Bridgerton Collection, Volume 2 - Julia Quinn Page 0,256

torture him, he was sure. “You need new shirts.”

Phillip groaned. “Can’t we have the tailor come out to the house?”

“Don’t you want to choose the fabric?”

He shook his head and said, quite grandly, “I trust you implicitly.”

“I think he needs to watch the carriage,” Oliver said, still hovering in the threshold.

“He’s going to need to watch his back,” Eloise muttered, “if he doesn’t—”

“Oh, very well,” Phillip said. “I’ll come in. But only for a moment.” He found himself standing in the women’s half of the shop, a frilly, feminine place if ever there was one, and shuddered. “Anything more, and I’m likely to perish of claustrophobia.”

“A big, strong man like you?” Eloise said in a mild voice. “Nonsense.” And then she looked up at him and motioned to him with her chin to come close.

“Yes?” he asked, wondering what this was all about.

“Amanda,” she whispered, nodding toward a door at the back of the room. “When she comes out, make a fuss.”

He looked about the store doubtfully. He might as well have been in China, so out of place did he feel. “I’m not very good at fussing.”

“Learn,” she ordered, then turned her attention to Oliver with a: “Now it’s your turn, Master Crane. Mrs. Larkin—”

Oliver’s groan would have done a dying man justice. “I want Mr. Larkin,” he protested. “Like Father.”

“You would like to see the tailor?” Eloise asked.

Oliver nodded vigorously.

“Really?”

He nodded again, although without quite as much conviction.

“Even though,” Eloise continued, with enough inflection to put her on the Drury Lane stage, “not an hour ago you vowed that wild horses could not drag you inside a storefront unless there were guns or toy soldiers in the window?”

Oliver’s mouth went slack, but he nodded. Barely.

“You’re good,” Phillip murmured in her ear as he watched Oliver drag himself through the doorway that separated Mr. Larkin’s half of the store from Mrs. Larkin’s.

“It’s all a matter of showing them how much worse the alternative is,” Eloise said. “Getting fitted by Mr. Larkin is tedious, but Mrs. Larkin—now, that would be wretched.”

An indignant howl rent the air, and Oliver came running back in—straight to Eloise, which left Phillip feeling a little bereft. He wanted his children to run to him, he realized.

“He stuck me with a pin!” Oliver declared.

“Were you squirming?” Eloise asked, without even batting an eyelash.

“No!”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Only the tiniest bit.”

“Right, then,” Eloise said. “Don’t move next time. I assure you that Mr. Larkin is very good at his job. If you don’t move, you won’t get jabbed. It’s as simple as that.”

Oliver digested that, then turned to Phillip with a pleading look in his eyes. It was rather nice to be perceived as an ally, but Phillip wasn’t going to contradict Eloise and undermine her authority. Especially not when he agreed with her wholeheartedly.

But then Oliver surprised him. He didn’t beg to be set free from Mr. Larkin’s clutches, and he didn’t say something horrid about Eloise, which, Phillip was sure, he would have done just a few weeks earlier, about any adult who thwarted his wishes.

Oliver just looked up at him and asked, “Will you come with me, Father? Please.”

Phillip opened his mouth to reply, but then, inexplicably, had to stop. His eyes began to sting with unshed tears, and he realized that he was, quite simply, overcome.

It wasn’t just the moment, the fact that his son wanted his company for a male rite of passage. Oliver had begged his company before.

But this was the first time that Phillip felt truly able to say yes, confident that if he went, he would do the right thing and say the right words.

And even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t his father, would never be—could never be like him. He couldn’t afford to be a coward, to keep pushing his children toward other people, all because he was worried he’d make a mistake.

He would make mistakes. It was inevitable. But they wouldn’t be huge ones, and with Eloise at his side, he was quite confident he could do anything.

Even manage the twins.

He placed his hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “I would be delighted to accompany you, son.” He cleared his throat, which had gone hoarse on the final word. Then he bent down and whispered, “The last thing we want is women over on the men’s side.”

Oliver nodded his vigorous agreement.

Phillip straightened, preparing to follow his son back to Mr. Larkin’s side of the establishment. Then he heard Eloise, clearing her throat behind him. He turned,