Bridgerton Collection, Volume 2 - Julia Quinn Page 0,177

beg your pardon?”

“I said I was sorry. I wasn’t, really. It was a figure of speech.”

She sounded remarkably composed and almost schoolteacherish, for a woman who had just been so soundly kissed.

“People say things like that all the time,” she continued, “just to fill the silence.”

Phillip was coming to realize that she wasn’t the sort of woman who liked silence.

“It’s rather like when one—”

He kissed her again.

“Sir Phillip!”

“Sometimes,” he said with a satisfied smile, “silence is a good thing.”

Her mouth fell open. “Are you saying I talk too much?”

He shrugged, having too much fun teasing her to do anything else.

“I’ll have you know that I have been much quieter here than I am at home.”

“That’s difficult to imagine.”

“Sir Phillip!”

“Shhh,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand, then taking it again, more firmly this time, when she snatched it away. “We need a bit of noise around here.”

Eloise woke the following morning as if she were still wrapped in a dream. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her.

And she hadn’t expected to like it quite so much.

Her stomach let out an angry growl, and she decided to make her way down to the breakfast room. She had no idea if Sir Phillip would be there. Was he an early riser? Or did he like to remain abed until noon? It seemed silly that she didn’t know these things about him when she was seriously contemplating marriage.

And if he was there, waiting for her over a plate of coddled eggs, what would she say to him? What did one say to a man after he’d had his tongue in one’s ear?

Never mind that it had been a very nice tongue, indeed. It was still quite beyond scandalous.

What if she got there and could barely manage “Good morning?” He’d surely find that amusing, after teasing her about her loquaciousness the night before.

It almost made her laugh. She, who could carry on a conversation about nothing in particular and frequently did, wasn’t sure what she was going to say when she next saw Sir Phillip Crane.

Of course, he had kissed her. That changed everything.

Crossing the room, she checked to make sure that her door was firmly shut before she opened it. She didn’t think that Oliver and Amanda would try the same trick twice, but one never knew. She didn’t particularly relish the thought of another flour bath. Or worse. After the fish incident, they were probably thinking more along the lines of something liquid. Something liquid and smelly.

Humming softly to herself, she stepped out into the hall and turned to the right to make her way to the staircase. The day seemed filled with promise; the sun had actually been peeking out through the clouds this morning when she’d looked out the window, and—

“Oh!”

The shriek ripped itself right out of her throat as she plunged forward, her foot caught behind something that had been strung out across the hall. She didn’t even have a chance to try to regain her balance; she had been walking quickly, as was her habit, and when she fell, she fell hard.

And without even the time to use her hands to break her fall.

Tears burned her eyes. Her chin—dear God, her chin felt like it was on fire. The side of it, at least. She had just managed to twist her head ever so slightly to the side before she fell.

She moaned something incoherent, the sort of noise one makes when one hurts so badly that one simply cannot keep it all inside. And she kept waiting for the pain to subside, thinking that this would be like a stubbed toe, which throbs mercilessly for a few seconds and then, once the surprise of it is over, slides into nothing more than a dull ache.

But the pain kept burning. On her chin, on the side of her head, on her knee, and on her hip.

She felt beaten.

Slowly, with great effort, she forced herself up onto her hands and knees, and then into a sitting position. She allowed herself to lean against the wall and lifted her hand to cradle her cheek, taking quick bursts of breath through her nose to try to control the pain.

“Eloise!”

Phillip. She didn’t bother to look up, didn’t want to move from her curled-up position.

“Eloise, my God,” he said, triple-stepping the last few stairs as he rushed to her side. “What happened?”

“I fell.” She hadn’t meant to whimper, but it came out that way, anyway.

With a tenderness that seemed out of place on