Bridgerton Collection, Volume 2 - Julia Quinn Page 0,200

then close it again, sitting down on a chair with an expression that, if it wasn’t meek, was at least meeker than anything he’d ever expected to see gracing her face.

Phillip decided that he needed to learn how to glare like Anthony Bridgerton. He’d have his children in line in no time.

“I don’t think Eloise will be interrupting us now,” Anthony said mildly. “Please, go on.”

Phillip glanced over at Eloise. She looked about ready to explode. But still, she held her tongue, which seemed a remarkable feat indeed, for one such as her.

Phillip briefly recounted the events that had led to Eloise’s arrival at Romney Hall. He told Anthony about the letters, beginning with Eloise’s letter of condolence, and how they had begun a friendly correspondence, pausing in his story only when Colin shook his head and murmured, “I always wondered what she was writing up in her room.”

When Phillip looked at him quizzically, he held up his hands and added, “Her fingers. They were always ink-stained, and I never knew why.”

Phillip finished his tale, concluding with, “So, as you see, I was looking for a wife. From the tone of her letters, she seemed intelligent and reasonable. My children, as you will come to realize should you remain long enough to meet them, can be rather, er”—he searched for the least unflattering adjective—“rambunctious,” he said, satisfied with his word choice. “I’d been hoping she would be a calming influence on them.”

“Eloise?” Benedict snorted, and Phillip could see from their expressions that the other three brothers agreed with his assessment.

And while Phillip might smile at Benedict’s comment about Eloise remembering everything, and even agree with Anthony about the muzzle, it was becoming apparent that the Bridgerton males did not hold their sister in the regard she deserved. “Your sister,” he said, his voice coming off sharp, “has been a marvelous influence upon my children. You would do well not to disparage her in my presence.”

He’d probably just issued his own death warrant. There were four of them, after all, and it wasn’t in his best interest to be insulting. But even if they had charged halfway across the country to protect Eloise’s virtue, there was no way he was going to stand here and listen to them snort and snuff and make a mockery of her.

Not Eloise. Not in front of him.

But to his great surprise, not a one of them had a retort, and in fact Anthony, who was still clearly the one in charge, held him with a level stare, assessing him as if he were peeling the layers back until he could see what lay hidden in his core.

“We have a great deal to talk about, you and I,” Anthony said quietly.

Phillip nodded. “I expect you will need to speak with your sister as well.”

Eloise shot him a grateful look. He wasn’t surprised. He couldn’t imagine she would take well to being left out of any decisions pertaining to her life. Hell, she wasn’t the sort to take well to being left out of anything.

“Yes,” Anthony said, “I do. In fact, I think we shall conduct our interview first, if you don’t mind.”

As if Phillip was stupid enough to argue with one Bridgerton while three more were glaring at him. “Please use my study,” he offered. “Eloise can show you the way.”

It was the wrong thing to say. None of the brothers cared to be reminded that Eloise had been in residence long enough to know her way around.

Anthony and Eloise left the room without another word, leaving Phillip alone with the remaining Bridgerton brothers.

“Mind if I sit?” Phillip asked, since he suspected he was going to be stuck here in the dining room for some time.

“Go right ahead,” Colin said expansively. Benedict and Gregory just continued to glare. Colin, Phillip noted, didn’t look particularly eager to strike up a friendship, either. He might have been marginally more amiable than his brothers, but his eyes showed a sharp shrewdness that Phillip rather thought he ought not underestimate.

“Please,” Phillip said, motioning to the food still on the table, “eat.”

Benedict and Gregory scowled at him as if he’d offered poison, but Colin sat across from him and plucked a crusty roll off a plate.

“They’re quite good,” Phillip said, even though he’d not had the opportunity to partake that evening.

“Good,” Colin muttered, taking a bite. “I’m famished.”

“How can you think of food?” Gregory said angrily.

“I always think of food,” Colin replied, his eyes searching the table until he located the