Lord Phillip's Folly

by Susan M. Baganz

  “How can Phillip go into battle for you when he does not fully understand the enemy? Did you believe you were protecting him by not sharing all you knew?” Josie leaned forward, hands clasped in her lap.

  Beth settled back in her chair and inhaled the fragrance from the gardens coming through the open window. “I attempted to impress the gravity of the threat without the specifics from my past. He did not sense the same danger I feared. Perhaps he thought I was a silly female worried about nothing.”

  “I read something the other day from the Holy Bible that reminded me of you. ‘For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rules of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.’ That comes from Ephesians 6:12.”

  Hand to chest, Elizabeth gasped. “Yes. Those words are true.”

  “God has given us tools to fight the evil in this world. Evil is a spiritual force, but that battle can only be done when we place our faith and trust in Jesus.”

  “You mentioned something like this before. I’ve only ever heard curses toward God and His followers.”

  “Those who deny His lordship over their lives are cursed by their own choices. Either you deny Christ by ignoring him, or you admit you have sinned. If you accept the fact that Jesus, a man who was also God, came and died in your place and mine, then you can become a child of God and have a relationship with the Lord of the universe.”

  “Are you saying that if I don’t accept Jesus, I’m siding with the evil that terrifies me and has marked my life?”

  Josie nodded. “Yes.”

  Beth took a deep breath. “I want to choose God over the evil I’ve known. Will you help me?”

  “It’s as simple as that and reading the Bible I gave you.”

  Eyes closed, Beth sent up her silent prayer. Lord, save me and my husband from those who would do us harm. “I think I need time alone.” Beth rose and returned to her room. Settling in a chair with the Bible, she read more. After that, she went to the desk in her room and pulled out stationary. Dipping her pen in the ink she began to write to her husband.

  Dearest Phillip,

  I was not pleased to find you gone this morning. There was so much more I failed to tell you about the evil you face. While you desire to keep me safe, I also long to protect you from any harm that might befall you. Lady Remington shared with me about spiritual warfare and the power of God to fight it. I am praying for your safe return.

  Beth

  ~*~

  Phillip’s journey back to London was uneventful. He experienced some measure of guilt in leaving while Beth slept. Her soft strands of hair spilled across the pillow beckoning him. Everything inside him desired nothing more than to stay in bed with her this morning. Those lips slightly parted in sleep begged to be kissed. What a strange thing marriage was. He needed to stop thinking about her. Duty called and once he’d dispatched the threats to his marriage he’d be free to return to London with his bride or hide away at Stanton Hall whenever he pleased.

  He didn’t bother stopping at his new home, assuming it was probably being watched. He dropped his horse off at the Remington mews and walked to his friend’s home. Handing his hat to the butler, he strode into Marcus’s study unannounced.

  “Marcus. I’ve returned.”

  Lord Remington set his pen aside and quickly sanded the parchment in front of him. He rose to greet his friend. “So, I see.”

  Phillip sighed and paced until Marcus handed him a glass of brandy. He stopped to sip it and savor the burn as a warm languor traversed his body. The fact that he even needed to leave his wife behind when all he longed for was to be with her at Stanton Hall, created a desire to dispatch this problem as soon as possible. Strange that he already missed the wife he never wanted in the first place. What spell had she over him? He bit back a grin. Who cared? He’d enjoy every moment he could when he once again had the opportunity to reunite with her. Emotions were not something he would spend time on.

  “Beth is safely at Rose Hill with Josie?” Marcus asked as he sat down.

  “I’m concerned about leaving her there unprotected.”

  “Why do you think she’d be in danger?”

  Phillip strode to the window and looked outside at the darkening sky. “Something deep inside I cannot shake. I’m uneasy.” He sat the empty glass on the side table. “Not even that helps right now.” He flopped into a seat. “I never desired a wife, Marcus. But now that I have her I would be loathe to lose her.”

  Marcus grinned. “Love has a funny way of taking over, doesn’t it?”

  “I didn’t say anything about love,” Phillip retorted.

  “Really? Let me examine the evidence. You’ve gone out of your way to take care of her needs. You have endured multiple inconveniences to ensure her safety. You miss her, and are worried about her, and finally, the coup de grace, you’ve confessed your concern to a friend.”

  “I thought love was supposed to feel ‘good’ somehow. This is torture.”

  Marcus nodded, his face grim. “I don’t think anyone other than the Lord understood the struggle I endured with everything that happened last year.” He sighed. “It was worth it. I would go through it all again to have Josie safely by my side as my wife.”

  “Your confidence during that time is more than you’re confessing to now. How is that possible?”

  “I recognized that God had a plan. Didn’t mean I liked it at the time. Her rejection, the slander, the distance, and of course that beating that almost killed me…in the end, I needed to trust Him.”

  “It is too simple. I respect your faith and appreciate that you’ve not forced it on me, but I don’t understand how some invisible God can give you peace when your world is falling apart around you and lives are at stake.”

  “Do you believe there is a God?” Marcus asked, his voice soft. The question was sincere.

  Phillip shrugged. “Sure. I just don’t believe He’ll have anything to do with me.”

  “You perceive him as distant, off running the universe, and you can blissfully go on ignoring Him?”

  “Something like that. I leave the holy living to you.”

  “A relationship with God is more than doing the right things. I’ve got my own areas of sin to struggle with. You don’t see me acting like the Puritans condemning everyone who doesn’t believe as I do.”

  “Having some experience with them, I can honestly say, no. Your talk of faith in Jesus seems more humane that some of the religious factions out there, with their sour faces and inability to enjoy life. Surely not all pleasure is sin is it?”

  “I believe Jesus even laughed. He celebrated at a wedding feast and even provided the wine. He held children in his arms. He was more about grace and compassion than a list of do’s and don’t’s. He became angry with those who put the law above care for others.”

  “A God who laughs and enjoys a good party? Now you have me interested.” Phillip grinned at his friend.

  “You just arrived in town and need to shake the dust off from your travels. Let me ring the cook to bring you some food and drink before we discuss matters further. You’ll not think straight to strategize a plan for Beth’s safety while your stomach is rumbling.”

  “Capital idea.”

  “I’ll let the matter of faith drop for now, my friend. Consider what I’ve said. Read the book I gave you and test out my words. Test God. You might be surprised at what you discover.”

  Phillip rose and took a deep breath. “Fair enough. You’ve never pushed but what you’ve said along with how you have lived your life, merits consideration. The least I could do would be to investigate it further.”

  Marcus nodded as he walked with Phillip up the stairs. They parted in the hallway.

  Phillip was a man of his word and he would think about God more…but not right now. He had too many other things vying for his attention.

  Like how to keep his wife safe.

  ~*~

  The B
lack Diamond paced, fury roiling within. His hands clenched. His servants were avoiding him in his foul mood. How could Wolton and Follett falter so completely? He’d guarantee Lizzy wouldn’t be talking. She didn’t know his identity. It was only Wolton’s sect that was in danger. Minor loss to the cause. He’d leave his mark to remind her whose she really was.

  Lord Remington was becoming a pest, however. First, his sister, Henrietta, escaped his clutches by marrying Lord Percy. Then Sir Bastian failed to bring Miss Storm to him. Both times Lord Remington had stepped in to interfere, along with his friends. Oh, he had plans for Sir Michael Tidley. He stopped to savor for a moment the delight that awaited that particular thorn in his flesh. He never suspected Lord Westcombe would get in his way. He’d make him suffer for that. His perfect wife wouldn’t remain that way for long. He’d let Wolton take his due as well.

  9

  Phillip had eaten in silence and savored the glass of port, grateful to put his thoughts on hold for a time. All he could envision was his bride as she slept this morning. Sweet Beth. Had she been furious with him at his departure? Her hair spread like silk across the pillow, her long lashes resting against her cheek. Those lips. If he had awakened her he would have been tempted to stay longer and sample the delights she had for him. It was pure torture walking out that door. His own weakness forced him to skip that farewell kiss.

  After all, it was a kiss like that which led him to marry her in the first place. A fortuitous event. How else could he protect her if not as her husband? And the benefits were beyond what he anticipated. He grinned. And he still couldn’t stop thinking about her. Perhaps he was besotted.

  His respite over, he rose to find Marcus, who had eaten earlier. The hour was late but he doubted he’d sleep well without his wife, or without having some clue about how to protect her better and eliminate the danger that still threatened.

  Marcus rose from the chair he’d been sitting in, reading. “You’re tired, Phillip. This can wait until morning.”

  Phillip shook his head. “No. I need a more positive direction for my thoughts. Perhaps some sort of plan could give me peace.”

  Marcus’s eyebrows rose.

  “Stop. Yes, I will consider what you said about God, but for now, can we focus on a plan?”

  Marcus nodded. “Fair enough. Has Elizabeth shared with you anything about her family, her past, the experiences at Follett Hall?”

  “She was evasive. Not that I blame her. If there was distasteful information to be shared it would have put a damper on our short time together. She made veiled references to evil, and dark forces haunting us, but I’m not sure what that means.”

  “It’s hard to share the bad things when you’re adjusting to marriage. Remember my brother Jared wrote to warn about evil afoot in England. Sir Bastian and Josie’s uncle were definitely not saints and posed a significant threat to her last year. Just because they’ve been dealt with doesn’t mean the danger has been eliminated. From what little Josie shared, it appears we are up against a selfish, misguided desire for them to claim her inheritance for themselves.”

  “Could it really only be about the money? It couldn’t be that simple. I’d gladly pay for her to be free.”

  “The dowry is yours. You married her.”

  “I don’t need the money. I’ve put it in trust for her to use as she wants. I’d gladly pay that amount for her to be free.”

  “Do you have that much?”

  “Barely. I’d need to economize but it could be done.”

  “What if they only want her?”

  “Why?” Phillip gaped. “I appreciate that she has value, but for what reason would Wolton need her when there are plenty of other debutantes with large dowries to be had?”

  “Maybe it’s Follett who needs the money and his daughter in trade for something else?” Marcus mused.

  Phillip shook his head. “Without her telling me or me hearing it from them or from the runner you put in motion, I have nothing to work with.”

  “I’m sorry your life has been so unsettled by this. While you are the perfect agent to protect your wife from the dangers that threaten her or you, you are inadequately prepared.”

  Frowning, Phillip leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that. If you weren’t my friend, I would suspect you of denigrating my manhood and skill in the various masculine arts.” An eyebrow went up as he glanced at his friend.

  “Don’t be offended. I meant no such slight and have great respect for your talents with your fist, sword, and ability to shoot. I could ask for no better friend to stand by my side in an attack, which you have done in the past. You’ve acquitted yourself admirably. However, the enemy you face is beyond the mere human shape of Lord Follett and Lord Wolton. There is evil afoot you are ill-equipped for.”

  “What? Ghosts, goblins, and demons?”

  “Let me ask you this, Phillip. When you experience a sense of dread in your heart of the danger facing you and Beth, is that a physical or spiritual thing?”

  “I never thought of it in those terms. I’d say spiritual.”

  “I believe your enemy is a spiritual being. They do not respond well to fists, swords, or pistols.”

  “How could I ever fight a battle like that?”

  “There are two sides to the coin.”

  “Good and evil.”

  Marcus nodded. “More specifically, God versus Satan.”

  “You believe I’m up against the chief demon of the underworld?”

  “It is possible.”

  “Follett and Wolton are human.”

  “Correct, as are the ruffians likely awaiting you outside your house. But we all serve a spiritual master, whether we acknowledge it or not.”

  “You said you wouldn’t talk about this anymore.”

  “If you were drowning and I had a rope to toss you, would you want me to hide it away as you sink?”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’d hope you’d toss it and pull me to safety. Although I am a good swimmer.”

  “Beside the point. If I have information about spiritual things that could help you in your battle to protect and free your wife from her past, shouldn’t I toss you that rope as well? I’d sure hate to watch you both end up dead because I feared your anger about broaching a subject you dislike.”

  Phillip sighed. “Fine. Throw me the rope.” This should be interesting. In spite of his initial reticence, he found himself intrigued.

  “Either you serve Jesus or Satan. If you refuse to make an intentional choice to repent of your sins and accept the free gift of God’s forgiveness and eternal life, through Christ alone, who died on a cross for you and rose again on the third day—then you have, by default, sided with the enemy you fear, the devil.”

  Phillip shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Dead serious. Understanding this means the difference between life and death for you and your lovely wife.”

  Rubbing his eyes, Phillip rose. “I’m sorry, Marcus. You mean well. I need to think on this and I’m more fatigued than I realized. Maybe tomorrow morning would be a better time to meet.” He stretched. “I’ll seek that bed you mentioned earlier.”

  Marcus rose too. “As long as you’re not avoiding the question. Josie and I are praying for you both, for your salvation and your safety.”

  “I appreciate that. I really do. This is not avoidance. I must think on what you’ve said.”

  “Fair enough. Good night, Phillip.”

  “’Night, Marcus.”

  ~*~

  Phillip dismissed his valet and collapsed into bed. His arm reached across to the other pillow and he experienced a deep emptiness inside. Did Beth miss him? He smiled. Was he in love with his wife? Was it possible to be so quickly attached to a woman he didn’t need or want to begin with and had only married out of a sense of honor? What a pompous fool he’d been to deny the very real void his wife filled in his life. One he’d failed to recognize before. He drifted to sleep, dre
aming of holding her in his arms.

  He awoke with a start. How long had he slept? He rose and listened. Nothing. The room was cloaked in darkness. The window draperies had been closed and the fire banked. Silence. Complete and utter silence. So why was his heart beating so wildly as if there was an imminent threat? Something was wrong. Terror gripped him and he couldn’t shake it. He rose, threw his robe on, and stoked the fire. Striding to the window he opened it letting in the damp night air. The gas lights were lit, casting little puddles of light beneath them. Nothing moved outside.

  He returned to sit by the fireplace and leaned back, deep in thought. On the table was the Bible. Of course. This was Marcus’s home. He took this book seriously and strove to live by its words. Phillip picked it up and let his hand gently touch the cover. What was it about this book that gave Marcus so much confidence and trust in God? Phillip grabbed a branch of candles and lit them so he could see better. He opened the book. Where did one start? The pages fell open to Psalms, chapter five, which read:

  To the chief Musician upon Nehiloth, A Psalm of David. Give ear to my words, O LORD, consider my meditation. Hearken unto the voice of my cry, my King, and my God: for unto thee will I pray. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O LORD; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up. For thou art not a God that hath pleasure in wickedness: neither shall evil dwell with thee. The foolish shall not stand in thy sight: thou hatest all workers of iniquity. Thou shalt destroy them that speak leasing: the LORD will abhor the bloody and deceitful man. But as for me, I will come into thy house in the multitude of thy mercy: and in thy fear will I worship toward thy holy temple. Lead me, O LORD, in thy righteousness because of mine enemies; make thy way straight before my face. For there is no faithfulness in their mouth; their inward part is very wickedness; their throat is an open sepulchre; they flatter with their tongue. Destroy thou them, O God; let them fall by their own counsels; cast them out in the multitude of their transgressions; for they have rebelled against thee. But let all those that put their trust in thee rejoice: let them ever shout for joy, because thou defendest them: let them also that love thy name be joyful in thee. For thou, LORD, wilt bless the righteous; with favour wilt thou compass him as with a shield.