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Just picking up his coat made his heart twist when he remembered how he had rescued Lady Lockhart from Christ Church Meadow. He still remembered how instinctive it had been to help her, to guide her in a gentlemanly fashion to his carriage and escort her home. Still, a part of him wondered whether he ought to have acted like he had never seen her. Maybe then he wouldn’t be feeling the way that he was. If he had not offered her help at all, he would not have kissed her, and then he would not be stuck pining over a woman who clearly had no interest in seeing him.
“My Lord, can I send for a carriage?”
The butler’s voice coming from the hallway behind him caused Philip to almost jump out of his skin, and he cursed himself once more for being so set on his thoughts of Lady Lockhart. He had become so intoxicated by thoughts of her that he seemed unable to think of anything else or pay attention to his surroundings. Perhaps going out into the real world wasn’t the best idea, but it was all he could think of that might even begin to ease his thoughts.
“No, thank you. I should like to walk,” Philip told the butler, and the man smiled and nodded, bowing before crossing the entryway to open the manor house’s front door for him.
“I wish you a fine walk, My Lord,” the butler announced with a friendly smile. He held open the door and gestured Philip through, “I do believe it is going to be a fine afternoon for it.”
“Thank you,” Philip said again, grabbing his top hat and pushing it onto his head before he slipped from the house and made his way down the sandstone steps.
Turning left out of the small front garden, Philip deliberately started to walk away from Summertown. The last thing he wanted was to go where he was not wanted, and he was entirely certain that the chance of seeing Lady Lockhart would be far too painful.
He turned his face up towards the sky as he walked, enjoying the feel of the warm sunshine upon his cheeks. Squinting his eyes against the bright light, he admired the almost cloudless sky, only able to pick up a wisp here or there.
“What a beautiful day,” he sighed wistfully. Perhaps if the weather had been like this the day he found Lady Lockhart in Christ Church Meadow, things would be much different now.
Perhaps they would have shared a fine walk, talking about the wildlife and the flowers, admiring the ponds, and talking of anything other than romance; perhaps a kiss never would have occurred because they would have been far too busy admiring each other’s minds.Stop it, Philip!he snapped at himself angrily.Just because you admire her does not mean that she admires you.
Yet he couldn’t help feeling that she did. He remembered the way she stared at him admiringly and seemed so adamant to take in every word that fell from his lips as if it were a vital piece of knowledge that she wished to lock away in her own mind forever in case it ever became useful. Philip missed that look more than anything.
Even more he missed her inquisitive nature and her determination to challenge him and his knowledge of subjects rather than merely taking his word for it. Though he would never admit it to her, she had even taught him a thing or two, and he was more than a little grateful for their time together.
Even as he thought on it, he lowered his gaze from the sky down to eye level to ensure that he did not get trampled in an attempt to cross the street, only to realise he had rounded a corner and begun to walk back on himself. Even without knowing it, his feet had begun to carry him back towards Summertown.
There was an unconscious determination in him to see her again, and Philip sighed the moment he saw the crescent appearing through the rows of houses. The area was bustling with people trying to sell their wares from small handcarts and baskets, from women trying to sell roses to men who wished him to buy a trinket for a lady friend.
Philip declined all of them, offering the poorest a coin or two to help them get a meal and a warm bed for the night. They thanked him graciously, and he offered them a kind smile before walking on, quickly finding himself in the crescent and standing outside the wrought iron fence surrounding the front of Lord Balfour’s townhouse.
He stood just in the shadows of a rosebush that backed onto the fence, gazing up at the house, hoping he might catch a glimpse of Lady Lockhart. Perhaps if he could figure out if she were in, he might have the courage to knock and enquire as to whether she was well, maybe even find out why she had not sent word to him yet.
When he caught movement in one of the upper windows, his heart leapt into his throat, and he held his breath. Turning his gaze up to the window partly opened to allow in a breeze, Philip instantly recognised Lady Lockhart leaning out. To him, she most definitely did not appear ill. Though pale, her complexion was healthy and her cheeks rosy as ever.
Her strawberry blonde hair was pinned back in a high updo on top of her head and pinned in place with bejewelled flower hairpins. Though he could only see her from waist up, he could tell she was wearing one of her usual green gowns with the pink floral pattern upon the bodice. It was a favourite of his, not just because it allowed him a good view of her ample bosom but also because it accentuated the creaminess of her skin—skin he longed to touch again.
Seeing the way she leaned out from the window, leaning on the windowsill so that she could look out over Oxford, Philip sucked in a deep breath and prepared to call to her. Just seeing her had given him the courage he needed to face her. At least if he called to her there in the window, she only had two options, to call back to him or to shut the window in his face. At least then, he would have some truer idea of how she was feeling towards him.
Yet just as he was about to step out of the shadows of the rosebush and make himself known to her, he heard a loud call coming from inside the townhouse. “Lady Daisy Lockhart! Get out of your room this instant! You have been in there quite long enough!”
Just hearing Lady Balfour’s voice grated against his eardrums, and Philip cringed. Though she had never said it out loud, Philip knew there was no love lost between the duchess and her stepdaughter. He had learned all he needed to know of their relationship whenever he enquired about her family’s health.
Whenever he mentioned Lady Lockhart’s stepmother specifically, the duke’s daughter’s face would fall, and although she would catch it quickly and force a smile onto her lips, she could not hide her true feelings from him. If she were ever to ask him, Philip would have to admit to her that he disliked the lady also. He did not like the way she looked at him or how she spoke to him. He could see almost exactly what she was thinking of him behind her dark and insidious gaze.
He had seen the similar hungry expressions on many noble mothers, all of whom looked upon him as though he were little more than a piece of meat or even a prize to be won. No doubt she saw him just as most people would see his tutoring a beautiful young woman like Lady Lockhart. She likely couldn’t wait to marry her stepdaughter off to him so she could focus on her own daughter.
Though the idea caused him to cringe at the mere fact that he had never liked any mother looking at him like that, he also couldn’t help realising that he actually didn’t entirely loathe the idea of Lady Lockhart’s being married off to him.
It was only the duchess’s presence within the house that stopped Philip calling to her. Seeing the discomfort on Lady Lockhart’s face the moment that she heard her stepmother’s caterwauling at her, Philip couldn’t help feeling the urge to rescue her though he knew that a woman like her would likely not thank him for taking it upon himself to do so. She was far too strong a woman for that, and he did not wish to offend her by trying to do so.
With a deep and reluctant sigh, Philip turned and began to make his way back in the direction he had come when Lady Lockhart leaned out to close the window and disappeared deeper inside the house.
If she wished to see me,he told himself firmly as he walked away,she would have already written to me.
Even though he told himself that she did not wish to see him, Philip found he could not stop thinking of her. His walk that afternoon had done little to distract him from thoughts of her. Even dinner and a drink with his father could do nothing. Nor could his trying to lose himself in his favourite books.
By the time his parents offered their final wishes for the rest of his evening and took themselves off to bed, Philip was feeling more restless than ever, and he quickly realised there was only one thing for it. He needed to see her. Whether it was an appropriate time to call or not, Philip could control himself no longer. He had waited over a week for her letter, and nothing had come.
Waiting until he was absolutely certain that his parents were gone to bed, Philip slipped from the front door with nobody to stop him, knowing that the butler and many of the other staff would be busy helping to get his parents prepared for bed.
