Chapter 3

“ I THINK THEY’RE GONE,” Philomena whispered to Henry. She didn’t know what else to say. At some point the couple had exited the room and she couldn’t remember noticing it. But it seemed a pertinent fact to bring up, being that she was still tucked away under his pulsating body. Normally she had words for her friend, nice, normal words, but the library seemed to be suffused with some weird tongue-tying fumes this evening.

The adorable, heavy man still straddling her grinned up at her.

“Mina—”

Panicking, she covered his mouth with her fingers. She had no idea what he was going to say. But no words seemed better than any possible words she could predict. What was he thinking? What was he thinking about her? What was she thinking? There was no future between them. Henry’s mother wanted him to marry one of the three ladies she had hand-selected for this house party, and Henry had already given his word to his mother that he would let her choose his wife. If he felt honor-bound to propose to her now, she would never forgive herself. If they were truly as good friends as she thought they were, they could get over this. This was nothing. Just friends…exploring…another avenue of friendship.

And it would always be friendship.

Philomena wanted a marriage based on love. And this…well, she really didn’t know what had just happened. Emotions were still storming and settling. She needed to think things over without him…over her.

“Let’s…um…just go back to the party.” Even she didn’t believe that suggestion was a good one.

Henry scoffed, causing his stubble to rub against her fingers still glued to his lips and chin. Muffled sounds tumbled out.

She didn’t want to risk it so she kept her fingers in place. It only took a gentle clasp around her wrist, and a slight tug, to pull them away.

“Mina—”

“Don’t say anything.”

He grinned at her with an odd look in his eyes. “I have to say something.”

“Please, Henry. Can we just talk tomorrow instead?”

One of his brows drooped in disappointment while the other rose in curiosity.

“Please, Henry.”

“All right. Let’s talk tomorrow. But, if you think I can nonchalantly return to the party after this, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Fine. I don’t think I could go back either. Off to bed with us, then.” Realizing what she had just said, she felt a hard, fast blush rush into her cheeks.

“Really?” Henry’s smile pulled on her heart. But she roped it back in.

Was he amused again?

“You know what I mean.”

“Let’s get up then.”

He stood and helped her to her feet. He crushed her into a swift embrace, kissed her temple, and said, “Tomorrow.”

***

TOMORROW, BEING TODAY, LUCK was squabbling with fate. And fate was winning. It was just not meant to be for Philomena to find a moment alone with Henry. But maybe that was luck after all.

Gertrude, the dowager duchess, had prearranged moments for Henry to visit with each of the three eligible ladies, including Paulina— an event which included Philomena. It wasn’t proper for the couples to be entirely alone, so Gertrude determined that Philomena would tag along as a chaperone.

A chaperone to her sister on an outing with the man she loved. Fate or luck? It was yet to be decided, she supposed.

“It’s too bad our friend Juliet couldn’t make this party.” Paulina was making small talk, and Philomena just realized she hadn’t been listening.

“Juliet? The one we found hiding behind a ficus that one time?”

“Yes, that’s the one. She’s so lovely.”

“Perhaps that’s why she wasn’t invited. Too much competition?”

“I wouldn’t call hiding behind plants competition.” Paulina chuckled. “But you’re probably right. We might have gotten carried away trying to matchmake someone with her. I’m sure she’ll find someone soon. Just like you.”

“Like me?”

Paulina motioned to be quiet. “What excuse should I make up?” Paulina leaned in and whispered into Philomena’s ear as they approached the spot they expected to find Henry in the gardens.

“What are you talking about?” Philomena hissed back.

Paulina nudged her in the ribs. “So you and Henry can be alone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Of course she knew. Although they were sisters first, they were also friends. They had discussed Philomena’s obsession—infatuation, nay, interest—with Henry at least a few times over the years. If not a few times in a single day over several years.

“Mina, are you really going to act like that? Or are you going to tell me what happened?”

“N-nothing happened.” She stumbled over her words and a tree root at the same time.

“Stop.” Pauline tugged on her sister’s arm. “In a minute or less, we’re going to find Henry in the garden waiting for a prearranged visit with me, and you will be acting as the chaperone. Tell me you don’t want that to happen.”

Philomena dared not look into her sister’s eyes. Instead, she focused on her sister’s skirts skimming the ground. She was so close to having what she had always wanted. What was holding her back?

What if last night meant nothing to him? What if it was all in her head? If they never addressed it, she could keep the fantasy alive. If they addressed it, and he admitted it was a mistake, all her dreams would float away on a cloud. It would be far too unreasonable to cling to any hope in the face of such blatant rejection.

And if anything, Philomena was reasonable. Which meant…she needed to face Henry.

Staring straight ahead at a row of bushes, which Henry was likely standing behind, Philomena lowered her voice. “Tell him you’ve turned your ankle.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Philomena finally glanced at Paulina. Given the situation, Philomena should have been the one bearing the glittering grin, but it was Paulina.

“I might.”

“You might later or never?”

“I might tell you. I haven’t decided.”

“Oh, Mina. You think too much. I hope he ravished you like we’ve read in The Way of a Wanton Woman .” Paulina poked her shoulder, and, as if it were a button, redness crept into Philomena’s cheeks.

“Oh he did, didn’t he?” Paulina clapped her hands over her mouth. I’m so excited for you was what Philomena interpreted through the muffled sounds.

She grunted in reply.

“It was that good, was it?”

“Paulina, please.”

“Don’t worry, if there’s a scandal, we’ll get cousin Quinn involved.” Paulina shook her head in reproof. “Oh, there are just too many people missing from this party.”

“What will Quinn do? He’s just a colonel.”

“He’d shoot someone for you, I’m sure. Or at least threaten to.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Philomena chided. “Besides, it’s not like he’s a duke. He can’t just get away with murder.”

“You’re right. But he would make a good duke, wouldn’t he?”

“Paulina, what are you talking about?”

“Well, I thought you wanted to avoid our other topic.” She paused. “The one about you being ravished.”

And just when Philomena thought her cheeks had returned to their normal shade and temperature, they were right back to flaming hot.

“We can’t walk up to Henry if I’m as red as an apple.” Before Paulina could interrupt with a placating reassurance that Philomena did indeed not look like the tempting fruit, she plodded on. “And you know I look like one. Don’t deny it. I can feel it, you know? That’s the worst part. I don’t want it to be there. I’m not embarrassed, per se…Yet still, this ridiculous physical reaction occurs.”

“You look beautiful,” Paulina whispered with a smile.

“Thank you.” Philomena returned the grin. “All right, it’s safe to forge ahead. Let’s go.”

So it was that Philomena and Paulina rounded the shrubs to find Henry standing there with the largest grin on his face.

“Paulina, I’m so sorry to hear you’ve turned your ankle.”