Page 42 of Miss Ridley and the Duke

“Seek happiness in tranquility and avoid ambition.”

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

* * *

The two weeks since the dinner at Baydon Hall had flown past as she and Philip settled into a routine. In the mornings, they would ride together as he showed her parts of the estate and introduced her to the tenants. Once they returned, he would work in his study while she studied in the library. The more etiquette she studied, the more she discovered she needed to learn about correct behavior. Rules in the countryside, so far from urban London, were not as strict, and she was terrified of embarrassing the duke.

They would come together again at dinner time and discuss lively matters over their repast before Annabel would make her way upstairs. An hour later, once she had bathed and Mary had helped her undress and prepare her nightclothes, Philip would knock on the connecting door to his chamber and Annabel would do her best to not blurt out her growing love for him. At dawn, Philip would slip from her bed and another day would begin.

It was glorious, wonderful, and torturous. She longed to share her feelings—to tell him how happy she was here with him, how she had almost everything she could ever want when she was in his arms, but she knew he could not possibly feel the same, and it would ruin everything to pressure him with unwanted sentiments. So, she bit her lip and embraced him lovingly, expressing her deep regard without words.

She spent more and more time in the orangery that the duke had shown her the day after they returned from Filminster. She had never fancied citrus, but for some reason she had come to love the windowed room filled with the fragrance of oranges and lush foliage on the scaffolding.

She peeled an orange as Philip drank tea across from her, enjoying the morning birdsong they could hear in the trees beyond the orangery. It was blissful sitting with Philip while he read the papers delivered from London.

Annabel watched as Philip turned a page and froze, evidently engrossed in a story. After a few minutes, he looked up to gaze out at the parklands visible through the panoramic windows.

* * *

Philip cleared his throat and looked at Annabel, who was taking a bite of an orange segment. His gaze lingered on her lips for a moment which glistened with the hint of orange juices on her lower lip.

“Annabel, when did you last see your brother? Brendan, that is?” Philip withheld a wince. As if she had another brother.

Annabel froze, then chewed in silence before taking a deep swallow. Her expression was tense as she dropped her head to stare at her hands. “It has been four years come Christmastime. Why do you ask?”

“You mentioned that once, but I know little of your brother, and you never mention him.” Philip was concerned as her eyes appeared to be glistening.

“I have not seen him since I was fifteen. He had a meeting with the baron just before Christmastime. When he came out, I asked him to go riding with me. He told me he did not have time to spend with silly chits and to get out of his way. I ran off into the park, and when I returned home, Mrs. Harris informed me that Brendan had packed his trunks and left in the family carriage.”

Philip remained silent. Finally, he reached over to lift her chin with his large but gentle hand. “And then what happened, Annabel?”

Her brandy eyes were gleaming with unshed tears. Philip felt pangs of empathy that made him want to stop his line of questioning, but he sensed that, as Annabel had forced him to talk about his past, she needed to unburden herself.

“I waited for weeks for his return. Christmastime was always very important to my mother, and after she passed, Brendan and I would honor all of her holiday rituals, so I was sure he would come home for Christmas. I waited right through until Christmas dinner, which was when I realized …” She stopped, chewing on her lip.

“Realized?”

“He would not come home to see me. The holidays were nearly done, and he was enjoying himself somewhere without me. It was like losing my mother all over again. It was … I don’t know … it was how we had kept her memory alive, and after that, it was like she was truly gone. Forever. The next year, when the holidays approached, I hoped … perhaps he would return, and we would share those traditions once more, but he never did. I never saw him again. Sometimes I read news of him in London, but I did not know whether I would ever meet him again. I realized that second Christmas that I was truly alone in the world.” She raised a hand to discreetly wipe at her damp lashes, then continued with heavy irony. “Well, except for the baron. Richard would not talk about my brother when he visited, but I had hoped when we became betrothed that … perhaps I would see him when we went to London. If Richard had any intention of ever taking me to London.”

“Annabel, I will take you to London. Once we are there, we will seek your brother out and make him explain!”

She looked at Philip, nonplussed. “There is no need. I do not expect you to manage my errant brother.”

“There is every need. He is important to you, and I cannot let it stand that he abandoned you.”

Annabel looked at him in wonder, her eyes filled with the same warm adoration she had displayed on their journey home from Baydon Hall. It filled Philip with both delight and trepidation. He was ill-equipped to handle young ladies and their emotions, as his disastrous first marriage had proved. He needed to maintain some distance between them so they could continue in the harmony of their bonds. However, he could not deny that he enjoyed her deep regard for him.

“Why would it matter to you?”

“Do you ever write to your brother? Do you have any communication with him?”

“None at all. Why do you ask?”

“I have some news to impart. There are rumors that Brendan may soon wed.”

“What? How do you know that? Was it in the papers?”

“A scandal rag, actually. I rarely read them, but my man of business in London must have noted the mention of Ridley and sent it on to keep me informed about my relations.”