To Woo a Widow (The Heart of a Duke #10)(29)

For the past six years, all her mornings and most of her days were spent with her children. They’d been the sole focus of her existence and, in them, she found a calming peace. She pressed the handle of the nursery and paused.

Squeals of laughter reached through the wood panel and she pushed the door open. Faith sat on the floor and Violet tottered back and forth, ambling into the older girl’s arms.

The sight of her daughters’ joyous smiles and flushed cheeks, stirred happiness in her heart. It had been just them for so very long. While he’d been alive, Calvin had demanded decorum from his wife and daughter, and frowned on public displays of affection and mirth. Now, there was a house full of family who celebrated in her presence.

Faith looked up. “Mama,” she cried and raced over. She hurled herself into Philippa’s arms with such force, she knocked her back.

Laughing, Philippa righted them and held her daughter close. “I am going to take breakfast,” she said, tweaking her nose. “To see if Cook’s sticky buns are still warm.” She dropped to a knee and opened her arms as Violet rushed forward. She closed her eyes a moment welcoming the reassuring weight of her daughter’s small form.

“Mama,” Violet cooed.

Her daughter skipped over to the stack of blocks she’d abandoned. “I’ve eaten. Violet and I are to visit the gardens with nurse.”

“You’ve eaten?” she parroted, surprise creeping into her tone.

Since she’d been old enough to walk and seek out Philippa, her daughter had always come first to her chambers and they’d always taken their morning meal together. A little pang struck her chest. “Yes,” Faith said loudly. “There are sticky buns,” she said, her attention reserved for the tower she now devoted her attentions to.

Violet squirmed in Philippa’s embrace, pushing back until Philippa set her on her unsteady feet once more. With slow, ambling steps, the baby rejoined her sister.

And Philippa was—forgotten.

Calling out another goodbye, her daughters remained fixed on their playing. Philippa backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy about their enjoyment…it was just that…they’d had a morning routine.

…You are not just your children… As she walked through the halls on her way to the breakfast rooms, Jane’s words danced once more around her mind and she frowned. For the truth was, motherhood had been the sole purpose of her existence these years. Only someday, her daughters would be gone and who would she be? Unnerved by that question of her far-distant future, she reached the breakfast room and entered.

Her mother sat beside Chloe, with Gabriel and Jane at the opposite end of the long mahogany table. Holding her breath, Philippa stepped further inside and braced for the sharp cries and furious demands. Except…

“Good morning, Philippa,” Gabriel greeted.

He sipped his coffee and Mother attended her breakfast plate and… There was no grand display of disappointment. Philippa took a tentative step toward the sideboard. Was it possible Lord Montfort, the witness to her embrace with Miles, had said nothing?

“Gabriel,” she said quietly and proceeded to fill a plate. She then carried it to the seat alongside Jane. After all, if questions of scandal were raised, a place beside her undaunted sister-in-law was the very place she wished to be. She settled a napkin on her lap and reached for her fork. Her eyes went to the copy of The Times beside her brother’s dish and she momentarily froze. Wetting her lips, she crept her fingers toward that sheet. Her hand touched the edge of the paper just as she registered the absolute silence.

“Are you taking my copy of The Times?”

She blinked, fingers frozen like a child who’d been caught with her hand in Cook’s pastries. “Uh…” Yes, yes she was. Then, isn’t that how Gabriel, Alex, and mother had always seen her? As a fragile miss in need of protection? “You aren’t really reading it though, are you?” she asked needlessly.

Surprise flashed in Gabriel’s eyes. Approval in Jane’s. And confusion in Mother’s. Taking advantage of their distraction, Philippa cleared her throat and swiped the paper. And proceeded to skim her gaze over the page intently searching for two damning names. She opened the copy and skimmed. Surely she could not be so very fortunate that the gentleman would prove honorable and not share what he’d observed?

“I have Lady Audley coming again for tea,” Mother said.

Of course that was intended for her. She tightened her mouth and continued her search.

“And her son,” Mother added.

At the strident note in her determined mama’s tone, she smiled, welcoming the concealment of the paper. “Are they?” Philippa replied, not taking her attention from her search. She flipped to the last page of The Times. Nothing. There was no mention. A giddy sense of relief filled her and she set it down.

“As I was saying,” her mother said with a deepening frown. “I have Lady Audley coming over.” Again.

“That is lovely,” she said, picking up her fork and knife and proceeded to carve a piece of breakfast ham. “Have a most wonderful visit.”

Gabriel’s lips twitched. Hmm. He was capable of smiling; once more proving his wife’s powerful influence.

“I was asking you to join Lady Audley and I,” her mother said impatiently.