Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

T he trip to Fife Manor was fraught with tense silence. Whatever Phillip had intended to tell Eleanor in the shop was long forgotten or else pushed aside after hearing the news. Eleanor found herself torn between worrying about why they were going to see her father and wondering what Phillip would have said if they hadn't been interrupted.

"Phillip," she ventured softly. "Why are we going to see my father? You know how I feel about him."

Phillip frowned. "I know well enough how you feel, but this is a time to set aside past anger and grudges, Eleanor."

"Is something terribly wrong?"

It has to be if he is asking me to lay aside my pain and anger over what Father did to me. Father has betrayed me in the worst possible way, but why is Phillip imploring me to forgive him? Does he know something I do not?

"Yes," Phillip replied softly.

"What?" She wished she didn't feel the tiny flutter of panic at his quiet response, but she did anyway. Years of loving someone couldn't be entirely erased in a few short days, though she hated herself for caring that her father might be in danger or hurt.

"I cannot tell you that, Eleanor. It is not my secret to share."

She scowled at her lap. "Why must I see him? Can you not go without me?"

Phillip leaned forward and took her hands in his. "Eleanor, you must see him. I know you well enough to know you will forever regret it if you do not. Besides, he has the answers to all the questions you keep asking about the circumstances of our marriage. Do you not wish to have them?"

Eleanor bit her lip and contemplated the matter. Did she? Was it best to let whatever reasons he'd refused to give her all those months ago go with him to his grave when it was time? Or should she seek the answers now?

"I do not know."

"Well, he would like to give you those answers now that it is the right time."

"The right time?" Eleanor snatched her hands back. "He has a ridiculous notion of the right time. The right time would have been before he dragged me to my wedding without my knowledge and consent and forced me to say ‘I do.'"

Phillip flinched. "Do you regret that you said it?"

Her anger fizzled out at the look of hurt in his eyes, and she took his hands in hers this time. "No, Phillip. No, I do not regret it. I cannot. Not when I have found love in the most unexpected of places."

He smiled sadly. "If there had been any other way…"

"Father left no other way." Eleanor held onto his hands tightly, needing his warmth and solidity to ground her. "And it seems I am about to discover the reason why whether I wish it or not."

"Do not hate me for forcing this matter, my love," he whispered. "Please. I only insisted because I know what it is he has to say and what the emergency is."

"But you will not tell me?" Her eyes filled with tears. "Have you known this whole time, Phillip?"

"I have."

"Is that why you kept insisting he was not the enemy?"

"Yes." He lowered his gaze to their hands. "I hated not being able to tell you, but now he will, and it will all be made clear, I promise you that."

Eleanor sighed and glanced out the window as the carriage rolled onto the cobbled driveway of her father's estate. "Can you at least give me a hint so that I don't walk in and get blindsided?"

Phillip squeezed her hands and pulled back. "I am sorry, Eleanor, I swore I would not. I am a man of my word."

She slumped back in her seat with a nod and stared out at the estate that had once been her home. What could have led to this urgent visit?

What is Phillip not telling me?

Her stomach clenched with nerves, and she crumpled a fistful of her gown in her lap trying to calm herself. It had been a long while since she'd seen her father, and seeing him again now wasn't how she'd imagined things would go. In fact, she'd been intent on never seeing him again. Would she be able to bear the pain that seeing him now would rekindle?

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the manor. Phillip climbed down and took her by the waist, lifting her out and holding her close in his arms for a long, wordless moment.

"Phillip?"

He kissed her temple and released her, then offered his arm. "Your father does not appreciate being made to wait, and time is of the essence."

Eleanor slipped her fingers around Phillip's arm and quickly glanced at his face before her anxiety took over and drew her attention back to the manor. He laid a hand over hers, grounding her and easing some of her anxiety. Whatever William had to say, Phillip would be with her through it, and Eleanor would survive only because she had her husband to help her through.

After this, if the answers would not exonerate William, Eleanor could wash her hands of him without Phillip's objections. Of that, she was certain. Her husband wouldn't insist she remains in contact with a man who had so cruelly hurt her if the answers would not make up for it. But Phillip was certain they would. He must be, or he would not have assured her numerous times that her father loved her and was doing his best.

The couple was met by the butler at the front door. He bowed to both of them and took their coats, handing them off to a maid who had joined him quietly. When the maid was out of earshot, the butler turned to Phillip. "Your Grace, my master has requested that you see him upstairs. He has retired to his chambers. Both you and Her Grace may go up at once."

"Thank you, Graves. Would you be so kind as to lead the way?" Eleanor asked.

"Indeed, Your Grace." Graves smiled reassuringly at her, giving her just the smallest reminder of the days when she'd once lived happily under her father's roof and had not feared returning home.

They followed the butler up the winding staircase until they reached the second floor. Graves led them down the hallway to her father's rooms without a word and then opened the door for them, letting them in William's bedchamber.

Eleanor hesitated on the doorstep, a sudden fear overwhelming her. What could her father have to say to her? What was the emergency that had called them here? Where was her father?

When her gaze landed on the bed, she found the man she'd been looking for. He locked his gaze with hers, his skin waxy and yellow in the lamplight. A weak smile spread across his lips, and he beckoned her closer. "You brought her to me after all, Richmond. Thank you, my son."

Eleanor looked at Phillip with tears in her eyes.

Phillip nodded at her in approval. "Go on. You need the truth, Eleanor. Before it dies with him."

A tear slipped free, spilling past her lashes and dripping from her chin. "What is really going on here, Phillip?"

He gave her a gentle push into the room. "I will be right outside if you need me, my darling."

"Wait, Phillip! Please, stay." She tugged at his sleeve, her tears beginning to fall in earnest. She knew she should be able to handle listening to a dying man's last words—for she was certain that was what she was about to hear—without her husband beside her, but she didn't think she could bear to do it alone.

Phillip pulled his arm free and took her chin in his large, warm palm, kissing her gently. "You will be all right, Eleanor. If you need me, just call out and I will be right here."

Then, he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. She stood staring at the door for a while, not ready to turn around and face the man who had been responsible for marrying her off to Phillip, to begin with.

"Eleanor," William croaked.

She turned slowly, her tears still falling. "You are dying."

"Come closer, my dear. Please."

She did as her father asked, trying not to gag at the sickeningly sweet scent that hovered around the bed. If she'd had any doubt that her previously hale, strong father was dying, she didn't after drawing close enough to see him. He had gone bald in the short time they'd been apart, and his skin was sallow. He looked as if he was one step away from death's door.

"I know you do not understand why I did what I did, my dear."

She sat in the chair beside the bed and looked down at her lap. "I am afraid I never will."

"I am sorry. But tell me… are you happy with Richmond, my dear?"

Eleanor closed her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line to hold back the cry building up inside her.

"Are you? Please, I must know," William wheezed.

She opened her eyes to look at the man who had betrayed her, her chest tight. "I am well. He treats me with more respect than I have ever expected. I have no complaints."

"But are you happy?" William pressed, struggling to push himself into an upright position.

"Please, Father." Eleanor pressed on his shoulder to keep him from moving. "Do not exert yourself on my account. I suppose I am happy. At least, happier than I believed I would be as a married woman. I lack for nothing. Phillip takes wonderful care of me, and he is gentle, kind and courteous. I do not know if he is in love with me, but I think he loves me dearly."

"And do you love him?"

She blushed and looked away. "What does that matter?"

"Indulge a dying man."

"Yes," she whispered. "I think I might."

William relaxed into his pillow with a sad smile. "I am relieved. I knew that he has a kind heart and that if anyone could win you over, it would be him. I am sorry I did not give him the benefit of the doubt by allowing him to court you."

"What?"

"I am certain he has told you that much. I refused to allow him to publicly court you."

"He told me. I never understood why, really. If you believed he could win me over, why did you refuse to let him try?" She clenched her hands in her skirts and refused to look at her father.

He let out a wet and phlegmy cough. "I believed you would refuse him on principle if he tried. Was I wrong?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "No."

"I knew that he was a good man the moment I met him. Your uncle told me he would be a good match, perhaps the only one capable of winning you over despite your stubbornness. I see now that Edward was right."

She looked up with a frown. "I… I do not understand. You approached him through Uncle Edward?"

"Your uncle knew him. In fact, he mentioned that he had seen you two interacting at that ball where you first met. So I asked him to approach Richmond with the idea of marriage between the two of you. I knew how little time I had left, my dear. That is why I rushed to find you a man who would cherish you and protect you after my death."

Tears welled again as Eleanor realized she should have listened to Phillip all along. He had believed in her father's kindness even with the strangeness of his methods and despite how little they knew about one another while she had refused to believe in the same because of the hurt and sense of betrayal.

I was so unfair to Father!

The tears spilled down her cheeks, and the sobs she'd been holding back broke free. "Why? Why did you never tell me about your illness? I would have understood, Father. I would have. Why all the subterfuge?"

"I did not wish you to spend your days worrying over me instead of finding happiness with the man I had chosen. I knew Richmond would be the right fit when I met him, and watching you two together before the wedding, I could not bring myself to spoil your chance at happiness by burdening you with my coming death. I would rather you think me the villain than mourn me and never see how well-suited Richmond is for you."

Eleanor covered her face with her hands. "I wish you had told me. I have spent the last few months despising you and begging my husband to keep you out of our home when I ought to have welcomed you with open arms."

"It was how I wished it, Eleanor. I only wish that I had made things right on the day I came to visit instead of doing so now when I am dying. But I have brought this upon myself, and I do not blame you for it." William reached out, drawing her hands away from her face with a papery dry hand. "Now then, my dear, I must rest. You and Richmond should go. Do not spend my final days here fussing over me or fretting. I have servants aplenty to ease my passing. Take solace in your husband. Graves will send an errand boy with word when it is over."

"Father…"

William broke into a coughing fit and closed his eyes. "Go, my dear."

Eleanor rose, a lump in her throat. "I love you," she whispered. "Even when I was furious with you, some part of me still loved you. You are forgiven for everything, Father."

"I love you too, my dearest. Your mother would be so very proud if she could see you now."

She bit back a whimper, but when her father didn't open his eyes or speak again, she left with her tears falling silently. Phillip took her in his arms and held her tight as soon as she stepped out of William's chambers, whispering soothing words until her tears abated.

"He wishes us to return to our home and wait for word of his death there," she told him when her sobs had finally ebbed.

Phillip stroked her hair with a sad smile. "He really does despise being fussed over, does he not?"

"Indeed." She smiled weakly. "I wish he had just told me the truth. Do you think we will ever know everything?"

"I am certain we will. Your uncle knows the whole truth about the matter, or so your father had informed me. I have no doubt he will stop by to visit and tell you the whole truth when it is time. Now, come." He drew her back down the hallway and then swept her up in his arms to carry her down the grand staircase. "We will fulfill his final wish."