To Woo a Widow (The Heart of a Duke #10)(28)

Her earlier courage faltered. She’d spent so much of her life trying to gain the approval of her mother, her father, her brothers, and then husband; a fear of their disappointment had become an unwelcome part of who she was. “Thank you,” she forced herself to say.

…Your eyes speak a tale of a woman of strength… Even if you do not see it in yourself. Which you should… Miles’ words echoed around her mind and she firmed her jaw. She was a woman of her own now. She’d returned to her family’s home because they’d asked her here, but she needn’t stay and be subjected to admonishments like she was a child who didn’t know her own mind. Nor would she hide away in her chambers any longer. Bringing her shoulders back, Philippa started for the door.

Jane placed herself in Philippa’s path, halting her forward stride.

Philippa looked questioningly at the shorter woman.

“When I met your brother, I despised him.”

She opened and closed her mouth several times. “Beg pardon?”

“Loathed him from the moment I met him,” Jane clarified.

Having been away in the country during one of her many confinements, she’d not known the details of how her brothers, Gabriel or Alex’s, marriages had come to be. Given the love she’d seen between Gabriel and his wife, however, she’d never dare suspect that there had ever been animosity.

“You look surprised,” Jane said with a wry smile.

“I am,” she conceded. “You seem very much in love.” She furrowed her brow. Surely she’d not been wrong in her supposition.

“Oh, you are not wrong,” Jane said, correctly interpreting her unspoken wonderings. “You see, I judged all men by the manner of person my own father was.” The Duke of Ravenscourt. As the duke’s illegitimate daughter, life could not have been an easy one for Jane and still, she’d become this magnificently strong woman. Appreciation stirred anew. Jane waved the box in her hand about. “The point I am trying to make, Philippa, is that your husband was cruel, I suspect?”

She stiffened. “How…” Her mind spun. “Why…?” How had this woman seen when not even her own sister or her mother or brothers had?

“You carry your sadness in your whole person,” Jane said softly. “Or you did. These past few days, I’ve seen joy in you that I’ve not seen in the six months in which you’ve lived here.”

Miles. Unable to meet her sister-in-law’s gaze, she glanced down at her feet. She’d hidden her every emotion for so very long, she didn’t know how to share that intimate truth.

“I do not know the struggles that were yours, Philippa,” Jane said, taking one of Philippa’s hands in hers. She gave it a slight squeeze and then released it. “And I only know the demons your brother has shared of his own hell. But sometimes, there is light and there is goodness and there is love…and good men. If you are fortunate enough to find one.”

Men who’d pick blooms with her daughter and whisper of moonflowers in her good ear. Men who’d attempt to do right by a widow when Society would never expect it of him. Philippa clasped her hands together and stared at the interlocked digits. “What if you can’t give a gentleman what he requires…?” Her cheeks warmed. “For an heir.”

Her sister-in-law laughed softly, forcing Philippa’s gaze up. “Then I expect he is not one of those good ones and you are better off without.” She opened the box in her hands and drew out a thick gold chain. A heart filigree pendant dangled from the end, twisting and twirling on the strand. “I want you to have this,” she murmured.

Philippa stared at the necklace. “It is lovely.”

“There is a story behind this piece,” Jane explained. “It was once given to me by the Duchess of Crawford when I was just married to your brother…and then shared with others, after.” She stared down with a faraway look in her eyes, studying the pendant with an almost reverent expression. “The legend is the wearer will earn the heart of a duke, but what other women have found is that with it comes love.”

Unease knotted Philippa’s belly as Jane held the necklace out. She held her hands up imploringly. “I…” Cannot. Would not. Do not wish to. She didn’t desire a duke or a husband… Or she hadn’t… Now, since Miles, it had all become so very muddled.

Jane stepped back and stared patiently. Her meaning clear: the decision ultimately rested in Philippa’s hands. And when nothing had truly rested in her power, this offering meant so very much. Even if it was a silly talisman worn by hopeful debutantes searching for a duke. Wordlessly, Philippa turned around and lifted the curls draped over her shoulders.

“I had to do a bit of work to find its whereabouts,” Jane murmured as she settled the chain about Philippa’s neck. The faint click of the clasp resounded in the quiet room. “There,” she confirmed.

A sharp charge of heat singed Philippa’s neck and she touched her hands to her throat. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“Do not thank me.” She held out her elbow. “Shall we?”

Philippa cleared her throat. “I’ll join you shortly. I would pay a visit to the nursery, first.” The other woman looked as though she wished to say something more, but with a smile, turned and took her leave.

With Jane gone, Philippa made her way from her room, down the long corridor to the nursery, thinking on her sister-in-law’s words…about love and marriage. Those dreams she’d long since given up on for herself. Some women, such as Jane, were blessed with joyous unions and then others…well, others were Philippa. Women who, if they were fortunate, had children who could fill all the voids inside an aching heart.