As the two of them reached her parents, Beth burst into tears and Mason embraced his wife, gently shushing her.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Roderick confessed. “I didn’t mean to upset the lady and—”
“It is…a pleasure to meet you.” Beth gasped between choked sobs as she seemed desperate not to embarrass her son.
Roderick looked between Beth and Mason and cleared his throat. “It is an honor to meet you.”
Mason’s voice was rough with emotion. “The honor is ours… my son.” He held out a hand and Roderick shook it. When he looked to his mother, Beth simply threw her arms around Roderick, hugging him. Roderick was startled a moment before he relaxed and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back.
Philippa stepped away, giving the reunited family some space. Her throat closed as she realized in a sudden rush of sorrow that she had no parents to be reunited with. Her mother lay cold in a grave and her father was in prison. Her lip trembled and she drew in several breaths as she buried the pain those thoughts caused. She reminded herself that she hadn’t lost her parents. She’d gained a brother and a grandfather.
“My dear child.” St. Albans spoke, and she turned to see him holding out his arms. She rushed to him, this familiar stranger who’d become so important to her in so short a time. He seemed to understand her pain and held her a long while. When he finally released her, he wiped tears from her cheeks with his handkerchief.
“There now, you’ve had a good cry. It’s quite understandable, my dear, with the ordeal you been through. But it’s over now. Why don’t you go upstairs and rest? We shall meet tomorrow when you feel better.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Grandpapa,” he reminded. She smiled, though the expression was a bit watery. He turned to the others. “Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, you and Roddy are welcome to come home with me and continue your re-acquaintance.”
Her parents agreed and both came to her, hugging her tight. Her mother kissed her cheek and her father did the same.
“Rest, my Pippa. We shall see you tomorrow.” She watched them walk out the front door with their son and her heart fractured a little. One light tap, and it would shatter into a thousand shards, never to be repaired.
“Philippa,” Beau murmured from behind her. She spun and buried herself in him with her fingers fisted in his shirt. She shut her eyes tight and held her breath, as everything she’d been through threatened to choke her.
“I’m so sorry, my darling. So very sorry,” he whispered over and over. What should have been a comfort to her only seemed to drive an invisible knife deeper, because his apologies warned her that some new heartbreak was on the horizon.
“You need to rest,” he said.
“So, do you.”
Beau flashed her a charming smile and kissed her forehead. “Let us go to bed, wife.”
Wife. The word sounded so strange to her, although it was her path now. A wife to a gentleman. She was no longer a maid, no longer bound in service. Part of the world walled away from her had been opened up, but it had come at a great cost. Her husband was keeping his distance from her. Her true parents were gone and the parents who’d raised her had their true son back. She would lose her friends in service and must learn to live a new life to which she was unaccustomed.
My wish for freedom and adventure has become a curse.
Philippa kept silent as Beau escorted her to the Leda bedchamber.
“This is your home now. Your chambers will always be here,” Beau said as they stepped inside.
“We will not share a room?” She hoped he would break from tradition in that respect.
“You wish to have one set of rooms?” he asked in clear surprise.
“Don’t you?”
“I…had not given it much thought. I assumed you would like privacy, as most ladies wish to do.”
Philippa tilted her head. “Since when have I ever been like most ladies?”
He chuckled. “A fair point. Very well. Which chambers do you prefer?”
“I like this room very much, but I suppose I would prefer your chambers.”
Beau shrugged. “Why don’t we stay here this evening? We can decide fully tomorrow.”
She sank onto the bed and stared at him, unsure of what to do. As a maid she had so many duties she’d rarely had a moment to breathe, but now she was a woman of leisure and had far too many moments of nothing to do. Overcoming a sense of being lost, she looked to him.
“Philippa, are you all right?” Beau came to her and cupped her face in his hands.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Truly.”
He stared deep into her eyes. “There is nothing wrong with not being fine. Talk to me.”
“I feel…lost.” She spoke the words and a terrible pressure exerted its invisible force upon her chest.
“Lost?” Beau echoed.
“Lost. I’ve lost so much and because of it, I feel lost.” She rubbed her eyes as they welled up with tears. The last thing she wanted to do was cry but at the moment, it seemed inevitable. The weight of her emotions was simply too much to withstand.
“You haven’t lost anything. You have St. Albans and your parents.”
He didn’t understand and she was too tired to explain.
He bent his head to hers and, as exhausted as she was, she welcomed his soft, warm lips upon her own. It felt so good to have him kissing her. He gently lifted her off the bed to stand close to him as he continued to kiss away her loneliness. His heartbeat was strong and measured against her chest as she pressed closer to him and wound her arms around his neck. She had missed this since their first and only night together. The connection between them hadn’t been lost as she’d feared. It was right here, like a dozen invisible yet gossamer fine strands binding them together into one heart, one soul. He murmured soft sweet words against her lips and stroked a loose curl of her hair that had come down from her coiffure.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“A little,” she admitted. His kisses seemed to have a healing affect upon her weary heart.
“Good. I should go in a moment and see that Stoddard has taken care of everything. You need time to rest, I’m sure.”
“I suppose…” She’d secretly hoped he would stay here with her, cuddled up in bed, the two of them just comforting one another.
Beau continued to watch her, worry creasing his brow. His dark hair gleamed in the light coming in from the windows behind her. The faint laughter lines around his eyes and mouth enhanced his handsome features. Those lines reminded her he was a man who had lived far longer than her and had seen and suffered much, to the point where he knew that this path he was on was the very one he wished so desperately to avoid.
Yet he belonged to her now, as much as another person could, at least under the law of man and God. But she didn’t own his heart, didn’t own his soul, not in the way he’d come to own hers. Her love for him had crept up on her so slowly. She’d been afraid of it, yet she’d known it would come in time and she would not have a weapon with which to fight it. Now it was too late. She loved him with all that she was and ever would be, but she could see in his eyes a need for distance between them.
“You don’t need to stay,” she said. “Separate rooms are acceptable to me.”
Beau opened his mouth for a moment, but he didn’t speak. A shadow crossed his face. “As you wish. I will let you rest, but first we must speak.”
A fresh wave of dread swelled inside her, making her stomach clench in anxiety. “Yes?”
“Before I met you, before any of this happened, I had plans to move to America, to manage a shipping company in New Orleans that I purchased from Lord Lennox.” She didn’t dare interrupt him, so he continued. “I have to leave soon, and given all that has happened, I believe it would be better if you remained here. Your friends are here, your parents, and St. Albans. I would not ask you to sacrifice the comfort and ease of your life for my sake. My home and wealth would remain at your dispos
al and you would have all the freedom a married lady would have.”
The day had somehow turned worse in the way she hadn’t even thought possible.
“You won’t even ask me if I wish to come? You’ve simply decided for me?”
“Philippa, ocean crossings are long and sometimes dangerous.” His relaxed posture suddenly became stiff. “I do not yet have my home furnished or my servants hired in New Orleans. As a man, I could survive easily enough without comforts, but I do not wish to impose that on my wife.”
“How long would you be gone?” She was too afraid to ask if he would ever even come back.
“A year, perhaps,” he hedged. “It would depend on how smoothly things run before I feel it safe enough to return to England.”
“You lied to me.” Her tone was hollow as her heart.
“Pardon?”
“You said you would endeavor to try to love me but—” She stopped short, bit her lip and then closed her eyes. “This was always your true intention.”
“Philippa, I’m sorry. I didn’t plan for any of this and I don’t want…” He paused, his eyes dark. “I don’t want to hurt you. If I leave now, this pain is all that we will have. If I stay it will be worse.”
“Worse? How?”
“I can’t… I’m not strong enough to fall in love with you and then lose you. I know that pain too well, and I never wish to revisit it. I’m sorry.”
He turned to leave but stopped in the doorway. “I’ll leave tomorrow, after the wedding breakfast. You won’t have to face me again, and you have so much to live for here. Don’t let me hold you back.”
But the pain she saw in his eyes was not a fraction of what she felt in her heart. “I’ve spent my whole life wanting something more in life. You made me think it was possible. But you are leaving me, abandoning me out of your own fears that you cannot face. You are a coward, Beau.” She turned to give him her back.
“I suppose you are right,” he whispered, and with the click of the closing door, her husband was gone.
* * *
Philippa was absolutely right. He was a bloody coward. But he couldn’t change his mind. Not now. The last thing he wanted was to be such a coward, but how could he stay? He couldn’t fall in love with his brave, beautiful wife. It would destroy him if he ever lost her, and he knew someday he would. Losing those one loved was an inescapable part of life. But if he didn’t love her… Losing her would be hard but not unbearable.
You are a coward, Beau.
Her words echoed in his mind, the accusation carried deeper and deeper into him. He had to leave, had to get out of the house for a few hours. He had to think.
He grabbed his hat and coat from a footman and walked the distance to Lennox House on Half-Moon Street. He was shown into a drawing room and started pacing the floor. That was how Lennox found him.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t you be in bed with your bride?” Lennox asked.
“Yes, but…” He stumbled on the words. “I made a mess of things. I have to leave for New Orleans tomorrow. Is the ship you sold me ready to sail?”
“The Moonlight Marvel? Yes, I can send a message to the captain. He was to set sail in three or four days, but it is an easy thing to move up to tomorrow, as they aren’t taking any cargo with them.”
“Good. I should like to leave before sunset,” Beau replied.
“Beau…” Lennox began. “We’ve been friends a long time. I hope you will not be angry with me if I speak honestly.”
Beau smiled ruefully. “Say what you will.”
Lennox nodded to himself before he spoke. “You are running away. Not just from her, but life. You believe that you can outrun your fears whenever they draw too close, and in the end you lose more than you gain. If you abandon her, you abandon all of it.”
A knot of pain lodged in Beau’s throat. “I know, Ash, I know.” He knew that he would be leaving behind the glories along with the sweet ecstasies, but he would escape the depths of true and darkest despair, which was what he feared far more.
“Is that what you wish for? A life half-lived? An existence only on the surface?” Lennox queried gently. His concern only made it that much harder for Beau.
“If it helps me escape the pain of loss, then yes.”
Beau didn’t miss the wounded look at Lennox’s eyes. It was rare to see such emotion in the baron’s gaze. He was carefully guarded with his emotions, but he also didn’t avoid them like Beau.
You, Lennox, are far better and braver than I am, he thought.
“I wish you luck, old friend. I shall send a set of letters and deeds to various properties in New Orleans along with you. If you haven’t bought a residence yet, I have one that would suit. It’s only just been built, a grand house with plenty of room to expand. It’s about three hours outside of New Orleans by coach.”
“Thank you, I would be glad to take you up on that.”
Lennox held out a hand and Beau clasped it in his.
“Thank you, for everything,” Beau replied. “Especially for Philippa. You saved her life.”
Lennox lips twitched. “Actually, I rather think it was you.”
“But you gave her the antidote…”
“Saving a life isn’t always as simple as poisons and antidotes. Sometimes it’s far more. It’s giving a person a home, a family, a life they dreamed of their whole lives. She was dying inside, Beau, until she met you.”
“I wish I was a better man for her then,” Beau whispered. He nodded once more to Lennox before he left the room. He couldn’t afford to disappoint anyone else today. The pain he feared was closer than he wished, pushing at the walls of his own guarded heart.
* * *
Rosalind joined Ashton in the drawing room. “Was that Beau?”
“Yes.” Ashton came to his wife and pulled her into his arms. His Scottish hellion laughed in delight.
“Why didn’t he stay? Is Philippa all right?” She asked him as he nuzzled her cheek.
“I fear he’s leaving tomorrow for New Orleans. Philippa isn’t going with him.”
Rosalind drew back. “What? Why not?”
“That is a complicated question, my heart. Beau believes if he leaves now, he won’t be hurt if he loses her. He thinks he can avoid falling in love.”
Rosalind frowned. “But surely he knows…”
“He’s the only one who doesn’t know he’s already madly in love with his wife.”
“Oh Ash, we must make him see.” Rosalind begged.
“More than anything, I wish I knew how. But every man comes to see his love for what it is in his own time. We can only pray that Beau will realize his mistake before he leaves for New Orleans, so that he might come straight home and beg his wife for forgiveness.”
Rosalind pressed her cheek to his chest, and he wrapped his arms tighter around her. “We were not so different than them,” she reminded him.
“Not much,” Ashton agreed. “But I came to my senses before it was too late. Beau is running and I fear he won’t change his mind.”
Rosalind lifted her head, a clever gleam in her eyes. “Because he’s running, he’s not the one who needs to chase. Don’t you see?”
Suddenly Ashton did see what his wife was telling him. “Ah. Yes, yes I do, my love. And if there’s time, we might yet save them both from further pain.”
His wife smiled. “This, among many reasons, is why love you.”
Lennox quirked a brow. “Because I meddle in the lives of others?”
“No, because you fight for love.”
Ashton’s heart swelled even more with love for his wife. “Always.”
Chapter 21
If only yesterday had been a terrible dream. Philippa wished that thought over and over as she pretended to enjoy her wedding breakfast. The boisterous mood of the guests in the room should have been welcome after everything that happened in the last few weeks, but she felt hollow compared to the happy, beaming people surrounding her. Her friends from Lennox Hous
e were here, as well as Beau’s friends. Not one guest was unwelcome, yet Philippa could barely manage a weak smile when anyone spoke to her.
Her grandfather handed her a glass of champagne. “I’m so glad to see you’re doing well.”
“Thank you. We were fortunate Lord Lennox discovered the correct antidote to that dreadful poison.” The entire situation had left her in a state of shock she hadn’t yet recovered from. It truly felt like it had all been a bad dream, but the reality of it continued to creep in on her little by little.
St. Albans’s face darkened. “When I think of you dying yesterday and none of us knew… My dear, it will haunt me forever.”
Philippa’s heart sunk at the look of sorrow upon his face, and she clutched his arm. “Please, grandpapa, you mustn’t.”
He offered her melancholy smile. “Now I see you are not enjoying your breakfast. You and Beau have barely spoken to one another.”
She knew the instant her face betrayed her pain because he ushered her out into the corridor away from the other guests.
“My child, whatever is the matter?”
“It’s such a silly thing,” she lied. As if Beau’s leaving was anything but monumental.
“What is it?”
“Beau is leaving this evening for New Orleans. He plans to live there at least a year and he doesn’t wish for me to come with him.”
St. Albans’s brows drew together, and his mouth firmed with grandfatherly fury. “What? That’s nonsense. I will speak to him at once.”
“No!” She grabbed his arm to prevent him from going back into the drawing room.
“But he isn’t thinking with his heart.”
“I think the problem is that he is thinking with his heart… the heart that was broken twice before I ever knew him.”
“He’s being foolish.” Her grandfather muttered. “Bloody idiot.”
Boudreaux’s Lady Page 22