Chapter 10

Ten

T he small study didn't have enough shelves to hide the book Michael knew he'd left there yesterday. He walked around his desk again. Elements of Agricultural Chemistry in a Course of Lectures by Humphrey Davey was simply not there. Michael pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes trying to remember where he last read. Ah, the west sitting room. Despite the paltry number of books on the shelves, his mother insisted on calling the room the library. He'd been reading last night while waiting for news on Miss Lightwood's condition.

Reading had not been a good way to pass the time as focusing on the text proved impossible. What was he to do with the women in the house? Especially women whose names Richard removed from his list because of the reputation of the father.

If Michael was going to help move England forward and effect changes, he needed to be respected in Parliament. Or so he'd been told often enough. His father had hoped the Slave Trade Act passed seven years ago would do more to end slavery than it had. He'd spent his last year urging his fellows that there was still more to do to abolish man's terrible abuse of man. Michael intended to continue his father's legacy. He had to win not just the battle but the war. Being young, others would judge him on every decision. His wife's connections needed to aid him in his fight. Miss Simesson was a much better choice if he couldn't marry a woman whose father had a title and connections.

Michael entered the library. The book in question sat on the table nearest the window. A soft snore interrupted his quest. Miss Philippa's head leaned at an awkward angle, and the book she held threatened to fall from her lap. He recognized it as one of Julia's favorites. He should back out of the room and ask a maid, his mother, or his sister to come wake her. He could retrieve his book first. He stepped closer.

Before he could reach the book dangling from her fingers, it fell to the floor and Miss Philippa shot to her feet. "Oh. Lord Endelton, I didn't hear you." She looked around her feet. "I was reading."

Michael picked up the book and handed it back to her. "Mrs. Radcliff's work I see."

Turning the book cover right-side up, she nodded. "I'd fallen asleep, hadn't I?"

"Sorry for disturbing you."

"I didn't mean—pardon me for taking your time again." She bobbed her head and took a step away.

"How is your sister?"

Miss Philippa traced a line on the front of the book before answering. "She was sleeping when I left the room. She didn't sleep well last night."

"And neither did you?"

"As you see." A smile teased the corner of her mouth. "I managed to fall asleep reading The Mysteries of Udolpho, which, even if I have read it before, is not a book conducive to sleep."

Michael picked up the agricultural book. "You are welcome to continue reading. I found what I am looking for."

"Does the book contain any helpful techniques?" She nodded to the book he held.

"I don't know yet. I have only started."

"If it does, will you tell me? I thought of reading—" She paused. "I suppose I shouldn't admit that, should I? It makes me sound like a bluestocking. I'm not. I want to help our farmers." She looked down again.

"You don't need to explain."

"Of course not. I'm afraid each time we meet, I lower your opinion of me. Is that why my name is scratched out?" She covered her mouth. "Please don't answer. My question is beyond impertinent and none of my business…"

"Scratched out?"

"The paper in the agricultural chemistry book." Her cheeks flushed pink, and she turned her gaze to the window.

Michael opened the book to the paper he had used to mark his place. The list Edward started. It wasn't her fault the book had been laying on the table. He cleared his throat, hoping to dislodge the lump that had formed as it did whenever he was unsure how to explain himself… "My friend wrote this list. Your name?—"

She held up her hand. "I told you there is no reason to explain. I shouldn't have been reading your books without permission."

For a moment, he supposed she might cry. His sisters often did for no apparent reason. Instead, she lifted her chin a fraction, all signs of sleep obliterated.

He folded the paper, trying to hide it away. "You are welcome to read all of our books."

Miss Philippa shook her head lightly causing a curl to bob near her ear. "I won't risk finding other lists."

"This is the only one they drew up for me."

"Marriage prospects?"

"Women who might be possible matches." Even he knew lying about the paper she'd seen would be useless.

"I am glad they crossed Alex's and my names off. It means your actions in helping my sister were not calculated to impress me, and I don't have to wonder at your motivations other than your natural kindness." She paused for a moment. "It is good to know we are only to be friends."

"We are friends?" He didn't have any female friends.

"Better than enemies. Especially since you hold the entirety of my sister's secret at your disposal."

"And you have evidence my courtship is calculated." Talking about the list made the hand holding it burn. Michael wished for a roaring fire, so he could rid himself of the paper forever.

"I'd assume many men do the same. Write up a list, I mean."

"Do women write lists?"

"I'm sure some do. If I were to keep a list, it would be men to avoid." She stepped around the back of the chair, adding distance between them.

"Which I have now earned a place on?"

"No person showing kindness to my sister could ever be on such a list, even the worst sort of rake." She shuddered and took a step further from the chair.

"I'd be careful of such information being bandied about, as some rake might try to use her to get to you."

Miss Philippa kept her eyes on the back of the chair and took another step away. "I am not worried. As pointed out this morning during your cousin's visit, my father is a liability on the marriage mart."

"You are decidedly blunt."

"Which is another good reason I am scratched off of your list. I'm afraid we are off of a great many lists like yours and unlikely to have a successful Season. I so hoped Alex would." She took another step away, still focused on the back of the chair.

Most people looked at others when they spoke. His mother spent hours helping him learn to look others in the eye or, at the very least, their nose. "Is there something wrong with the chair?"

She looked up, her cheeks pink. "A spider."

Michael walked around the chair, where a common house spider dangled from a silken thread. "It's so small."

"I know, it isn't reasonable. I just don't like them." She moved another step away.

Pinching the fragile string, Michael opened the door leading to the garden and set the spider down.

"Thank you."

"What were we discussing?"

"The success of Miss Lightwood's Season."

"Oh, yes. What of your Season? Aren't you hoping to be successful also?"

"I have been commanded to do so."

"Commanded?"

"Yes, Father wants me to make a good connection." She circled the chair.

"And you? What do you want?"

"I will settle for someone who doesn't despise me, as long as they are kind to Alex. If she doesn't have a successful Season, I will need my husband's blessing to eventually have her under his roof."

"That could be years and years from now. Why do you care so much for your sister's welfare? I have three sisters and they don't show half as much concern for each other."

Miss Philippa sat in the chair she previously vacated. "Have you ever lost something and only in the loss did you discover how much you loved it?"

"I wish my father back often for his advice. Advice I didn't seek when he lived. Something like that?"

"When my father informed me of my mother and brother's deaths, he also told me Alex would not live." Blinking rapidly, Miss Philippa looked out the window. "When Father returned with the bodies, he brought news that she still languished in agony with little hope of survival. The prayers I prayed and the promises I made—some of which I haven't kept well—God listened anyway. I suspect your sisters have never lost something they loved and then impossibly found it still."

"Few of us have lost the thing or person we love and find them again."

"Father isn't kind to Alex."

"And you can't abandon her."

"Precisely."

The list still burned in his hand. "I have a rather unconventional idea."

The conversation was already wildly inappropriate, yet she could not end it. Something about Lord Endelton reminded her of her brother, and she wished to put her finger on exactly what it was. He didn't quite look at her when he turned in her direction. The fact he'd answered her impertinent question without censuring her was most puzzling. Speaking her mind too much would be the end of her. It would have been better to leave when she first had the chance. Instead, Phil had sat back down and told the man everything. Why had she mentioned the paper with their names scratched out? She could blame it on having woken with such a start or still feeling hurt for being excluded. Lord Endelton had already proved himself as kind and attentive. Nerves loosened her tongue. "How unconventional?"

"It seems you could be a better resource than those who drew up this list. And I, in turn, could make sure to introduce you and your sister to men who are not rakes and would be in a position to overlook your father's deficits."

"Since this is our first Season, and I've met only one of the women on your list, I don't see how my opinion would be beneficial to you in the least." Propriety demanded she find a way out of such a scheme.

"I don't need you to introduce me. I need you to help me discern—. The other night at cards. Miss Simesson's story was all too believable. I thought you were the villain."

Forming an answer without calling him a simpleton caused Phil to pick her words carefully. "Lord Endelton, at what point did you see through her poor playing to the truth?"

"Later, when I talked to my sister. To be honest, if her husband hadn't accused you of being a cheat in the first place, I might not have formed my opinion against you so quickly and assumed you were trying to best Miss Simesson in some way."

"You did not understand that Edward joked?" How could a man hope to do well in the House of Lords if he couldn't even understand when his friends talked in jest? Lord Endelton acted more like her brother than she'd realized. He'd rarely understood a joke and had spent much of his time alone. Mother worried about his future at Eton and had gone to ask her father's opinion on that matter as well as others.

"Not precisely. You had attempted to cheat him before."

Phil blew out a puff of air. "I was a child. I also climbed trees. That doesn't mean I'd climb one today."

"You can climb trees?" Like her brother, Lord Endelton fastened on the point of the sentence holding no meaning.

"I can, but we were discussing why you would need my help to find a wife."

"My sisters tell me often I misinterpret or misunderstand what is being said." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a pleading in his eyes that would have given her sister Jane's dog competition.

"You are in earnest?" The statement came out as much of a question as an answer. For some unfathomable reason, Lord Endelton didn't understand the subtleties of conversation or even how odd his request was. Would little William have grown up like this?

"Please."

She searched his face for a hint of guile. He was so similar to her brother, how could she say no to the impractical question? "Tell me how am I to go about this? Befriend women on your list and spy on them?"

"Not spy. Take Miss Simesson. You knew she played a part, and I did not. You didn't need to spy on her. I needed to be warned."

With a sharp call, a bird flew out of the tree closest to the window and soared into the sky. Phil watched until the bird was out of sight, then dropped her gaze to the trunk of the tree where a cat prowled. She noticed Lord Endelton's attention likewise captured by the cat. She waited until he turned from the window. "How am I to let you know? If we are seen conversing often, it may give others the wrong idea."

"You could write me a note?"

"By no rule of society could I write to you. Besides, if our communications are intercepted, a scandal would be created."

"There must be a way to talk freely as we are now."

Another scandal if anyone saw them unchaperoned even with the door open. So far, she'd seen little chance to speak freely. No wonder rides and walks in Hyde Park were an expected part of courtship in town, there was no way to find a moment of privacy otherwise. "At a ball, it is easy enough. We have only to dance. No one would think anything of it as long as it was only one set, and you varied the timing."

"What about other events? What if we have another dinner?"

"Unless Lady Godderidge hosts another dinner party. I don't know if we will attend one together again. I believe your circles are somewhat different than our aunt's."

"What of the theater or one of those musical evenings?"

"Having been to neither, I am not sure."

"You've never been to the theater?"

"No. And the last musical evening I attended was at Godderidge's home when I was a little younger than Moriah. Our piano master set it up to give us a taste of what it would be like to exhibit our skills in public. I doubt it was much like one during the Season."

Lord Endelton's face fell. "I didn't think this would be so complicated. If you were a man, you could meet me at our club. Perhaps you are correct; this wasn't a good idea. I should not have asked."

"You said your sisters teased you. Can't they help?"

"Julia is entering confinement, and the list you saw was Edward and Deborah's help."

"What of Moriah?"

He focused on some point above her left shoulder. He'd done that several times. If not for William doing the same thing, she might look askance to his behavior. "She isn't out in society yet. And I don't think she understands my inability to do whatever it is I don't understand."

"Hmm. But if something was amiss I thought you should know about, I could invite Moriah to tea. Or if it was more immediate, I could ask you about her health, a type of signal. that I have something to tell you."

"Brilliant. Will you help me?"

How could she not? Somehow, Lord Endelton wasn't like other members of the ton. His differences allowed him to put aside society's rules and be kind to her sister. She must at least try to help him. "I still doubt my usefulness, but I will help you."