by Maggie Ryan
“Very well, sir.”
Thanking him, Phillip went to his office for his nightly ritual. He always ended his day with a glass of brandy and a book that he enjoyed before the fire. However, the book remained on a side table as he settled himself into his chair. Looking at his large mahogany desk, he remembered sitting in a different office, and lifted his glass.
“Here’s to hope,” he said, giving a nod as if his toast had been acknowledged before taking a sip. He had to grin thinking of Eleanor’s words. He was also one to trust in his instincts, and just prayed that they wouldn’t take this opportunity to disabuse him of that trust.
Chapter Five
The moment Phillip mounted the black stallion the next day, Racer began to prance. Bending forward, Phillip patted his velvet skin. “Easy boy, easy.”
“He’s ready to run,” John said. The young man served as a jack-of-all-trades, doing any task within his ability, and yet Phillip knew he was truly the happiest in the stables.
“I’ve been neglecting him,” Phillip admitted. “I’ll make sure he gets a good run. Thanks, John.”
“Have a good ride, sir,” John said, releasing his hold on the reins and stepping to the side. The horse gave a lunge but Phillip was prepared and easily held him in. He grinned as the horse shifted as if attempting to show his rider who was really in control. Phillip just chuckled. He was experienced in not only horseflesh, but the far more tender flesh of young women. They too often tested their boundaries and yet, to the last one, he calmly and emphatically taught them there was only one person in charge—and it definitely wasn’t them.
He waited until they had ridden down the track before turning the horse towards the fence that bordered his acreage.
“Ready, boy?” he asked, and when the horse snorted and pawed the ground, gave him his head. “Then, let’s race, shall we?”
The horse leapt forward and within a short distance, Phillip could feel the animal’s powerful muscles bunch a moment before he took flight, easily clearing the railing of the fence surrounding the property. They galloped through the field and both man and beast enjoyed the feeling of freedom that came from racing flat out. Phillip didn’t begin to rein Racer in until they’d ridden for a half-hour. Slowly, he pulled back until Racer was trotting, his sides heaving from the exercise.
“Good boy,” Phillip said, giving the horse another pat. “Now, you’ve had your fun, it’s time for mine.” They jumped the fence again and rode away from his property and back to the streets of the city at a more sedate pace. Once at the school, he dismounted and led Racer around a corner to the carriage house.
“I’ll brush him down, sir,” Alton said, taking the reins.
“Thank you,” Phillip said, pulling an apple from his pocket and, holding it in his palm, allowed the horse to take it from his hand. “Give him a measure of oats and make sure he has fresh water.”
“I will, sir. He’s a fine looking animal. What’s his name?”
“Racer,” Phillip said. “Oh, wait a minute.” The man did so as Phillip untied a package he’d looped around the pommel earlier. Once it was free, he gave Racer a final pat and then turned back towards the house. Pulling his watch from his pocket, he realized he’d taken a bit longer riding than he’d planned. Still, he couldn’t find fault in the decision. Racer needed the exercise and he’d enjoyed it immensely himself.
Instead of walking up the front path, he veered around the side of the house. Taking the same route they’d taken a week earlier, he quickened his steps until he reached the bench beneath the tree where Lilly had been perched. Looking about, he admitted he was disappointed not to see her crouched behind the rose bushes, and chuckled when he actually looked up into the tree as if expecting to find her among its branches. Removing the string and brown paper from the parcel, he moved behind the rose bushes, truly noticing for the first time that the area was indeed untended. Smiling, he walked to where he’d found the basket, pleased to see it gone and hoping she’d used the salve.
“Make sure you stay right here,” he said, squatting to set his gift beneath a group of red roses. He tucked in his note and then straightened. Looking towards the break in the hedge, he considered moving his gift to the opening. Would that ensure that Lilly would find it? When he was still trying to decide after five minutes, he chuckled. “She’ll either find it or she won’t,” he said softly, praying silently that she would indeed.
He returned to the house, the wrapping paper in hand until he found a trash bin. Hearing the sounds of happy women, he smiled and went to join them.
“Uncle Phillip!”
He braced himself as Rachel launched herself into his arms. Kissing her cheek, he set her back. “Any fighting this week?”
“No, sir,” she said with wide eyes and a grin. “I learned my lesson last week! I even wore a white ribbon today!”
“And that’s good?” he asked, seeing the blue ribbon in her hair.
“Oh, yes,” she said and then seemed to remember something. “Um, I don’t think I’m supposed to tell anyone who, um… who…”
“Doesn’t have a special little one?” Phillip offered, and at her nod, he bent to kiss her cheek. “I won’t tell,” he whispered, and at her look of thanks, he remembered writing those same words a week earlier. Glancing behind him, he looked at the garden paths leading in several directions and though he knew he’d not spot a certain woman, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of many blooms that made this little spot of land a true Eden on the outside, while lovely young women were discovering their own way to paradise inside.
Phillip enjoyed yet another delicious meal. When someone asked Rachel if she’d enjoyed the museum, he heard Douglas moan.
“Don’t get her started,” he warned, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner,
“Papa!” Rachel admonished and then squealed when he pushed back his chair and easily pulled her to sit on his lap.
“Go ahead, angel, tell them about your dragon,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
She gave a soft moan and when he lifted his lips, the smile she gave was dazzling. Tuning out the story as he’d already heard it, Phillip observed the men and women who joined him around the large dining room table. Inside these walls, these women were free to be the little girls they were within their hearts and souls, and the men were free to indulge in their desire to take care of their special little one.
Phillip had seen a great deal of these people outside of Eleanor’s school. The men, dressed in formal clothing, escorted their chosen partners, who wore their hair up in elaborate coiffures, wearing long gowns of the latest fashion, their breathing restricted by tightly laced corsets, and their faces painted with rouge. He had no problem admitting they looked beautiful.
And yet, looking around the table, seeing smiles and hearing giggles, he saw true beauty. Within these walls, the women had no need of face paint, wore clothing that made them happy, and shed the restrictions society placed on them with stifling rules of proper etiquette. Here there was no need to rein in excitement, or hesitancy to voice a deep-seated desire. Giggles, squeals, sobs and moans were freely expressed and never judged to be wrong. Here they were free to be themselves, to indulge in what made them feel fulfilled, and with that freedom, to offer their joy and their submission, their acceptance of a different list of rules, their papas making sure they knew they were truly cherished.
When the meal was finished, Phillip watched as couples moved away from the table. He noticed that each young woman picked up a book off a table by the door as they exited the room, passing them to their respective papas.
“Would you care to join me for a drink?” Eleanor asked after Rachel had kissed Phillip’s cheek and left with Douglas.
“I’d love to, but I do ask that you give me a moment. I need to take a stroll through your gardens if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t but would you mind if I joined you?”
Phillip offered her his arm and the two were soon walking down the
path.
“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you are heading towards the unkempt gardens?” Eleanor asked.
“I don’t think much surprises you, Eleanor,” Phillip said with a grin.
“You don’t really expect Lilly to be here this late, do you?” Eleanor asked as they neared the bend leading to the bench.
“No, but I’m hoping to discover that she has been here.”
Eleanor didn’t say anything but simply walked beside him, and when he led her to the bench, she released his arm and took a seat. Phillip again walked behind the row of bushes. Arriving at his hiding spot, he was pleased to see that not only had the heavy roses been snipped to be tucked into a flower basket, his gift had also been taken. He was even more pleased to see the piece of paper, held down by a small stone lying on the ground. Picking it up, he realized that the light was too dim to read the lines left on the back of his note. Tucking the pencil he’d left for her to use into his pocket, he returned to where Eleanor was patiently waiting.
“Are you going to leave me in suspense?” she asked, rising when he offered his arm.
“No, I’m actually hoping that I’ll be asking you a favor,” Phillip said, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow.
“I see. Does this favor have anything to do with a certain flower girl?”
“I surely hope so,” Phillip said, wondering what she would say if he admitted his heart had skipped a beat in seeing something as simple as a piece of paper.
Once back in her office, she poured them a generous amount of bourbon as he took a seat in one of the matching chairs before her desk. With the sound of her clearing her throat, he looked up with an abashed smile.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said, offering one of the glasses to him before taking her seat. “Care to share what has so captured your attention? I’m not known to be a patient woman, Phillip.”
“You are known for paddling little girls who tell such fibs,” he said with a grin.
“True,” she admitted, lifting her glass in a toast. “Let me clarify. I’m about to die of curiosity.”
“I can’t have that,” he said, “especially not when I need your help.” Lifting the note, he said, “May I?”
“Oh, please do. I so adore love notes.”
Phillip didn’t bother to correct her choice of words as his heart did another little stutter. Taking a sip of his drink, he swallowed and explained. “I left Lilly a gift earlier tonight and… well, extended her an invitation. That’s where the favor comes in.”
Eleanor nodded but didn’t speak.
“I asked her to tea and she gave me her answer.”
Looking down, he read:
Lord Carrington,
Miss Bushy and I wish to thank you for your invitation to tea. It is very kind of you to let me choose the day and time when I am free. It would be most convenient for me if three o’clock, a week from today, is agreeable with your schedule.
Thank you for the gift of the salve, as well as my new friend. I wonder if she’s a member of the family that adopted you? If so, perhaps she’ll be kind enough to tell me another story about your time together. If not, I hope that you’ll do so during our time together.
Sincerely,
Lillian Lancaster
PS: I did manage to wash, apply the salve and keep it clean. The scratch is almost completely healed thanks to your kindness.
Folding the note and tucking in inside his pocket, he looked up. “So, I need to ask your permission to not only use your garden but, well, to ask if I could have a tea party amongst your flowers.” When Eleanor didn’t immediately answer, but looked towards the windows where the gardens would be in view if it were still daylight, he felt a stirring of unease.
“You don’t approve?”
“Oh, it’s not that I don’t approve,” Eleanor said, returning her gaze to him. “I’m just considering the timing.” She paused but he didn’t rush her. It was a few moments before she spoke again. “Since you are not an official client, you have no way of knowing that Sundays are a special day for our girls.” When he did begin to speak, she waved her hand, stilling him.
“I know you realize that Sunday is the day on which the girl’s papas come to visit even if they’ve enjoyed additional visits throughout the week. It is the day when a very strict schedule is adhered to. I was just considering the timing of your tea party.” She gave him a smile. “I don’t think it will interfere with the girls’ schedule as they will be napping by then.”
“I didn’t even consider your schedule, and I apologize.”
“No need to apologize,” Eleanor assured him. “I think it is a lovely idea.”
“You do?”
Her laugh was delightful as she nodded. “Yes, Phillip, I do. Far be it for me or anyone else to judge how two people are drawn together. I believe that it takes a bit of fate, a bit of guidance from above, and the ability to follow your instincts, as well as your heart, to find that one person put on this earth who is truly your other half.”
Phillip didn’t correct her. The moment he’d seen those green eyes, he’d been intrigued. Talking with Lilly—well, debating and negotiating really—had captivated him. And he was honest enough to admit that the feelings she evoked when she’d pressed her slim body to him, holding him tight, her breath against his neck, not only had his body responding on a physical level, his emotions also became totally engaged. He’d immediately known that this girl was special. It was still to be seen if she felt even a modicum of attraction to him, but only time, and time spent together, would give him that answer.
“I can’t thank you enough, Eleanor. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
“Don’t be silly. There is no need for you to worry about that. My cook would love to have a hand in bringing you two together, especially if it involves food. I promise, your Lilly won’t leave your tea party hungry.”
Phillip stood and, bending down, kissed her cheek. “As I said before, you are an amazing woman, Eleanor.”
*
Lilly’s eyes kept moving between the flowers she was trimming and the stuffed squirrel that shared her small worktable. She’d been shocked to discover the grey animal sitting beneath the rose blooms but had instantly fallen in love with the stuffie. A very bushy tail curled around the squirrel’s body. It was so soft, and the inspiration for her name. Lilly remembered every word of the note written on the piece of paper she’d found tucked between the stuffie’s paws.
Miss Lilly –
Mr. Squirrel and I would be very happy if you would join us for a tea party among the flowers. Please let me know what day and time would be best for you. I hope you say yes and enjoy Mr. Squirrel’s company until then. I promise there will be no bugs served.
Yours,
Phillip Carrington
PS: I hope your arm is healing well.
She’d been shocked that he had not only known her name, but had actually extended an invitation to tea. It took her a moment to deduce that he’d learned her name from the woman who had witnessed Mrs. Hollis screaming it that awful day. As for his invitation, she had been about to decline when she’d looked at his gift. The squirrel seemed to be frowning slightly.
“You are far too soft and lovely to be a male squirrel. I suppose we need to attend if just to inform Lord Carrington that you are Miss Bushy. Do you agree?” She didn’t bother to stifle her giggle when she reached over and moved the stuffed animal, so it appeared that Miss Bushy’s nod indicated that she did agree indeed. Using the pencil he’d thoughtfully left, she had written her acceptance. She almost wished she could see his expression as he read her words and realized that she could indeed read and write quite legibly.
It wasn’t until she had finished preparing her vase of flowers and taken Miss Bushy to bed with her that she began to have doubts. Why on earth would a man such as he want to have tea with a girl such as she? He was a titled member of the ton and she was nothing but a flower girl. Turning onto
her side, her arms wrapped around the soft animal, she had no answer that satisfied her. All she knew was that something had pulled at her to accept his invitation. She hadn’t attended a tea party in years, but remembered that she’d served hundreds of cups of pretend tea surrounded by her favorite dolls and stuffed animals. Giving the squirrel another squeeze, she pressed her face into the soft fur and fought not to shed the tears that were pressing against her eyelids. Seeing his face in her mind, she concentrated on his blue eyes and the dimple that appeared in his cheek when he had smiled, telling his silly story. The urge to cry disappeared as she hoped that he would tell her another. Maybe it was time to let the past go and maybe… just maybe… she could find a future that brought her peace.
Chapter Six
Phillip quickly learned that, according to Eleanor’s cook, Belinda Yardley, a proper garden tea party entailed far more than he’d imagined. “You are aware that there will only be two of us?”
“Tell me, Lord Carrington, exactly how many picnics have you prepared? Not attended, mind you, but prepared the meal or even packed the basket? Hmm?”
“None,” he admitted, enjoying the show as the plump woman who ruled the kitchen bustled about the room.
“That’s what I thought. A good host ensures a wide variety of offerings,” Belinda said as she tucked yet another packet into a basket sitting on the large worktable. “I imagine you are trying to impress your guest?”
“Well, yes,” Phillip admitted.
“Then imagine how unimpressed she’d be if the only sustenance you provided was a cucumber sandwich when she really had a craving for a taste of egg salad?”
“Or chicken, or ham or…” He lifted his hands in surrender when she dropped her hands to her ample hips and gave him a look that he was absolutely positive was same one she shared with the naughty girls sent to her domain to serve penance by performing kitchen duties.
