As Philippa’s silence continued, Blair tried once more to remove Amelia. Even now, he was too much of a gentleman to give her the jolly good shove she deserved.
“Philippa, I swear it’s not as it looks.” His hand remained extended. “I know how damning this appears, but I…beg of you, trust me.”
Her bewilderment shattered. Whatever else she believed, she was sure of one truth. Blair Hume wasn’t a man to beg.
If he could lower himself to plead, he wanted her and not her sister, however beautiful, however manipulative. She sucked in what felt like the first clean air since she’d caught Amelia in Blair’s arms. Even that was up for interpretation. He could have been trying to push her away, instead of holding her close.
“Let him go, Amelia,” she said sharply. “It hasn’t worked.”
“Philippa?” Blair’s voice was as shaky as minutes ago, hers had been. “You’ll still marry me?”
Amelia had unwittingly done her a favor. At last, she felt in control of her life. She met Blair’s troubled green gaze. “Of course I will.”
Amelia paled and sidled closer to him. “You can’t mean to hold him against his will.”
Philippa found it in her to smile at her sister. How odd that this nasty little scene had shown her what she wanted from life. “You overdid the theatricals, sister,” she said drily. “I hope you’re saving some acting talent for when you stand up as my bridesmaid tomorrow morning.”
Fury distorted Amelia’s pretty face until she wasn’t pretty at all. Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. This was genuine emotion, Philippa realized, not the false love she pretended for Blair.
“You will not have him!” Amelia finally released Blair to launch herself at Philippa, arms raised and hands extended into talons. Philippa gasped with fright and whipped her hands up to protect her face.
Amelia never made contact.
Slowly, Philippa lowered her arms while her sister abused her in language that would shame a stablehand.
“No, you don’t, lassie.” Erskine wrapped his arms around a struggling Amelia. “You’ve done enough damage.”
“I…I don’t know what this is all about,” Caroline said shakily from behind Philippa. “Amelia, you’re not behaving like a lady.”
“Amelia, it’s over,” Philippa said quietly. “You’re just making a fool of yourself.”
“You stupid slut!” Amelia hissed, fighting Blair.
“That’s enough!”
Blair’s bark of command silenced Amelia. She twisted to fling herself sobbing into his arms. Philippa wondered if this was another ploy, then realized that her sister was genuinely distraught.
“You can let her go,” Philippa said softly.
“She might attack you again.”
Warmth filled Philippa. Nobody had ever worried about her before. Nobody had ever stepped in to save her. The fragile seedling of optimism that had unfurled when she’d decided to trust Blair sprouted a few more leaves.
If she was lucky, if she was right, that seedling might grow into a great tree that would shelter her for the rest of her life. She still felt like she launched herself into the void, but with every moment, her hope of a safe landing strengthened.
“I don’t think so.” The defiance drained out of Amelia and she hardly reacted when Philippa placed an arm around her. “I’ll take you upstairs.”
“Perhaps Miss Liddell can help her.”
“None of this is my fault,” Caroline insisted. She was an even worse actress than Amelia. “You can’t blame me.”
Ignoring her cousin, Philippa tightened her grip on her sister’s suddenly fragile shoulders. “Amelia, come with me.”
Amelia raised a tear-stained face to stare at her blankly. “What about Gerald?”
In Philippa’s opinion, Mr. Fox deserved a better bride, but what could she say? “He doesn’t know about this.”
Amelia’s expression sharpened. “You’ll tell him. I would.”