him.
But Selina – she was pale, drawn. Her eyes seeming bigger and darker than ever in her pale face.
And Philip could admit that he was worried for her. Perhaps even more than he should be.
They reached the bottom of the staircase, and he pointed the way to his study. Unfortunately, it was the only room downstairs with a fire lit and any sort of warmth.
She would have been more comfortable in one of the drawing rooms.
Still, there was little he could do about it.
“Does your head pain you, Miss – er “
He realised that he’d been thinking of her as Selina but of course, he couldn’t address her thus.
Bad enough that he’d been alone in Timmy’s bedchamber with her.
Bad enough that he was now meeting privately with her, in the middle of the night.
Yet, he knew she didn’t care about those things. And truth be told, right now, neither did he.
“Selina.” She spoke wryly as though she knew his inner struggle. “I know that’s a terrible crime among your kind, my lord,” she continued laughingly. “But my name is Selina, and there’s nothing either of us can do about that.”
“Selina.” He nodded, waiting for her to take a seat on the chaise before he took his own, not behind his desk but on the chair across from her. “And you must call me Philip.”
She raised a brow that seemed to scream, “I was going to anyway,” but didn’t comment.
Philip felt uncommonly nervous as he rang the bell for a tea tray.
“Your head?” he prompted when they’d both sat.
“It hurts a little,” she admitted with a grimace. “But I am well. It just – it tired me.”
With her softly spoken words, the atmosphere in the room changed, and Philip prepared himself for a conversation he didn’t want to have and wasn’t sure he’d even believe.
Yet he’d seen it himself, hadn’t he?
Charlotte’s face peering out from Timothy’s.
The silence stretched on while Philip steeled himself to ask a question he didn’t want the answer to.
“What happened, Selina?” He couldn’t seem to get any strength in his voice, yet he knew she heard him.
Her impossibly dark eyes stared back at him, and he was glad she didn’t flinch from the question. Glad that he knew she would at least be honest. Whether or not he could believe her remained to be seen.
She took a deep breath, as though preparing herself for something difficult.
“Timothy. He is – troubled,” she said, and he got the impression she was choosing her words carefully. “What happened to him? What happened to his mother?”
Philip blinked in shock.
“He told you about his mother?” he asked.
Timothy never spoke of Charlotte.
He’d asked one of the many supposed experts about that, but none of them had thought it important.
The advice he’d received had ranged from sending him away, to beating him, to ignoring him.
None of which had given him any confidence in the purportedly learned men he’d consulted.
“No,” she said now, interrupting his thoughts. “He didn’t.”
Philip shook his head.
“Then how —?”
He stopped, the dread that he’d felt since the episode in Timothy’s nursery exploding inside him, veering toward panic.
“Did you —?“ He hesitated to continue the question, knowing he would sound fit for Bedlam.
And yet, he remembered Selina’s words.
Let me help him.
To whom had she been speaking?
“What did you see, Selina?” he whispered.
Before she could answer, a knock sounded on the door heralding the arrival of a tray laden with tea, sandwiches, and small pastries.
“Thank you,” Philip hurriedly dismissed the maid as soon as she’d placed the tray on the table between them.
He knew the gossip in the kitchens would be rife. Could only imagine what would be said about them both between the servants when they inevitably discussed tonight’s events.
Yet, this wasn’t exactly a conversation he wanted the staff to be privy to.
He sat there expectantly, waiting for Selina to pour.
When she blinked at him, he realised that she wasn’t exactly the type of lady to pour tea.
For some reason, he liked that about her.
Since he was worried that she was still quite pale, he leaned forward to do the honours himself.
What he really needed was a stiff drink, but he could hardly start drowning himself in brandy while in the company of Selina.
“Here.” He held out the cup, which she took with a little smirk. “Would you like to eat something?”
“No, thank you. I cannot stay much longer in any case.”
Panic, swift and unexpected, seized Philip at the idea of her leaving.
He felt better when she was around. Felt that Timothy