Chapter 29

Twenty-Nine

D inner was a quiet affair. Grandfather sent word he'd been invited to dine elsewhere, so it had only been the three of them. They retired to their aunt's sitting room where Phil and Alex took turns reading while their aunt worked on a needlepoint still life of fruit.

At the end of the chapter, Phil took the book from Alex and moved closer to the lamp. Three sentences in, someone pounded on the front door of the townhouse and yelled loudly for admittance to the house.

Phil dropped the book, Aunt Healand dropped her tapestry needle, and Alex dropped her jaw. They all focused on the doorway as they heard the rushing footsteps of the footman.

"Where are my daughters?" The unmistakable voice of Father boomed through the townhouse.

Phil looked at Alex. Her sister's eyes must've been as wide as hers. Phil took Alex's hand, wishing the two of them could hide.

Moments later, the butler appeared at the sitting room door. "Mr. Lightwood is here to see his daughters."

"See him to the parlor. We will be down momentarily." Aunt Healand waited for the servant to leave before she spoke again. "There's no need to rush girls. We will all go calmly after we pray."

Phil stood on shaky feet. Alex gripped her arm with all the force of a drowning woman. Father couldn't have possibly heard about the duchess's musical evening disaster so soon.

Aunt Healand smoothed her dress and raised her chin. "Come now. We will not cower in the corner. This is not your father's house."

Father paced the length of the parlor. He stopped as he noticed them come in and opened his mouth.

Aunt Healand cut him off. "Felton, what is the meaning of this intrusion? Why do you disturb our peace? The entire street must've heard you bellowing out there."

"Is this how you are introducing my daughters to society? By lazing around your home? You should be attending a ball or something."

Aunt Healand settled into the largest and most regal of the chairs. Her spine straight, she somehow managed to look down on Father from her lower position. She signaled for Phil and Alex to take the settee. "As you may remember, there are rarely events on Monday nights among the ton. But I am not the one who needs to justify his actions. I ask again—why are you here?"

"I have come to remove Alex home. I have heard rumors her leg has ruined any chances Phil has of a proper match." He pointed an accusing finger at Alex.

"Hurting Philippa? Surely not. Well, there was one addlepate, but she was best rid of him anyway," said Aunt Healand.

Phil squeezed Alex's hand. Their aunt was brilliant. A queen couldn't be more regal than their aunt appeared at this very moment.

Father spun to face Phil. "Is this true?"

Taking a cue from her aunt, Phil answered her father without wincing. "Have you not heard? Mr. Newcomb no longer requests my hand."

"Mr. Newcomb? He has eight thousand a year and a growing business. What did you do?" Father's voice rose.

"Absolutely nothing." That was the truth of the matter. "You are lying." For a moment, Phil feared Father might slap her with the back of his hand.

"Mr. Newcomb must have written to me if you refused him. I have been in Borehamwood for the last several days."

Phil recognized the name of the village. Margarita lived there. The household accounts would likely need adjusting again, depending on how much Father lost in one of the gambling hells. "You didn't tell us you were so near town."

"I saw no reason to tell you. Mr. Fry, the man I wrote you about, is there. I put him off on account of your pending proposal, but if Mr. Newcomb has declined …" Father rubbed his chin. "I shall have to think about this. Healand, I require a room for the night."

Aunt frowned deeper at his informal use of her name. "You will need to seek it elsewhere. My father is in residence and is occupying the last of the rooms."

"The earl?" Father's face paled for a moment before he could mask his surprise.

"The Earl of Whitstone is the only father I have."

"Don't tell me. He came to defend poor Alex's reputation. Like he can make her peg leg disappear. Words and his title can't make the truth go away. She is a cripple not fit for society and unfit to be a wife. There are men who will overlook her scarred face, and some who would find a one-limbed wife a great curiosity…"

"Stop!" Phil jumped to her feet. "She is your daughter . Why must you speak of her as if she is worthless?"

"Worthless? All a daughter is good for is the connections she can make through marriage. If your grandfather had not wanted the connection, he never would have allowed your mother to even look at me. I have five daughters. Only three of you are worth the investment I've put in to your upbringing. Jane is?—"

"Enough!" boomed Grandfather from the doorway. "Leave this house at once."

"You can't expel me from my home."

"It is not yours as long as I still live."

Father stood nose to nose with Grandfather. "It can't be long, old man."

Grandfather didn't flinch. "Leave now."

Father turned to Alex. "Be prepared to leave in the morning. You will not further endanger your sister's chances of a match. I should have never allowed you to come."

He left, the clank of the lock of the door echoing through the house. Alex leaned into Phil's side.

"Why did you allow him in?" asked Grandfather.

"He is their father. I can't deny him from speaking to his daughters."

Grandfather sank into a chair, his bravado gone. "Unfortunately, that is true. I don't like him removing Alex from London."

"Felton mentioned a Mr. Fry. Do you know him?" asked Aunt Healand.

Grandfather shook his head. "I can send out inquiries."

"Father's anger will lessen by morning; it always does." Alex's observation, while true, unless Father drank, was of little comfort. "If I am harming Phil's chances, I should leave. I've had a lovely time. Five weeks was an adequate Season for me knowing London is not for me."

"I will not have you leave until my solicitor can speak with you. I will send for him first thing. You only have a few months before your maturity, and you must be protected."

Alex sat up straight. "What is to protect everyone else? Phil is safe as long as Father believes she is of value, but George and Jane are old enough to marry off. George will fight for herself, but Jane…"

"George will fight for her too," said Phil. The twins' closeness kept them safe.

"They are not old enough. I cannot give them independence, but there is one thing your father craves above all else, and that is money. I will have a plan by morning." Grandfather marched out of the room.

Aunt Healand stood. "We need time. I will do all I can to delay Alexandra's departure. Do try to get some sleep. I know how difficult the journey will be for you."

Phil and Alex clung to each other as they left the room. Phil's mind raced. Something had to be done.

How early was too early? Michael looked at the clock in the study again. The minute had barely moved since he returned from breakfast. He'd spent the morning drafting a letter to Sir Lightwood as the earl suggested. It would take at least four days to travel to Kellmore Manor and back on the fastest of journeys. With the vote drawing close, Michael couldn't leave town for a week. A letter would have to suffice.

Michael read it again. Was he too eager? From what little he knew of Sir Lightwood, the title of viscount would hold as much sway as the lands and fortune behind the title. While not as large as Mr. Newcomb's holdings, the Endelton name was free of debt.

Folding the letter, he didn't seal it. Perhaps he should ask Edward or Richard if the letter was good enough. He'd been careful not to write any of the flowery sentiments floating through his mind.

He pulled another paper from his drawer.

Dearest Philippa,

I have written to ask your father's permission. Oh, that I could have a bird fly the missive to him and have an answer this very hour.

Michael poured out all the words he'd been unable to find yesterday onto the paper. When he finished writing, he sealed the letter and went in search of a footman.

"What is the fastest way to deliver a message to Russell Square?"

"A street messenger is almost as fast as a messenger on horseback. Would you like it delivered, my lord?"

A thought struck Michael. It might be too early for a call, but if he delivered it himself, he may see Philippa. "No. Will you prepare my horse?"

Ten minutes later, he entered Russell Square. Two carriages stood in front of Lady Healand's townhouse. One bore the crest of the earl, and the other was older and unmarked. Footmen swarmed around them, loading trunks and boxes. Michael stopped behind the carriage. A footman he recognized took the reins of his horse and handed them to a stable boy.

"What is happening?"

"You'll need to ask his lordship or her ladyship, my lord."

Michael hurried up the steps and waited at the open door as a maid passed through with a large basket. The butler recognized him and hurried over. "Lord Endelton, his Lordship is— No, perhaps I should have you wait in the parlor. This way, please."

The familiar room was silent. Michael watched at the window. The rush of servants in the corridor was the loudest sound in the house.

"Michael?"

He turned to Philippa's voice. Her eyes were red rimmed. "Are you leaving?"

"Father is taking Alex." Her voice caught. "Grandfather was unable to stop them."

"Where? When?"

"Home. Now."

Michael reached for Philippa's hand and led her to the settee. "Can you tell me more?"

"Last night, Father came. He was already furious, but then he discovered Mr. Newcomb declined to continue his suit. He insists Alex is at fault. He wants me to marry Mr. Fry. I won't."

"Why two carriages?"

"Grandfather is sending his so Alex can travel more comfortably. He refuses to allow Father in it." Philippa gave a strangled laugh.

"Where is your father?"

"I don't know. I heard him yelling at Grandfather earlier. Grandfather had taken Alex to his solicitor. Father is upset to learn Grandfather gave her a home in Bath when she turns twenty-one."

"Does your father know about our understanding?"

"I haven't had a chance to speak with him."

"Maybe if I go declare my suit to him, your father will allow her to stay."

"You would do that?"

"I wrote him a letter asking for your hand this morning. It would be better in person." Michael stood. Philippa didn't release his hand. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

She walked him out of the room. "I'm going up to help Alex. Have a footman send for me."

The butler led Michael to the study. Michael waited outside while the butler announced him. The butler exited and held the door for Michael to enter.

The earl stood from behind his desk. "Endelton, welcome. Allow me to introduce you to my son-in-law, Sir Lightwood."

Michael went through the niceties. Sir Lightwood barely acknowledged him.

"Felton, I suggest you listen to what the young viscount has to say." Lord Whitstone emphasized the title.

Sir Lightwood's eyebrows raised in interest. "Viscount?"

"Viscount Micheal Endelton." Michael bowed again. "I have come to ask for Miss Philippa's hand."

"Rather convenient timing." Sir Lightwood glared at the earl.

"Not my doing, Felton. In fact, I believe I should go check on the carriages." The earl exited the study leaving Michael alone.

"You wish to marry my daughter?" Michael swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"Because we are a good match, and she makes me smile."

"Stupidest reason I've ever heard." Sir Lightwood sneered.

Michael couldn't recall being treated so disrespectfully since Harrow. "You know she has only a small dowry."

"I am aware."

"You have the means to care for her, give her the pin money she requires?"

"Yes."

"Do you know about Alexandra's defect?"

"I am aware she wears a prosthesis. She is also one of the best pianists I've heard this Season."

"I am surprised you have heard her play."

"And I have heard Philippa sing. Her voice is enchanting."

Sir Lightwood leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. "You are enamored with her."

"Yes, sir."

"Have your solicitor contact mine to draw up the agreement."

"Then I have your blessing?"

"If the agreement suits. I am not just losing a daughter, I am losing the person who keeps my house running."

Michael used a line Richard told him. "I'll leave the negotiations to our solicitors."

Sir Lightwood nodded. "As you wish. Now if you will excuse me, we must be leaving."

"Can't Miss Lightwood stay?"

"Is that the game? No, she cannot stay. When you get married, Alexandra may attend the ceremony. I need a daughter to run my estate." Sir Lightwood didn't bid any farewells when he exited the room.

Michael found the family in the entryway. Philippa and Alexandra embraced near the door. Michael stayed in the shadows, allowing them time. He watched until the coaches left. Phil reentered the house and walked into his arms and cried.