Chapter Eighteen

 

They took advantage of the fine weather the following morning and Raven brought along her speech written out for the theatrical, to study her lines. On the long cushioned seat, he lay with his head in her lap while she read her piece over and over.

“I hate the growing feeling that I’m in a play, Raven, but that I don’t know my lines.”

“Truly?” she asked.

“Time is running out. Your guardian’s mood is too erratic to chart and I’m worried that even your glittering night of readings is not going to make a dent.” Phillip closed his eyes. “I should speak to him this afternoon.”

Raven hit him lightly with her paper, enjoying the playful swish and pop of it against his nose. “Do you doubt my talents on the stage, sir? We will charm all of you into happy beasts and the plan will work. You’ll see. Have a little faith, my love.”

“This has nothing to do with faith. If his mood is level enough today or at any time before Friday arrives, why not make the most of it?” Phillip asked and then captured her wrist. “And no more swatting. I am abused enough as it stands.”

“You are hardly a bruised and cowering soul!” she laughed. “But I will be more gentle with you, sir. I am no bully.”

Phillip sat up slowly. “You are not a bully but I have to admire the way you get what you want. How is it that I lose every debate?”

“What debate?” she asked.

“Trent is difficult to persuade on his best days. Tell me again why I am waiting to approach him? Does this not make us look less and less well-intentioned? It will be harder to argue my honorable nature and good character when I am clearly the villain in this.”

“You are no villain, Phillip. You could never be a villain.”

“Raven. I have to take ownership of what I’ve done or that is precisely what I will be. If I am not an honest man who can admit to his mistakes, then I am a villain who hides the truth.”

It was a poor choice of words and he regretted it instantly.

“His mistakes?” Her grey eyes darkened with the insult. “Have you made an error in bedding me?”

“Not a mistake! But a—damn it, Raven. The order is not what the rules of society dictate, and even you who enjoy playing the wild and carefree girl when it suits you; even you have to admit that it is a fault in both our characters to give in to the passion between us before marriage!”

“Oh!” She stood to stamp one small foot in her fury. “I hate the rules of society! And I especially hate the rules of society when they demean my feelings for the man I love and make him use words like ‘mistake’ and ‘fault’ to relate what I shall defend to my grave as raw perfection!”

Phillip was stunned at her anger but also at how beautiful she was when riled. It was all he could do to nod. “I apologize. I am very grateful for my slice of raw perfection, Miss Wells.”

She forgot her recent pledge not to bruise him and punched his shoulder with a touch more vigor. “You should be! You bleak lump of a man!” Her fingers flew to her lips and her eyes widened in horror. “Oh! I’m—sorry. But if you only knew the terror you invoke when you…”

“Raven,” he stood to pull her into his arms, her ear nesting against his heartbeat. “I am a very, very lucky bleak lump of a man. I only want to make things right with Trent and secure this raw perfection between us. Doesn’t that make sense?”

She nodded and leaned back to look up at him. “Of course it does. But I—I cannot take the chance until after the performance. If he tosses us out…” she shuddered at the thought.

If he throws me out then I will have abandoned Lady Morley and my promise to her. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if my happiness came at the cost of hers. But I can’t explain any of it to you, my love. Not without destroying her faith in me.

Oh, god—what a mess!

“Are you afraid of him, Raven?”

She shook her head. “No! It isn’t that. Do not misunderstand. He may roar when the time comes…or be as mild as a lamb at the news, but neither reaction changes my feelings for you, Phillip.”

“Then why wait for—“

“No! No! No!” Raven pulled away from him, distress making her voice rough and uneven. “I will not be drawn into this again. It is Wednesday, Phillip Warrick. I ask you to wait until after tomorrow night’s performance. Is that such a weighty request? Must I give you a dozen sound reasons and defend my position repeatedly?”

“Perhaps not,” he conceded.

“It is a matter of faith. Either you believe in me, Phillip, or you do not. Which is it?” Raven asked and then held her breath.

“I believe in you, Raven Wells.”

Relief brought tears to her eyes. “And I believe in you.”

He took her hands into his and kissed her fingertips, a penitent soul. “After the performance. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Phillip!” She pulled herself up by his lapels to balance on her tip toes to kiss him. “Thank you.”

He lifted her into his arms, deepening the kiss and abandoning all arguments.

Raven rewarded him with all the enthusiasm her spirit possessed and silently vowed that after Friday, she would let him win every debate that married life might provide to make it up to him for her deception.

**

That afternoon, a game of croquet on the south lawn sprang up and the entire party ended up embroiled in the tournament, although some as spectators and not directly as players. Phillip had triumphed in the first round and would have volunteered to partner with Raven, but Lord Trent hailed him to come over to his table.

“Your Lordship? Did you wish to jump in?” Phillip asked.

“No. But come, I wish to take a walk and there is nothing worse than rattling away to oneself so I am asking you to come with me.”

“For conversation then?”

The earl laughed. “No! So that you can make it look like a conversation when I rattle on to myself, dear boy!”

“Of course,” he said, sending a quick look of apology to Raven as he set his mallet aside. “How can I refuse such a unique invitation?”

The others waved them merrily away while Raven watched them go with an anxious look. Phillip knew she feared that he would break his promise but he was resolute to prove that he could stay the course.

“Did you enjoy your time at Oakwell Manor, Warrick?”

“Very much,” Phillip answered, aware that the earl was setting out on the lake path. It was an irony that would test him but Phillip kept his hands tightly clasped behind his back. “You are very blessed with the beauty of your estates.”

“I am,” Trent agreed.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before the earl spoke again. “Oakwell Manor is as timeless as the land itself. But then, I get a little melancholy to think that life is such a fleeting thing and that the house looks on as I barely pass through—without much impact.”

“You’ve preserved it and kept it whole. I’d say that’s impact enough in these troubled times.” Phillip spoke from sincere admiration. “So many have lost their fortunes in the uproar of railroad schemes and foreign treasure hunts, but you’ve stayed above the fray and done well for yourself—and your descendants. I’m sure your efforts won’t be forgotten.”

“Oh, well, there is that, isn’t there?” the earl picked up a long stick to prod the ground and part the grasses as they strolled along. “Never mind. Talking about legacies is like rambling about the stars. They are all well and good but they never really touch us.”

Phillip smiled at the practicality of the man but Trent’s steps immediately stopped.

“Are you laughing at me, Warrick? You think I’m some maudlin and weak old man?” he demanded.

“No. Not at all. I was only marveling that such a grounded and no-nonsense man could raise a woman who seems barely tethered to this world.” Phillip said, suddenly unsure of where things had gone wrong.

“I am capable of many things you cannot fathom,” Trent said calmly and then continued walking as if all was well between them.

Phillip said nothing, falling in step beside his host and friend.

Trent’s shoulders relaxed as they approached the water. “I love this view of the house.”

Oh, I remember the view…a little too well.

Phillip could see the glade in the corner of his eye and did his best to keep his breathing even. “It’s like a painting.”

“You are a new man, Sir Warrick. So restrained and disciplined. I admire this version of you.” Trent tossed his stick in the water. “I confess I suspected that you had only come here in some greedy clasping scheme to earn my confidence for your financial gain. Can you imagine?”

Damn. Restrained and disciplined would not be the words I expect you to apply come Friday…and that guess of my original motives comes close enough for a shave.

Phillip nodded. “I can.”

“But you’ve not so much as tugged on my coattails for details about my next venture.” Trent smiled broadly. “Bravo!”

Phillip held his ground and decided that he could keep his promise to Raven but still salvage what self respect he could. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you? You know I’d have happily pursued any business you’d invited me to discuss. You were testing me, I think.”

“Perhaps. Tests are good for the soul, Warrick.”

“Did I pass or fail?”

“We’ll see,” Trent said enigmatically and then moved to continue walking down the path. “We’ll see.”

 

By the time Trent left him after their hike, Phillip decided to steal a few minutes for himself. The lavender was in full bloom and Phillip traced the long rows, the droning song of the bees underlining his thoughts.

There was no clear answer with Lord Trent and Phillip wrestled with the guilt of inflicting a painful scene on Raven when Friday came. Her optimism was endearing but every fiber of his being blazed a warning that the earl would not relinquish his “treasure” without a squabble.

It would sting, but he did not think the wounds could be fatal to any involved. He would find a way to appease Lord Trent, but he worried that Raven’s spirit would bear the brunt of any tension.

He was resigned to spending every waking hour left to him to compose his best case for Trent, lying by omission as much as he could stomach.

He looked up at a few gathering clouds in the sky and smiled.

I am a man transformed. God help me, she has changed me so completely I hardly recognize myself.

He had never been the kind of man to grin at the empty air and daydream of the magical appeal of one woman’s laughter, but here he was. A dizzy fool so deeply in love he was humming all the time, putting his coats on inside out and making poor Timms question his sanity. And when he asked Trent for her hand, if the earl started babbling about the advantages of prunes over plums, Phillip was ready to dig in and hold his ground.

Suddenly, his chin dropped as a small detail he’d completely forgotten fell back into his thoughts. “Damn it! I’m almost out of time!”

He raced back into the manor house and rang for Timms, breathless and agitated, only to find the man upstairs in his room already setting out his clothes for the evening.

“Timms?”

“Yes, sir.” Mr. Timms held out two sets of cufflinks. “Neither for tonight, then? Shall I get the enamel pair with the silver inlay?”

“No, these are fine.” He made his selection without really looking. “Is there a jeweler in the village?”

“A jeweler?” Timms echoed in surprise. “A proper jeweler?”

“Yes. Is there a proper jeweler in the village?”

“Mr. Sinclair is a goldsmith and has a lovely little shop next to the milliner’s. But the earl generally sends off to London for his—“

“Thank you, Timms.” Phillip straightened his shoulders. “I need my horse brought out and saddled. I think I’ll go out for a bit of exercise this morning. Are my riding clothes at hand?”

“They are—let me just pull them quickly and fetch your boots. I’d collected them for a polish and left them downstairs, so I apologize.”

“No apologies,” Phillip clapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Timms, I have the grand feeling that I will never again complain in my lifetime.”

“My! As grand as that? I’ll hurry all the more, sir! Never will I let it be said that I dampened or even foiled such a rare miracle,” Mr. Timms said with all seriousness and left Phillip to enjoy the moment.

Mr. Sinclair, let’s see if I can rely on your discretion.

And hell, even if I can’t, then I’ve kept my word to Raven and just brought things to a head a day or two earlier than planned. If heaven is secured sooner rather than later, who am I to complain?

Phillip laughed out loud and stretched his arms wide to embrace the dizzying happiness that the future held for him—for there was nothing between him and paradise.