Page 4
Atlas did know. It was, in his opinion, one of her finest qualities. And based on what he’d heard from his cousin, she’d been unusually biddable of late. He’d worried that it had something to do with—
“I do know about that night,” Douglas said softly.
Atlas squared his gaze on his friend’s. “What night?”
Douglas flicked a hand his way. “You needn’t look so guilty. Lord Crenshaw saw you two together in the garden, but I demanded his word that he would speak of it to no one else.”
The back of Atlas’s neck heated, and he felt warmth spill into his cheeks. Douglas couldn’t know about everything that happened that night. If he did, he’d have called him out or, at the very least, ended their friendship months ago.
“We needn’t speak of it,” Douglas said, “but I know she will listen to you far more than she ever would to me. Will you find her and bring her back?”
Atlas couldn’t quite meet his friend’s eyes and stared at the blotter on his desk. He didn’t know if Philippa would listen to him, and it was because of that night in the garden behind his townhouse. But he did want to find her, not for Douglas’s sake, but to assure himself of her well-being.
“I’ll go and speak to Lizzie,” he told Douglas and shifted, meaning to head out immediately. The longer they waited, the farther Philippa might get.
“Thank you, my friend,” Douglas said, his voice gruff and earnest.
A thought struck and Atlas stilled his movements. “When I find her, I trust that I can tell her the engagement with Kelmscott is off.”
At the shocked look on Douglas’s face, Atlas had the unbearable urge to throttle him.
“That’s why she left,” Atlas he bit out. “You said so yourself. Now you want me to go and convince her to return to marry that old codger?”
“I didn’t know you had such strong opinions on the matter.” Douglas had crossed his arms and looked far too smug for a man who was standing across from someone who wanted to wrap their hands around his throat. He glanced down at the chair that Halford had vacated minutes ago. “And you, Stone? Are you not marrying for the very reason I negotiated the match with Kelmscott?”
He couldn’t deny it. Miss Caulfield’s main appeal was the funds her dowry would bring to bolster his family’s finances, and he realized now that it wasn’t what he wanted. Not that what he did want was any more appropriate or attainable.
“I want your word that if Philippa refuses the match, you will end it.”
“Stone, he’s already given me—”
“Whatever he’s given you, I will repay you, if it comes to that.”
Douglas drew in a sharp breath, then narrowed his eyes. “I can trust you with my sister, can’t I?”
The question was so offensive, Atlas took a step towards him. “You dare ask me that, after telling me I must go and find her for you?”
“You’re right. Forgive me.” Douglas shook his head, then strode forward, clapping Atlas on the shoulder. “Thank you for helping me. Please bring her back safely. I don’t even know what to tell my sisters, but Sophie and Lilah will be worried when they hear she’s gone without a word.”
Atlas gave him one nod, then moved past him toward the threshold.
All he wanted was to find Philippa and know that she’d not come to any danger, but a warning bell sounded in his mind too. Seeing her again would be the first time they’d spoken since that night.
Perhaps he was the one in danger.
Two
The room in the boarding house was small, but Philippa didn’t mind. It was on the topmost floor and tucked up into what must have once been the attic of the house. But its low, angled ceiling somehow felt protective rather than confining. And the tiny round window in the middle of the far wall provided an extraordinary view out onto the English Channel and the Brighton coast.
It had taken her a moment to orient herself when she’d awakened in the strange bed in a new place, and a moment of fear caused an uncertain fluttering in the center of her chest. She didn’t know where she would end up. But for now, at least she wasn’t in London preparing for a marriage she couldn’t stomach. A marriage to a man she couldn’t bear to think of touching. Such a union would take away all her freedom and autonomy and make her a prisoner in Kelmscott’s country house.
Her first thought was that she wanted to go outside and be near the water. This early, there weren’t many people out yet, but she knew they would come soon. Recently, an extraordinary pier had been constructed that reached out beyond Brighton’s pebble beach almost two thousand feet into the water.
She’d read about it in the newspaper and wanted to see it and walk the wooden platform herself. Scrambling out of bed, she washed quickly and dressed just as hastily. Back in London, one of the maids would often help her with her hair, but today she simply tied her dark waves back into a simple knot.
She was anonymous here, or would try to be, and she had no one to impress. She wouldn’t run into any of her Society friends or any of the young women she’d known from the two Seasons she’d been out. Here, there were only people attempting to enjoy themselves at the seaside, seeking leisure, the sea air, and a bit of the sunlight that would eventually break through the clouds. Though now, gray clouds mostly dominated the sky.
Out on the street, she drew in a breath of cool sea breeze and smiled up at a gull soaring high over the water. She noticed a tea shop next to the boarding house and told herself she’d go back there and claim a cup of tea after her venture on the pier.
