9. Chapter 9 #2
Not that he could blame the poor souls. Having twelve sisters had taught him how frightfully unfair life was for the fairer sex.
There were only two socially acceptable paths for a young lady: marry well or become independently wealthy.
Since the second depended completely on fate, most young women had to apply their efforts toward the first option.
He sighed as the butler took his greatcoat.
Phillipa nodded as if he’d spoken his relief aloud. “I heartily agree, it’s nice to be out of the carriage.” Her gaze strayed up the stairs to the disappearing form of their father and stepmother.
The atmosphere had been unusually tense, with conversation rather stilted as they swayed back and forth in the carriage.
At first, he’d assumed his stepmother’s downcast spirit must be dampening his father’s mood, but when he snapped at Phillipa for asking too many questions, Algenon realized something was off.
His father rarely ever raised his voice to the women in their family.
It was so out of character that Algenon studied him closely after he fell asleep halfway through the journey. The lines in his father’s forehead appeared deeper than usual, as if he had not slept well. When the carriage hit a rut in the road, he winced and his hand had cupped the side of his head.
Headaches were rare for his sire, but on the occasion they occurred, they were often debilitating. No wonder he’d immediately retreated to his room.
“I suppose we are on our own for dinner,” he said.
“On the contrary, you will have to escort Louisa and me this evening. We are engaged to dine at the Duke of Bedford’s and I refuse to miss out on such an opportunity.”
It was not the first time he’d heard his sister refer to their stepmother by her first name, but it still jarred his senses.
Her Christian name brought her youthfulness to the forefront of his thoughts, which was exactly why he never used it.
Then the second part of Phillipa’s proclamation registered, and a smile split his face.
The Duke of Bedford was Eddie and Melior’s uncle and one of the people Algenon looked up to.
A man of conviction who actually cared enough about the country to attend Parliament regularly was a rarity among his father’s friends.
However, it was His Grace’s dedication to family and those he considered family that most impressed Algenon.
His Grace had been devoted to his first wife until her passing three years ago.
Having never been able to have children of their own, they had doted on their niece and nephews, giving them every advantage.
Even after Her Grace passed away and the duke had remarried and fathered a son, he’d still made certain Eddie and his older brother would have a decent living.
Tonight would be a social treat, especially since Algenon’s father would not be there to suppress both his politics and his spirit.
Phillipa removed her hat, some of her reddish blonde curls falling loose from their pins. When he remained silent, she narrowed her eyes at him.
“We have not been here long enough for you to claim a prior engagement, so do not think you can get out of this so easy. I need to make a good first impression.”
Algenon drew his eyebrows together, concerned at how focused Phillipa was on having the perfect first season. “Phil, relax. Why not just plan to enjoy yourself?”
“Do not call me that in public, Algenon. It is bad enough that Father sometimes forgets and calls me Phillip. I want everyone to see me for the woman I am and not the boy Father wished we all would have been.”
Phillipa’s slender shoulders drooped as she worked to remove her gloves one finger at a time. When they were free, she gave the gloves to the butler, then rubbed her hands briskly together. Whether from cold or distress, Algenon could not tell.
Gently, he took one of Phillipa’s fidgeting hands in his.
“I have every intention of taking you this evening, but I worry you are putting too much pressure on yourself to be an instant success in the marriage mart. You are young, Phillipa. You will have the rest of your life to be a married woman. Enjoy where you are at.”
The right side of Phillipa’s mouth twitched as if she wanted to smile but could not let go of her nervousness long enough to allow her face to complete the action.
“I shall try, as long as you promise to scare off all the men Father sends my way. I love him, but Henrietta and Georgette warned me about his choice of suitors. I believe the word they both used was deplorable when speaking of his husband choosing abilities.”
Algenon froze. “He tried to choose their husbands?”
“Not exactly. Paulette, you remember, already had a young man when she entered the season, but Henrietta and Georgette said Father would practically shove them toward the men he wanted them to marry. Most of them were too old or as dull as plain toast. Thankfully Georgette had Louisa to help her along, but poor Henrietta had to stand her ground more than once when Father became too insistent about a suitor.”
This was news to Algenon. He had never seen his father pressure any of the girls, but he’d also gone about his own business each season, only stepping in when his father inevitably became remiss on his chaperoning duties.
Perhaps, like with Henrietta and Georgette, his father’s pressure on him would shift when another viable option arose.
The only option in his mind, however, would never be acceptable to his father.
“I shall do my best to distract Father and only send the best of gentlemen your way,” he promised. “And in return, might you also convince him to stop insisting that I court Miss Weston?”
Phillipa’s cute button nose wrinkled. “Is that the reason Lord Falcross came to stay? No wonder you were in such a foul mood. That woman makes my head hurt. She has the most obnoxious way of speaking, like all of us owe her a debt of gratitude for simply existing.”
Algenon chuckled and held out his arm to lead her up the stairs. “Then we agree. Neither of us shall give into Father’s pressure if we can help it.”
She took his arm, her grey eyes dancing with delight. “Absolutely. Unless that pressure is toward the person who fills our hearts with the greatest joy and deepest longing.”
“Wouldn’t that be lovely?”
Phillipa grinned at him and he smiled back, not wanting to dampen her spirits. She was certain to marry the man of her choosing, even if Father made a nuisance of himself. He, however, might have to be the sacrificial lamb.
“At least I will have Cindy to keep me company. We will have ever so much to talk about tonight. Hopefully, she’s not finalized her schedule for this week.”
Had his ears deceived him? “Are the Harrises attending the duke’s dinner party as well?”
Phillipa wiggled her eyebrows. “They are. Now, are you not glad you agreed to attend us?”