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Hell, the woman could be slippery if she so set her mind, Philip thought as he strode to the study vexed. She revealed herself to be a die hard. He admired her for that, which didn’t mean he felt happy to be rejected. Again. Even though it was plainly obvious she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Frustration climbing sky high, he decided to go to his club, since there would be no Parliament session that day.
Chapter 12
A couple of days later, mid-afternoon, Philip had gone to Parliament and she and her lady’s maid spent the afternoon reorganising her belongings. Jenkins knocked.
Allowed to open the door, he announced. “Mr Eastwell, Your Grace.”
What did her brother want here? She wondered. If it had been her father, Jenkins would have announced Lord Drawbridge.
“I’ll receive him in the blue room, Jenkins.”
“Very well, Your Grace.” He bowed and left.
She checked her appearance in the mirror, thinking her dark green dress and her hair rolled in a simple bun looked proper. She gave a few instructions to her lady’s maid and went down.
“Charles,” She greeted him as she entered the drawing room.
“Selene.” He come near her. “How are you?” He kissed her on the cheek, like in the old days.
Her brother didn’t usually display this affable treatment of late. Something was afoot. “Fine, and you?”
He glanced briefly at her and turned his back, not answering her polite inquiry. His eyes wandered the room as he turned to her again. “You seem to be doing very well, indeed.” He remarked, taking in the luxurious decoration.
“Charles, why don’t you tell me the reason of your visit?” He wanted something, she could tell. Better he spoke it out
once and for all.
Philip climbed down his liveried carriage and took the entrance steps two at a time. Discussions in Parliament had been strenuous and he wished to soak in a bath. As soon as he entered, he heard voices in the drawing room. One voice male, he became immediately alert. If the pauper earl had the face to visit… The door ajar, not Cunningham, her brother.
“Things have become…disordered.” He heard Charles saying.
“How disordered?” Selene had a hard tone to her.
“I owe money.” A confession.
“Gambling money, you mean.”
“Yes, yes!” Impatience.
Selene didn’t want to hear any of that. Hadn’t she sacrificed enough to save her half-brother, and her family, from ruin? Would this never stop?
“You got enough to clear you former debts, didn’t you?”
“You’re right, but that was almost two years ago!” The muscle on his jaw thumped nervously
“So, you had the chance to clear your gambling debts and start anew.” She crossed her arms. “Why do you need more now? Naturally, she knew the answer. She wanted him to own it up though.
He hesitated as if sensing her stronger, more mature. “I got new gambling debts.”
The addicted villain! Philip thought. No wonder Selene didn’t care for her brother’s company. He remained hidden, wanting to discover more.
“The sacrifice I made was worth nothing then.” He imagined her chin up, angry. “Father forced me to marry a man trice my age. It crushed my hopes, my dreams, my expectations and here you are, back at it again!”
So this had been the reason Selene married his uncle! She didn’t want it! Drawbridge forced her! My, my, what a family! He felt the impulse to go to her father and beat him to an inch of his life! What kind of father did this to a daughter?
Selene felt disappointment and a hollow sense of purposelessness mingled in her. Either men, father or brother, showed her not an ounce of gratitude for her to have saved their skin, but she was good enough to become their source of income! Oh, this stopped here!
If possible, her spine became stiffer, her chin higher and her stare harder. “I believe you had a fair chance to clear your debts and change your life. It seems you threw it away.” He looked at her as if he saw her for the first time. “Grow up and deal with it yourself.”
