Chapter 6

I T HAD BEEN HOURS since he had seen Philomena. Henry was pacing the drawing room. Guests were mingling and playing cards. Paulina had given him a sly look a couple of times. Obviously, she knew what had happened in the gardens. But she was discreet. He hoped.

When he asked her where Philomena was, she couldn’t say. She merely suggested he check the library. As if Henry hadn’t done so already. Library. Conservatory. Philomena’s guest bedchamber. The only place he hadn’t checked yet was with his mother.

His mother was the last one to have seen her and she had absconded to her bedchamber. Something was amiss. Apparently his mother had a megrim and was not to be bothered. She blamed it on the rain and he couldn’t doubt her. She often claimed that the weather affected her health.

But it was certainly more than just the meager rain dousing the grounds that had thrown Henry’s mood off its normal even keel as he marched onward to see his mother.

Anxious. Huffy. Vexed. So much so that the coin he was smoothing between his thumb and index finger was about to rub away his epidermis. That’s what physicians called the outer layer of skin, wasn’t it? He was sure that was correct. Yet, his brain was not functioning properly.

If this was what happened when he couldn’t determine Philomena’s whereabouts, there was really only one thing to do. Which, after the night in the library, he had already decided. He wanted to marry her. He just needed time to get his mother to agree. He could do it. He just needed…well, he wasn’t quite sure what would convince his own mother, but surely she would bless him knowing that he loved Philomena.

Loved.

Yes.

His coin smoothing stilled. His footsteps froze. Standing just outside the door of his mother’s room, Henry gave himself permission to listen to his heart in full.

Loved.

Yes. He did love her. He had always loved her. As a friend, but even perhaps on a deeper level. He had always cared for her wellbeing and had always loved sharing everything he could with her. He needed to talk to her now. More than when he had needed to show her his coin. What a euphemism that sounded like…

Megrim be damned. He rubbed the lucky coin hanging on a chain around his neck, tucked his new coin in his pocket, and knocked on the door.

Before he heard an answer, he strolled into the room to find her sipping tea by the fire. “Mother.” He stopped in front of her. “Where is she?”

Taking a slow sip, his mother looked up, “Won’t you have a seat?”

“There’s no time.”

“Henry, you sound like a mad man.” She gestured to the chair. “Please take a seat. That’s a good boy. Now, where is who?” A fraction of a smirk crept up and disappeared in a trice.

“Where is Philomena?”

“Isn’t she with the rest of the guests?”

“No. No, she’s not, Mother.” Henry sat on the edge of his seat. “Do you think I’d be here asking you where she was if she was with everyone else?”

His mother slowly lifted two fingers to her temple. “There’s no need to shout.”

“I’m not shouting. I’m demanding. Tell me where she is.”

“Surely I don’t know. I’ve been up here all evening. Perhaps she took a walk.” She glared at him. “Again.”

“So you know what happened.”

“I saw the way you were looking at her. Like a little puppy. She’s not the woman for you, Henry. We agreed that you would let me pick your wife. This dukedom will not be put to shame because you can’t pick the proper wife.”

“The proper wife?”

“Yes. The proper wife. You need someone who knows how to run a dukedom. How to host. How to throw events. Appeal to their guests.”

“Like you?”

Another glare. “Similar to me.”

“Like your marvelous hostessing skills right now?” He shouldn’t have said it. This was not the way to warm his mother to his next declaration.

“Everyone has their weaknesses, Henry. Mine happens to be rain.”

“Yes.” He patted his knees. “I’m so glad you put it that way, Mother. Since you have been vulnerable and courageous enough to share one of your weaknesses, I will do the same. I must confess my weakness. Her name is Philomena. I love her. And I will marry only her.”

His mother gasped. “She will n-not do.” It was the closest to sputtering he had ever heard from his mother.

“She will. She already does. I love her.” Squeezing the arms of the chair, he felt the heaviness seep into his heart. He knew he was disappointing his mother. It was a feeling no child, no matter how old, wanted to have. But some things in life were worth disappointing others for. “I know this will put a strain on our relationship but I do hope you will come around. She’s an amazing woman.”

“I see.” And that was the closest thing to acquiescence that he had ever seen in his mother. It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. But something had shifted in her.

“Please tell me where she is.”

After a short sigh, she said, “I asked her to arrange some flowers in the cottage for me. I told her we were having a special event there.”

“Why would you do that?”

“You needed time with the ladies I had chosen for you.”

“I had time with them.”

“Time without distractions,” she clarified.

“Philomena is not the distraction. She’s the desired object of my attention.” He knew it to be true. How had he not understood it before? It didn’t matter. So long as he was aware of it now, he could act on it.

“I didn’t think she would stay there all this time. I’m actually…surprised she didn’t come back with the rest of the servants.”

“She’s not a servant.”

“I didn’t mean that.” His mother waved her hand. “I just meant that I’m disappointed she didn’t think clearly enough to return for dinner.”

“She probably stayed to ensure everything was perfect. For you. She knows you dislike her. She’s there trying to impress you. And I’m still here.” Henry flew to his feet. “Why am I still here?” He shot a look at his mother. “I’m going to ask her to marry me. And we will marry. I hope it was worth it to have her arrange those flowers for you. In your new place of residence.”

“Henry!”

“We’ll talk more upon my return.”

So much for needing time. So much for thinking of ways to convince his mother of his plans.

Now they would have to figure all that out after the wedding.