A Second Chance at Love, A Regency Romance (A Danby Family Novella) Read Online Free
Author: Lilia Birney
the false social constructs that drove them apart. Roughly, he tugged at her bodice, tearing the ridiculously high collar that concealed her graceful neck.
Emily gasped, pushing away from him. "Philip, please. The carriage has stopped. We must be in Sheffield."
"Come with you? To ask the duke's help?" Emily glanced up at Philip hopefully.
He sat back, as though disconcerted by her response. "I suppose so. Your aunt and uncle live close by, after all. I could deliver you to their home, and you could come to Danby to speak with Grandfather—if that's what you truly wish."
"Oh, Philip. Thank you so much." Emily reached out and took his hand. "The journey won't be half so tiresome if we can travel with you. And I will feel better about asking the duke myself rather than begging intermediaries to do so."
Philip closed his eyes and brought their joined hands up to his lips. "Then it is settled."
Emily tried to free herself. That sounded so final, as though she had agreed to something she didn't fully understand. "Philip, please. We shouldn't even be here like this. You make me—uncomfortable."
He opened her hand, his mouth gently teasing her palm. Shivers ran up her arm, causing her shoulders to jerk. "Good," Philip rejoined. "Then we have something in common. You make me uncomfortable too."
With her free hand, Emily clutched her shawl more tightly. "I am afraid I gave you the wrong impression, Lord Philip, by allowing you to kiss me earlier. I-I'm not…" Emily trailed off uncertainly. That kind of girl? She always seemed to turn into that kind of girl around Philip Whitton. His hold on her sensibilities was nothing short of remarkable.
"Call me Lord Philip one more time, and you will answer the consequences, Mrs. Barlow. I'd chuck the bloody title into the sea if it would change anything. If it meant not spending the last two years in torment."
Anger surged in Emily, bubbling to the surface. What, after all, did the coddled grandson of a duke know of suffering? "Torment? What torment? Didn't you say you had been abroad? Where were you, then?"
Philip's head snapped up and he regarded her evenly. "Rome. I was studying music."
"How bad could that have been?" Emily stared at him, confusion overriding anger. Honestly, Philip had grown up with such luxury, such privilege. What did he know of penury? Most people would give their last pound for a trip to Italy—all expenses paid, surely, thanks to the duke.
He finally let go her hand, and bereft of his touch, her own hand was icy cold and trembling. "It was bad enough." He sighed. As if casting aside an unwinnable argument, he sat back, leaning against the bedpost. "Rose is sweet," he muttered.
Ah, there was Philip again. The same abrupt changes in topic, the same quick flashes of temper followed by mellow introspection that had marked his personality as long as she'd known him. "Thank you. She is a darling."
"Two years old, you say? You must have had her very quickly after your marriage." He scanned her face carefully.
Heat suffused Emily's cheeks. "Yes, I did. Charles wanted a family very quickly."
"And…so close on the heels of our own affair…" He trailed off, but the intensity of his dark gaze made Emily catch her breath.
"We never let things go that far, Philip. You and I both know that." She kept her tone quiet and even, the same voice she would use when comforting Rose after a fall.
"I would have gone further." The words had a slight edge of challenge.
"Oh, Philip, I would have too." The admission took a burden off her heart. It didn't feel sinful to confess the depth of her feelings to her former lover—no matter how scandalous they were. "But—"
"No." Philip held up a hand to stop her. "Just let me have that."
They sat together in silence for a moment, and he rose from her bed. "Emily, we will travel together to Danby. Whenever you're ready to go, we'll go."
She nodded. A brief pang of regret clutched at her chest once more. Why not give
Emily gasped, pushing away from him. "Philip, please. The carriage has stopped. We must be in Sheffield."
"Come with you? To ask the duke's help?" Emily glanced up at Philip hopefully.
He sat back, as though disconcerted by her response. "I suppose so. Your aunt and uncle live close by, after all. I could deliver you to their home, and you could come to Danby to speak with Grandfather—if that's what you truly wish."
"Oh, Philip. Thank you so much." Emily reached out and took his hand. "The journey won't be half so tiresome if we can travel with you. And I will feel better about asking the duke myself rather than begging intermediaries to do so."
Philip closed his eyes and brought their joined hands up to his lips. "Then it is settled."
Emily tried to free herself. That sounded so final, as though she had agreed to something she didn't fully understand. "Philip, please. We shouldn't even be here like this. You make me—uncomfortable."
He opened her hand, his mouth gently teasing her palm. Shivers ran up her arm, causing her shoulders to jerk. "Good," Philip rejoined. "Then we have something in common. You make me uncomfortable too."
With her free hand, Emily clutched her shawl more tightly. "I am afraid I gave you the wrong impression, Lord Philip, by allowing you to kiss me earlier. I-I'm not…" Emily trailed off uncertainly. That kind of girl? She always seemed to turn into that kind of girl around Philip Whitton. His hold on her sensibilities was nothing short of remarkable.
"Call me Lord Philip one more time, and you will answer the consequences, Mrs. Barlow. I'd chuck the bloody title into the sea if it would change anything. If it meant not spending the last two years in torment."
Anger surged in Emily, bubbling to the surface. What, after all, did the coddled grandson of a duke know of suffering? "Torment? What torment? Didn't you say you had been abroad? Where were you, then?"
Philip's head snapped up and he regarded her evenly. "Rome. I was studying music."
"How bad could that have been?" Emily stared at him, confusion overriding anger. Honestly, Philip had grown up with such luxury, such privilege. What did he know of penury? Most people would give their last pound for a trip to Italy—all expenses paid, surely, thanks to the duke.
He finally let go her hand, and bereft of his touch, her own hand was icy cold and trembling. "It was bad enough." He sighed. As if casting aside an unwinnable argument, he sat back, leaning against the bedpost. "Rose is sweet," he muttered.
Ah, there was Philip again. The same abrupt changes in topic, the same quick flashes of temper followed by mellow introspection that had marked his personality as long as she'd known him. "Thank you. She is a darling."
"Two years old, you say? You must have had her very quickly after your marriage." He scanned her face carefully.
Heat suffused Emily's cheeks. "Yes, I did. Charles wanted a family very quickly."
"And…so close on the heels of our own affair…" He trailed off, but the intensity of his dark gaze made Emily catch her breath.
"We never let things go that far, Philip. You and I both know that." She kept her tone quiet and even, the same voice she would use when comforting Rose after a fall.
"I would have gone further." The words had a slight edge of challenge.
"Oh, Philip, I would have too." The admission took a burden off her heart. It didn't feel sinful to confess the depth of her feelings to her former lover—no matter how scandalous they were. "But—"
"No." Philip held up a hand to stop her. "Just let me have that."
They sat together in silence for a moment, and he rose from her bed. "Emily, we will travel together to Danby. Whenever you're ready to go, we'll go."
She nodded. A brief pang of regret clutched at her chest once more. Why not give
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