Chapter 30

Thirty

C hin up. It won't do for our callers to see you gloomy." Lady Healand stood behind Phil as her Abigail fixed Phil's hair in Green's absence.

"Better?" Phil's smile felt foreign to her face. Despite using one of Green's face creams, her eyes still showed signs of last night's restless sleep. The thought of Alex traveling alone for days haunted her. Since the accident, they had always traveled together. The nightmares which woke her early in the morning were all of Alex and another accident. It didn't matter that she knew Alex was in Grandfather's well-maintained carriage and with both Green and her husband. She would not be able to rest until she received word Alex arrived at Kellmore safely.

"You'll have to be more convincing during our at-home hours. I know you miss your sister. Try to think of other things. Perhaps your understanding with a very handsome viscount?"

Phil watched her cheeks color in the mirror. "I haven't said I had one."

"You must have, or my father would have never allowed you ten minutes in the parlor with him yesterday after your sister left. Unchaperoned."

Grandfather's direction giving Michael permission to calm her in the parlor without a chaperone was unusual, now she thought about it, and rather telling. She sobbed in Michael's strong arms for several minutes before gaining control of herself. He hadn't tried to push her to be happy or cheer her. Somehow, he understood platitudes people usually gave wouldn't help. Or he was incapable of saying them to begin with. He'd left shortly after, with a promise to meet tonight in Almack's assembly rooms. "Grandfather is unusually understanding."

The mirror reflected Aunt Healand's knowing smile. "That did the trick. Your expression is much more joyful. And that style is very becoming."

To Phil's eye, her hair didn't look much different than what Green usually did for day wear. Nevertheless, she smiled and thanked her Aunt's Abigail.

A tap came to the door, and the upstairs maid entered. "The butler asked I fetch you directly."

Aunt Healand took the calling card the maid offered and her face blanched. "Come, Philippa."

"Who is it?"

"Countess Lieven."

"One of the patronesses of Almack's?"

"Yes, this cannot be good news. She is well before calling hours."

Phil hurried down the stairs after her aunt. Outside the parlor door they stopped as her aunt took a deep breath before entering.

"Lady Lieven, what an unexpected surprise. Shall I ring for tea?" A remarkable calm that Phil could have never managed filled Aunt Healand's voice.

"Tea will not be necessary. I shall not be here long enough." Lady Lieven's accent added a harshness to her words. "I have come to revoke your nieces' vouchers. After the dreadful display at the duchess's soiree, we simply cannot risk their attendance. If you will go get your voucher, and your sister's as well."

Since the countess stood in the center of the room, no one sat. Aunt Healand laid her hand on Phil's arm. "Only Philippa had a voucher. We did not apply for one for Miss Alexandra."

Lady Lieven's brow raised. "We are pleased you did not try to hoodwink us in that regard. The voucher?"

Aunt released Phil's arm, and she scrambled out of the room as quickly as she could. Phil startled a maid when she entered the room. The coveted square paper voucher lay in the dressing table drawer where she had left it after attending the assembly rooms last time. The voucher wouldn't be a total loss as she would have an excuse to avoid the overcrowded rooms. When she returned to the parlor, Lady Lieven stood closer to the doorway.

"At last." She held out her hand for the voucher.

Phil handed it to her, not sure what to expect.

With one quick move, Lady Lieven tore the card in half, dropped it on the floor, and exited without looking at either of them.

"Of all the pompous—" Aunt Healand didn't finish the sentence as a maid swept in and cleaned up the papers.

For a moment, Phil wanted to keep the remnants, but there could be no good come of holding on to a poor memory.

"Would you mind singing for me until it is time for callers? And don't tell me Alex isn't here. You can play well enough to accompany yourself."

"Something fun and daring? I know a few sea shanties." Her aunt laughed. "Why not?"

Grandfather joined them halfway through the second tone. "What is this my little Philippa is singing?"

"Tunes to make us laugh. Would you like to join us?"

"Do you know "Lavender Blue"? I haven't heard it in ages."

It took Phil a couple of false notes to find the tune until they sang together.

The clock in the hall struck the hour as they sang the last chorus.

"Thank you, my dear. I am off to the club so you ladies can receive your callers." Grandfather left.

Carriage after carriage passed the townhouse without stopping. The hall clock chimed. An hour passed, and not even Aunt's usual friends came. Phil turned the last page of her book and set it on the table. Her stomach rumbled loudly enough Aunt looked up from her needlework. At quarter to five Lady Healand ordered tea.

"History does repeat itself."

"Whatever do you mean Aunt?"

"When I decided to marry Mr. Healand, word spread like wildfire. All of my supposed friends abandoned me. It wasn't until after he died, when I resumed using the title which is my right as an Earl's daughter, did I become marginally accepted again. Years later, no one remembers my fall from society, or at least claims to." Phil bit into one of cook's special biscuits. One advantage of no one visiting was she could have the best of the tea cakes for herself.

"All of this because Lady Charlotte tripped Alex at the soiree. Shouldn't she be censured for her actions?"

"Fairness isn't the purpose of the ton."

"What is their purpose? Why do they think themselves so important?"

"That, my dear niece, I have never quite figured out. However, it is the way of things, and if we are to get on in our world, we must follow their rules."

A knock sounded on the door. Isabel and Moriah, accompanied by a harried looking maid, entered the room. The girls sat on either side of Phil.

"Please forgive us for not coming earlier," said Isabel, her face flushed. "We also bring our mothers' greetings."

Moriah fidgeted, and the light caught the stain of a tear on her cheek.

Alarmed, Phil looked closer at Isabel, who also seemed distressed. "Whatever is wrong?"

"It's Deborah—" Moriah's voice cracked.

Isabel grasped Phil's hand. "Deborah is in a terrible way, and both of our mothers are with her."

"As is the doctor. I'm so afraid." A tear escaped Moriah's eye.

Phil handed the girl her own handkerchief. "Why ever did you come then?"

"Deborah didn't want you to think everyone had abandoned you and begged Mother to send us here." Isabel was much more composed than Moriah; still her voice shook.

Aunt Healand rang for a second round of tea. Fortunately, most of the best confections remained.

Contrary to what every English woman claimed, Phil knew tea did not cure all ills.

Sometime in his youth, Michael learned punctuality was a prized virtue. Being late to anything bothered him. Tonight, he was nearly an hour late to meet Philippa at Almack's. It couldn't be helped. Edward needed him after being banned from his own house. There was naught for Michael to do for his brother-in-law but to keep him occupied until word came. Deborah lost the child she carried. He could only listen as Edward raged at the blow until he was allowed to see his wife.

According to the doctor, Deborah required rest to return to full health.

If not for the chance to talk with Philippa, Michael would not have come. Hopefully, she and her aunt would be persuaded to leave quickly. He had no stomach for dancing.

He searched room after room, unable to find either Lady Healand or Philippa. Had she left because he failed to arrive? Michael walked a wide path around a group of debutantes, the last of which was Miss Abbott. He pretended not to notice them. They, however, noticed him.

Miss Abbott tapped his arm with her fan. "Lord Endelton, what a surprise to see you here."

"Excuse me, I must…"

"Must what? Find the Misses Lightwood?" Her mocking laughter caused him to stop.

Michael nodded and scanned the room beyond.

"He hasn't heard," whispered one of the women. Her comment unlocked the mouths of the others who bombarded him with answers.

"They aren't here."

"Their vouchers were revoked."

"The duchess saw to it after such an embarrassing display at her home."

Michael searched their faces to know the truth. Miss Abbott laughed again. He spun on his heel and left, his quick action ending their laughter.

The hour was well past the time of making proper calls, yet lights still burned in the front parlor of Lady Healand's residence, so Michael took a chance and knocked. The butler opened the door and showed him into the parlor.

Philippa held a book in her lap as if keeping her place. Lady Healand worked on a piece of needlework. The earl sat closest to the fireplace looking over a chess set. "Do you play?"

"Tolerably well."

"Good. I cannot figure out the next, best move."

Phil placed a ribbon in the book and closed it. "Do be warned. Grandfather has been studying his move for ten minutes, hoping to find a way to not allow me to win. I picked up this book to pass the time."

"You play too?"

"Passably." She rose and stood next to him. "I'm sorry I didn't send word we would not be at Almack's tonight. The topic slipped my mind during Moriah's visit. Is there any word on Deborah's health?"

"We are assured she will recover."

Lady Healand sighed. "Poor dear. Please tell her I've been praying for her."

The sentiment caused Michael to pause. Most people didn't speak of prayers as if they meant it, but Lady Healand did. "I will pass on the message."

The earl moved a knight. "Confound it. I think that was still the wrong move.

Philippa didn't bother to sit at the table as she captured the earl's knight with her rook. "Checkmate."

"I should have never taught you this game."

"You mean you should have never taught Alex."

Lord Whitstone stood. "I suppose you would like a few minutes to speak with my Philippa. Come, daughter, let us give them a quarter hour. Mind you, I'll send the burliest of my footmen in if you are even one minute beyond the quarter."

Michael watched in awe as, once again, he was left alone with Philippa, though the door was not fully closed.

"He likes you. And trusts you to a point." She led him over to the settee.

"You have been banned from Almack's?"

"Yes, I shall never have to suffer the crowded rooms and watery lemonade again." The laughter in her smile didn't make her eyes sparkle. "I am very sorry I didn't send word. Once Moriah came with the news, my not being able to dance seemed rather unimportant."

He picked up her hand and laid it on his. "I understand. I should have sent word I would be delayed."

Philippa shook her head enough that a curl bobbed, and she pulled her hand away. "Have you told anyone of our understanding?"

"No. I suspect my mother has guessed."

"That is well. I fear I must end it."

"Why?"

"You have aspirations. It is not only my father which would hold you back. It is me. Today Aunt Healand didn't receive a single caller until your sister and Isabel came. My voucher is gone. The ton does not easily forgive."

"It doesn't matter."

"We do not suit." Her words were said without the malice Miss Abbott used.

"But I love you."

She took a deep breath and turned, looking into the dying fire. "But I do not love you."

Michael jumped to his feet. "Philippa? Please don't lie."

She turned enough so he could see her profile. "It is time for you to leave."

"Why?"

Philippa stepped to the bellpull and raised her hand.

"Stop, I'll go." Michael slowly walked to the entryway without making eye contact with anyone as he exited the house. It wasn't raining. It should have been, as his insides were drenched with tears he couldn't shed.