Damsel in Distress? (7 page)

“Lisa Penderson,” the blonde said haughtily, as though the name should mean something.

“Ah, yes Miss Penderson.” Harriet paused for a long moment with a thoughtful look schooled on her face. “I can’t say I recall a Miss Penderson coming up in any conversation with Philip. We do always discuss the nicest-looking ladies in the
ton
though, so really, maybe that’s not all that much of a surprise then is it?” Harriet smiled sweetly at Miss Penderson and her friends before she walked away, leaving them with their mouths gaping open.

Her hand shook as she obtained a new glass of champagne and pressed it to her lips, not really wanting the drink, but wanting to appear in control and unaffected by the conversation.

She made sure she kept her head held high and her back straight until she was well out of sight of them. She also made sure she didn’t stop and talk to anyone else. She scanned the room for Philip and Cressandra. Surely they wouldn’t have gone far?

At last she spotted Cressandra, but she was deep in conversation with a lady who looked eerily like the debutante she had just insulted. Harriet had no desire to meet her mother.

She turned and ducked behind a pot plant before Cressandra could see her and call her over. The smell of beeswax was strong in the corner she found. She looked up and quickly stepped to the side as a stream of wax slid from the sconced candle on the wall above her. The stream slowed to a drip. When each drop hit the floor, light shimmied across the enclosed space as the wick swam in the liquid wax. With each candle in the entire room joining in, the lights cast their own shadows across the room, seeming to dance with the music along with the guests on the dance floor. The pool of wax grew beneath her candle and she wondered how the staff would remove it from the floor in the morning.

Her eyes were drawn to Philip as he entered the room. He paused in the doorway and scanned the crowd. Incredibly his eyes found hers almost at once. A smile tipped the corner of his mouth and he pushed his way through the ever-increasing number of guests until he reached her side.

“I can’t believe you left me with those women,” she blurted out before he could open his mouth.

“I’m sorry”, he mumbled and looked at his shoes, steadfastly avoiding eye contact.

“You do realise, Philip, they think we are
more
than friends?”

That got his attention. His head shot up in surprise. “How can they know?”

“Know what, Philip?” Harriet was starting to think they were having two different conversations.

“Never mind,” he mumbled again, and started walking off to leave her to her own devices. He stopped within a few footsteps and drew to his full height.

Harriet’s gaze followed his to the doorway. A man had just entered the ballroom. He strutted like a peacock, each step a precise movement to gain the most attention. His head swung slightly back and forth with each footstep, rocking his shoulders with his stride across the room. Ladies’ eyes fastened on him and followed his progress. The men’s did too, but for different reasons. It didn’t take a genius to see the distaste in Philip’s eyes, a look mirrored by many of the men around them. The man’s clothes were tight and left no room for the imagination as to what lay underneath. Harriet was amazed he
could
walk with trousers that tight.

“That’s Lord Writeson,” Philip said, moving back to stand at her side. “Stay away from him,” he said. He led Harriet back into the corner and handed her down into a seat, well away from the dripping wax. “Would you like me to fetch you a refreshment? Or perhaps a piece of cake?”

“So now you’re going to be nice to me?” She laughed. “I’m fine. I think I drank too much champagne already.”

Philip’s eyebrow arched. “Did you now? May I ask what has led you to drink?”

Harriet smiled into his eyes. “You,” she said with another laugh. It came out incredibly close to a giggle.

Philip feigned shock. “Me?” he asked. “Whatever have
I
done to make you foxed?”

Harriet couldn’t resist leaning her head briefly on his shoulder. “You, dear Philip, left me alone in a room full of she-devils. Whatever was I supposed to do?”

A smile touched his lips as he looked down at her resting so trustingly next to him and his heart swelled with longing. He knew they shouldn’t stay long in this position, even in an enclosed corner. He didn’t want to force her into a future she didn’t wish for if they were spotted. He shifted slightly away.

“Have I ever told you about my childhood, Harriet?” He cringed as soon as the words came out of his mouth. In searching for a subject, surely he could have chosen one slightly less painful? He looked at her, hopeful she hadn’t heard him but the expression on her face told him otherwise.

“Do you wonder why I live with my sister? And why the house is hers not mine? You would think a man of my means could afford my own residence, wouldn’t you?” He didn’t wait for her to reply to his questions, he already knew her answer. Everyone wanted to know. He’d been asked those very questions countless times. But he had never answered them…until tonight.

He shifted in his chair; it wasn’t his seat that was uncomfortable but rather his thoughts. “Our parents live not that far away, just down the street. They are here tonight, in fact.” He paused for a moment. “I should introduce you to them.” Philip couldn’t sit any longer. He stood up and started to pace. Their hiding place was only four paces wide and he felt like a caged animal in here. “You could say I grew up like any other son of a Lord. Pampered, some would say.” He stopped pacing right in front of her and looked down into her upturned face. “I wouldn’t call getting beaten every day pampered. But who am I to complain?”

“Philip.” Harriet gasped at the pain she saw etched on his handsome face. His business-like manner belied his feelings. She reached a hand out to him and drew him back down into the seat beside her. She felt sick to her stomach. How could anyone beat a child? Especially their own.

He slumped in his chair and made sure he was seated a distance away from her, but he didn’t release her hand. Something in him couldn’t let go of the connection. “It was mostly for not minding my manners. I had a pretty sharp tongue when I was a babe. But there were a few years in my youth I was afraid to say anything in front of my father in fear of feeling his strap. I learned quickly enough that saying nothing was worse. I couldn’t win. If I said what I wanted, I was beaten, if I said nothing, well, I was beaten harder.”

Harriet’s hand was shaking in his. Indignation was bright upon her face and for a few moments he was afraid she was about to get up and storm across the room to give his father a piece of her mind. He was momentarily grateful he hadn’t pointed him out to her. “I’ve got over it. In fact a year ago at one of their dinner parties my father told me he did it to shape me into a man. I suppose he didn’t think I could become one on my own.” Bitterness crept into his voice even as he struggled to contain it.

“What about your mother?”

He wasn’t sure if she was trying to change the subject but he answered her question all the same. “She’s like any other mother, I suppose. She loves her parties and gossip of any kind. She’s harmless of course. But she does love a good scandal.”

“Yes, Philip, but what kind of mother is she?” Harriet looked down at her skirt and saw it was tangled around her fingers. When had she done that? She quickly smoothed it out.

“She didn’t prevent any of it, if that’s what you’re asking. But she didn’t encourage any of it either. I suppose it was difficult for her to bear. There was nothing she could do to prevent it, so she would rise from the table or chair or wherever she was sitting and walk calmly from the room. She avoided my eyes and soon I learned not to bother to call out to her, she wasn’t going to come to my rescue.” The words flowed from his lips as though they had waited years to be said and he supposed in a way they had. His childhood was something he
never
discussed. Not with anyone. Strange that he felt comfortable telling Harriet. It was as though he could entrust her with his very heart and with it, every secret locked away inside.

A strangled sound came from Harriet. Philip rubbed her hand absentmindedly. His thoughts were elsewhere; far away from the music and dancing of the ball.

“My father was worse to Cressandra,” he said. “At least I was a boy and he had some time for me. Like he said, he wanted to shape me into the best man possible. Cressandra bore the brunt of his brutality. She could do no right. It’s not her fault of course, she was born a girl. He wanted an heir so badly, he took his frustration out on her.”

“But he had you.”

“Yes, but she came first and I think he thought he would be stuck with only a daughter and he never forgave her or our mother for that.” He looked at their hands again. “Our mother’s aunt left a substantial inheritance to Cressandra when she died. In the accompanying letter our great-aunt explained the money was so Cressandra could escape our father’s household. I live with her to guard her reputation. There is no way she could stay any longer under his roof, after receiving the letter. Father wouldn’t allow it and I wouldn’t allow her reputation to be dragged through the
ton.
”

“That’s very noble of you.”

He snorted and sat straighter in his chair. “Noble? No, it wasn’t noble at all. It was cowardly. I’d use any excuse to get away from that house.” He shifted in his chair, wishing he could pace the floor again but not wanting to let go of Harriet’s hand to do so.

Harriet tightened her hold on his hand to get his attention. “I think it’s noble. You allowed your sister to escape from your father’s brutality and also ensured her reputation stayed intact. She would have no chance at happiness without you, Philip. Don’t ever forget that.”

Her gaze was so intense, Philip had a hard time looking away from her eyes.

“It was for selfish purposes. I wasn’t thinking of my sister when I moved in.” His voice cracked as he forced the words from his throat.

“I find that hard to believe. You love your sister. Everyone can see that.” Harriet paused. “Do your friends know about your family? After meeting Lord and Lady Bingham I find it hard to believe they would tolerate your parents’ presence at their home if they were aware of the childhood you endured.”

“Jasper has known me for a long time. Our parents were good friends and I’m sure that he must have some inclination of what my childhood was like. But men don’t talk about things like that. We just get on with it.” Philip cleared his throat. The past was past and he was now eager to leave it behind. It was time he let it go and start living for tomorrow.

“I don’t understand…”

“You don’t need to, Harriet. All you need to know is that Cressandra and I are all right.”

“Do you want to get that refreshment now?” she asked.

“No. I find I don’t need one any more.” He turned his head to watch the rest of the guests circle around the room. He was starting to come out of the cocoon they wove around each other in this secluded corner. “Something about you calms me,” he said, still facing the crowd. “I don’t know what it is, but I no longer feel such a strong need to
drown
the pain. You wonder why I tend to drink so much?” He finally met her eyes. “I’m trying to outrun my past. I’m afraid of what the future holds and the thing that terrifies me the most is that I’ll become my father.”

He gently let go of her hand, stood up and bowed low to her. “Save me a waltz,” he said. He turned and walked away, leaving Harriet alone in her corner.

He disappeared into the crowd, needing to get away from the all the truths he had divulged. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, as though it was too tight. He wasn’t sure why he told her all that he did, but it seemed once he started talking, he couldn’t stop. The words just came out. He hoped the next time he looked into her eyes he wouldn’t see only pity there.

He pushed past his father, barely noticing when he called out to him and kept walking. His father was the last person he wanted to talk to at the moment. He needed to find a place he could think without the press of people around him. What he wouldn’t do for something to hit. The frustration of his emotions welled up inside him, begging for release. The best he could do was to head outside, at least there he could escape the crowd and breathe some fresh air.

Once he finally managed to walk out onto the balcony however, all he could think of was Harriet and how lovely her hair would look in the moonlight.

Chapter 15

Philip told himself he watched Harriet from the other side of the room to make sure she was safe. After all they still didn’t know who the men were who tried to kill her. He asked himself for the hundredth time that night what possessed him to bring her along. He obviously wasn’t thinking clearly.

“I see our roles are now reversed.” He barely avoided jumping before he recognised his best friend Jasper, Lord Bingham’s voice. He had been so absorbed in Harriet he hadn’t noticed his friend’s approach from behind.

“I’m just making sure she’s safe,” he muttered.

“You keep telling yourself that, Philip. One of these days you might convince yourself it’s true.” Jasper laughed quietly. “Grace has been worried about you.”

“Me?” Philip turned to his friend in surprise.

“Yes you. I told her you’re fine, but she doesn’t listen to me. She thinks you are too involved in this and need help.”

“Hers, I suppose?” Philip didn’t question why Jasper told Grace what was happening. Jasper told his wife everything. Philip no longer had any secrets.

“Of course. Not that I’ll let her anywhere near where there are men trying to kill anyone, but she doesn’t need to know that. She is getting quite testy at me for not letting her visit your guest though. I’ll have to give in to her soon if I’m to find any peace at home.”

“Come tomorrow. Not too early though, Harriet will be tired from tonight.” His eyes found her again. She had come out of her hiding spot and was currently making her way around the room. She was careful not to stop and talk to anyone.

“You’ve got something strenuous planned for later, have you?” Jasper teased with a wink.