Addicted to the Duke (Imperfect Lords #1)(90)
“I thought I’d take Drake and Henry fishing tomorrow.”
She wanted to hug him for the offer, considering a moment ago she’d thought he resented her son. “They would love that. Thank you.”
“You are never too young to learn how to catch salmon. Watching them jumping out of the water…I still remember my first fishing trip with Robert and Father.” Philip’s smile dimmed and he rolled away from her onto his back.
Philip had still not gotten over his brother’s death. She used to try and talk to him about it, but he refused to discuss the subject and got angry with her for bringing it up. She knew he felt guilt that he survived when his brother did not, but Robert was a grown man, he made his own decisions, and going to war was one of them.
She reached out and took his large hand in hers and squeezed. He didn’t squeeze back. Portia wished she could learn his thoughts. Where did he go when these moods came upon him?
The silence lengthened, their intimate moment destroyed by Robert’s ghost. A far too often occurrence of late.
Finally, Philip rose, and donning a robe pulled the bell to summon his valet. When the man appeared, Philip said, “Wilson, can you arrange for a bath to be drawn, and also draw one for Her Grace in her dressing room?”
“Very good, my lord.” He bowed and left. Wilson had been Robert’s valet and he asked to stay and valet for Philip. He was the soul of discretion and genuinely seemed to like her. He certainly accepted her presence here in Philip’s room.
Philip walked around to her side of the large four-poster bed and handed her a robe.
“You are right, my sweet. We should be ready and waiting for our guests when they arrive. Cook has planned a light supper in the drawing room, as I suspect they will be tired from the journey, and Drake will be eager to see you.”
He escorted her to the door that linked his master suite to her rooms. He always gave her the rooms connecting with his wherever they stayed. He never tried to hide her away or make her ashamed of the fact they were lovers.
He pressed a brief kiss to her lips and then pushed her through the door into her room, saying, “I’ll be in the study when you are ready. Collect me on the way to the drawing room. We shall greet our guests together. I promise I’ll be out of my sulk by then.” He hesitated before saying, “Rose, I am truly grateful for you agreeing to come all the way to Scotland to be with me for these weeks. I truly have missed you.”
As she closed the door between their rooms and called for her maid, she inwardly smiled. His words were why she stayed with him. Why she stayed with him while hoping for more. He had always owned a piece of her heart, and in moments like this he made her feel the most special woman in the world.
He had never said he loved her, but then she never spoke of love either, but often his actions spoke louder than any words could. He treated her better than many men treated their wives or mistresses.
Slipping into the soothing heated water, she wished she were not such a coward. She wished she could tell him what was in her heart, but her years of being on the other end of this conversation had taught her the signs. Philip didn’t want her love.
He enjoyed her company, her intelligence, her beauty, and they were infinitely compatible in bed. But he did not want more.
Like her, one day he would have to marry. He was an earl, for goodness’ sake. As she lay alone in her tub, all she hoped was that when that day came, either he picked her, or by then her heart would have built a strong, impenetrable fortress around itself, or her world would crumble to dust.