosalind to the dance floor, forcing himself to maintain the facade of graciousness. As the music started, they began to waltz. Rosalind moved with practiced grace, her steps light and fluid, and for a moment, Philip allowed himself to appreciate the ease with which they danced.

"Your sister looks radiant tonight," Rosalind commented, her voice smooth and composed. "It's clear that much thought and care have gone into this evening."

Philip nodded, keeping his tone neutral. "Georgina has always been excited by such events. I am glad she is enjoying herself."

Rosalind's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "And what of you, my lord? Are you enjoying the evening?"

Philip forced a smile. "It's a pleasure to see my sister happy. That is enough for me."

Rosalind studied him for a moment, as if trying to gauge the sincerity of his words. "I understand that you have been rather reclusive these past years. It must be quite an adjustment to be back in society."

Her observation was astute, and Philip found himself reluctantly impressed. "Indeed. It's... different," he replied carefully. "But necessary for Georgina's sake."

Rosalind was undeniably beautiful, but Philip felt no spark of connection or attraction. Instead, as they moved, he was acutely aware of the expectant gazes of his mother and the ton, all waiting to see if the widowed Marquess of Eilendale would finally choose a new bride.

As if it was any of their business.

As they glided across the dance floor, Philip's thoughts automatically drifted to Juliana. The memory of her smile, the warmth of her touch, and the joy they had shared seemed like a distant dream. He remembered the laughter, the shared secrets, and the plans they had made for a future that was cruelly taken from them. The grief was still raw, an ever-present ache that no amount of time seemed to dull.

Why should he be forced to wed again when he wasn't ready? It seemed utterly absurd.

Rosalind attempted to engage him in conversation. "My lord, I hear you have quite the collection of rare books. Do you have a favorite?"

Philip barely heard her. "Yes, I do," he replied vaguely, his mind still on Juliana. He could almost see her there, in the library they had shared, her eyes lighting up as she found a new volume to read. "I have many favorite books..."

Rosalind continued, undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm. "I would love to hear about them sometime. Perhaps you could show me your collection?"

Philip nodded absently. "Perhaps."

The dance continued, and Rosalind's attempts at conversation were met with similar distracted responses. Philip's heart wasn't in it. He could not bring himself to care about the polite chatter and superficial niceties. All he could think about was the life he had lost and the emptiness that had filled its place.

As they moved through the steps of the dance, Philip's frustration grew. The idea of a loveless union, of marrying someone just to fulfill societal expectations, filled him with dread. He longed for a connection, for someone who could understand the depth of his grief and the love he still held for Juliana.

The ton's expectations felt like a noose tightening around his neck, suffocating him.

Finally, the music came to an end. Philip felt a wave of relief as he led Rosalind back to her family. He offered a polite bow, his mind already seeking an escape from the stifling atmosphere of the ballroom.

"Thank you for the dance, Lady Fitzwilliam," he said, his tone courteous but distant.

"The pleasure was mine, my lord," Rosalind replied, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She could sense his detachment, and Philip's heart twinged slightly at having caused this young woman, who had don't nothing wrong, to feel rejected. But what could he do?

Philip bowed and made his way to the terrace, his steps quickening as he sought the refuge of the cool night air. The terrace offered a peaceful contrast to the bustling ballroom. He found solace in the quiet, the distant hum of the party fading away.

He leaned against the stone balustrade, staring out in to the night sky, the stars twinkling like distant promises of hope.