Kisses and Scandal (A Survivors Series Anthology ) - Shana Galen Page 0,1
her to begin letters anew. Each time she crumpled a sheet of ruined vellum, her mother would huff as though disappointed. Finally, the clock chimed eleven and Phil rose.
“Have you finished your letter to Aunt Joyce?” her mother asked without looking at her.
“I have, Mama.”
“It seems a bad idea to ride today. There might be ice.” Her mother continued to write, her pen scratching the paper in front of her.
“I thought I would take a walk. I trust that is acceptable.”
Her mother made a sound of acquiescence and Phil started away.
“Perhaps I shall join you,” the duchess remarked, looking up and out the window. The sun was shining now, glittering off the quickly melting snow making a thin covering on the grounds.
Phil held her breath. Everything inside her screamed no, but she couldn’t very well say it aloud. Her mother would want to know why she shouldn’t go out walking with her daughter, and Phil had no answer for that.
Finally she said, “Shall I have Miss O’Malley bring your pelisse, gloves, and hat?”
Her mother made a face. “Never mind. That seems a lot of trouble to look at dead trees and grass.
Phil blew out a silent breath of relief.
“I’ll have Cook put out some cold dishes about one o’ clock. Help yourself if you’re feeling peckish.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“We will have guests for dinner.”
Phil paused, trying to remember who was coming to dinner. She’d ask Miss Dawson, her lady’s maid. Feeling lighter than she had in days, Phil rushed up to her chamber and found Dawson laying out several of her dresses. She saw a pretty green one she would have liked to change into as it made her eyes look even bluer, but it was a spring and summer dress, and winter hadn’t quite loosened its grip on the world. Phil decided to content herself with the warm dove gray dress she had donned this morning.
“What are you doing, Dawson?” she asked.
“I’m looking to see if these dresses need mending. I know we travel to Town in a few days to order your gowns for the Season, but you can still wear these from last year when you are at home.”
Phil sat on the edge of the bed and let her fingers trail over last year’s gowns. Each of them held a memory of dancing and music and garden parties. She had always looked forward to the Season before. But this year the riot of balls and routs held little appeal for her. She would have rather stayed in the country. Her mother’s pronouncement meant that by the time she attended her first ball of the Season, she would be engaged.
“Mama says we have guests for dinner. Do you remember who?’
“It’s Reverend Maypole, Mrs. Maypole, Viscount Knoxwood, his mother, and sisters, my lady.”
“Oh. That should prove awkward.”
Dawson gave her mistress a sympathetic look. “Perhaps it will snow this afternoon and the roads will be impassable.”
Phil rolled her eyes. That was about as likely as her mother agreeing to allow her to marry their footman. She stood. “I should take my opportunity to go for a walk now then. I don’t want to be out if the weather does miraculously turn. Can you help me change into my boots and cloak?”
That done, Phil pinched her cheeks to give them some color then lightly descended the stairs and went out the door.
HE HATED HOW HIS HEART sped up when he saw her coming. It wasn’t just because she was beautiful—though she was incredibly beautiful. And it wasn’t because she was rich—though she was almost as rich as she was beautiful. This was more than attraction or greed. This was something he hadn’t counted on and really couldn’t afford.
She spotted him a moment later, and he knew the exact moment because her smile widened and lit up her face. He’d heard that expression before, of course, but he’d never seen it actually happen until he’d met her. Her face actually seemed to shine brighter when she saw him. In those moments, he couldn’t even see her beauty. All he could see was her.
“Sure and ye take my breath away when ye smile like that,” he said when she was close enough to hear him.
It seemed impossible, but her smile widened. “You do have quite the way with words, Mr. Finnegan.”
“I save them all for ye, me lady.”
She stopped to stand under the eaves of the rear of the dowager house. She’d walked the long way around so that she approached from the back, not