Chapter 12

Twelve

F or the second day in a row, Michael arose before the rest of the household, including his valet. Perhaps this morning he could finish his agriculture book with out interruption. Last evening, Mother had insisted he stay around after dinner for a game of cards since Miss Philippa made a foursome. For the first round, he'd partnered with Mother mostly so he could see if Miss Philippa cheated. She hadn't, and she and Moriah won. When he partnered with Moriah, Mother and Miss Philippa won. Again, there was no cheating. He suspected if he had partnered with Miss Philippa, they would have made the winning team, however after two rounds, Miss Philippa excused herself to go to her sister.

Very disappointing, as he had no way to prove his hypothesis, because if Miss Philippa wasn't an extremely skilled player, he must be a very poor one. And he had never considered himself unskilled before. Unfortunately, he'd spent the time he should have been reading last evening trying to analyze her card skills to no avail. He was unable to remember most of the plays; however, her laugh and the sparkle of her blue grayish eyes remained in the forefront of his mind. Another conundrum to ponder. At first, he'd thought them a pale blue. Last night they'd been grayer, like a cloud not quite yet ready to rain. She really was the most perplexing woman.

Michael turned the page of his book back. What had he read? Was it something about rain? Yes, there was the line. The reference distracted him as he'd thought of Miss Philippa's eyes. That was one of the problems with women. If you weren't careful, they snuck into every part of your life. He'd watched it happen with both of his sisters' husbands. Even Richard's wife had invaded his life, though he was loath to admit it. His cousin spent most of his time trying to keep the duchess out of his affairs.

And why should he think of Miss Philippa? She was not on his list. It made no sense to ponder on her at all. He simply must put her out of his mind.

Michael returned his focus to the text and finished several pages before his valet interrupted him.

"My lord, I need to return to my brother's this morning to complete the work on the item."

"Of course."

"I should be back in two hours. Is there anything you need before I leave?"

Michael looked down to check his cravat and for crumbs. "No, I believe all is in order."

The valet nodded and left the room.

The smell of fresh bread reminded Michael he had yet to eat. Hence no crumbs. Experience told him he should set the book aside or he may have to wait until later for sustenance. Mother had been strict with the staff since his boyhood on the subject of missed meals. A rule which irritatingly enough only applied to him and not his sisters. They never became so engrossed in a book that they missed two meals and tea on the same day.

Setting aside his book, he went in search of sustenance.

The house was much quieter than it had been the morning before. Phil descended the stairs to the breakfast room. Alex still slept, so ordering a tray would have been an unnecessary burden for Lord Endelton's staff.

A maid set a plate of buns on the sideboard as Phil entered the otherwise empty room. The possibility of conversation caused her to come down from her room. There was such a thing as too much isolation. Until coming to London, she hadn't realized exactly how little time she spent in solitude each day.

Filling her plate, she took a seat where she could gaze out of the window and see if anyone entered the door. An unopened newspaper lay on a silver tray. Phil could only make out the headline news about the troops in Canada. It would be so much better if men would stop fighting all these wars.

She longed to open the paper, if only for a distraction.

Footsteps in the corridor alerted her to Lord Endelton's approach.

"Good morning." They said in unison.

Lord Endelton appraised the food on the sideboard. "Are we the only two who have been down?"

"I haven't seen anyone else."

"My mother and sister do not typically arrive early. Thus, they miss out on cook's buns when they are warm from the oven."

"Are they your favorite part of the meal?"

"Quite. I would have her serve them every day, but mother refuses to put them on the menu often. Two days in a row is unusual."

"That may be our fault. Alex and I both expressed our enjoyment of them."

"Then you are welcome to never leave if I can eat cook's buns each morning with my coddled eggs."

"Then we may disappoint you. My sister is much improved this morning. I believe we will be able to return to our aunt's this afternoon."

He sat opposite of her at the small table and picked up the newspaper. "And I have beaten Moriah to the paper."

Phil didn't speak as he perused the rest of the front page, then set the paper aside with a sigh.

"My older sisters tell me it is rude to read the paper when I am in company."

"Don't let me interrupt your morning routine."

"I usually read it after breakfast. My father always read it first. I cannot yet believe it is my prerogative to read the paper before others."

Phil lowered the teacup she'd sipped from. "Providing Moriah hasn't found the paper first."

"Precisely."

A rush of feet on the stairs caused them to look to the door. Moriah slowed her steps as she entered the room. "Michael?

Have you finished with the paper yet?"

"I haven't even started, and Mother said you were not to read the papers."

"Mother said I wasn't to read the gossip pages. I was looking for the pages about the theater. Since you are not inclined to choose, I must select the show." Moriah tossed a bun and an egg on her plate.

"I was going to have Mother choose."

"She'll choose something not exciting at all. Like dusty old Shakespeare." Moriah plopped down into a chair between them.

"Since you are not yet out, she will want to approve whatever we attend, anyway."

"Will she have to come with us?"

"I believe it is appropriate she attend."

Moriah crossed her arms. "Then it will be no fun at all."

"I wouldn't let Mother hear you. She'll decide you should wait another year."

"But I've already waited my entire life." Moriah's lip jutted forward ever so slightly.

Phil suppressed a smile. Youngest sisters had the most difficult life.

"Then I fear you will be disappointed. The theater isn't nearly as exciting as you imagine." Michael's face gave no hint he was teasing.

"What is your opinion, Miss Philippa? Will I be disappointed?" Moriah leaned forward in her seat.

"I cannot say, for I don't know what you are expecting, and since I've never been to the theater, I cannot tell if your hopes are too high or too low for the adventure."

Moriah's eyes widened. "You've never been?"

"No. This is our first visit to London."

"Then you must go with us. And your sister. Right, Michael?" Her question caught her brother with a mouth full of food.

Phil had to stop this idea. The invitation wasn't even Moriah's to extend. "Thank you, but?—"

"Excellent, Moriah." Lord Endelton cut off her objections. "Do you think Miss Lightwood will be able to attend the function?"

Theaters had stairs, didn't they? "Perhaps in a fortnight."

Lord Endelton nodded. "Our cousin keeps a box. I'll see if he can be persuaded to loan it to us for the evening."

"Oh, Richard never goes to the theater, only the duchess attends. Everyone knows that." Moriah rose and went to the sidebar.

Phil spoke in a low voice. "You don't need to honor your sister's invitation."

"The Duke's box has plenty of room."

"In a fortnight, you could be courting one of the women from your list, and she would not be well disposed if you went to the theater with another."

Lord Endelton paused. "If I explained it was Moriah's wish, she would understand."

"Possibly. Not to mention being seen at the theater with two women you are not courting will not help your cause."

His lordship's brow pinched together. "I do not see how it could hurt. I will discuss the matter with Mother. If she agrees, you and your sister will come?"

While they talked, Moriah returned. "Do say yes."

There was no graceful way out with Moriah's sighs and raptures interrupting every attempt to back out. Phil agreed, for Moriah's sake.

Moriah stuffed a large piece of her bun into her mouth, barely pausing to swallow. "I'll ask Mother what we should see. You won't forget to ask Richard about the box, will you?"

Lord Endelton pulled a paper from the pocket inside his coat and scribbled a note with a short length of pencil. "I have made a memorandum of it. I will not forget."

"You are the best brother in all of London." Moriah flitted from the room, leaving her half-eaten bun on her plate. A pity it would go to waste.

Phil tried again to extricate herself from the imprudent invitation. "Lord Endelton, please, there is no need to include us at your sister's whim."

"Nonsense. It is a good idea."

"Given yesterday's agreement, this is much too public of a meeting. We are to remain only friends." She clasped her hands together under the table to keep them from waving about to express her point.

"Actually, the theater would be an excellent place to introduce you to some of my eligible friends."

Phil couldn't find a way to explain her misgivings. "All the more reason we shouldn't go."

"Why ever not? You said you've never been to the theater. And the duke's box has a perfect view of the stage. So much better than seeing your first play from any other seats. Even I am aware being seen in the duke's box would go far to erase any stigma your father may have caused you."

Fair point. Phil doubted his lordship had any idea how problematic the invitation could become if he pursued a courtship in earnest. She'd have to count on others to bring him to reason "If the duke doesn't object."

"I doubt he will. He is more than happy to loan out his box."

"Then I thank you for the invitation. I will relay it to Alex." Phil stood to leave. Lord Endelton stood a half second later.

Phil curtsied and hurried out of the room.