Philloise Re-Written

Chapter Ten

. . . you will never know how unfortunate you are, dearest Penelope, to have sisters only. Brothers are ever so much more fun.

—from Eloise Bridgerton to Penelope Featherington, following a midnight ride in Hyde Park with her three older brothers.

Eloise had not entered Phillip's study until today. It was a warm space, with overflowing bookshelves and scattered papers. Eloise had stifled a small smile when she saw a small pile of familiar books on the floor beside an ornate, if a little scuffed, oaken desk. This was likely the space Phillip spent most of his time, when not in his greenhouse.

So it was rather jarring sitting before it as her brother sat in Phillip's overstuffed green desk chair, fingers steepled. Stewing.

"What the bally hell do you think you were doing," Anthony exclaimed, "Running away to a stranger's house in the middle of the night?"

Eloise's mouth scrunched in frustration. "Phillip isn't a stranger."

Anthony's eyebrows shot up. Eloise's eyes widened as she realised her mistake and hastened to cover it up. "Sir Crane, I mean. He is no stranger to me, brother. We were corresponding for over a year before he suggested I enter into his employ."

"Enter into his..." Anthony repeated, disbelievingly, "I still cannot quite believe that you would do this to us, that you would do this to your family."

"To the family? Pray tell, what exactly have I done, the fifth child and a insignificant woman at that, that has caused the family such distress?"

Anthony suddenly stood, hands on the desk as he leaned forward not wanting his foolish sister to avoid his gaze.

"You ran off in the middle of the night," he said, rising to his feet, "without a word, without even a note—"

"I left a note!" she burst out.

He looked at her with patent disbelief.

"I did!" she insisted. "I left it on the side table in the front hall. Right next to the Chinese vase."

"And this mysterious note said . . ."

"It said not to worry, that I was fine and would contact you all within a month."

"Ah," Anthony said mockingly. "That would have set my mind at ease."

"I don't know why you didn't get it," Eloise muttered. "It probably got mixed up with a pile of invitations."

"For all we knew," Anthony continued, taking a step toward her, "you'd been kidnapped."

Eloise paled. She'd never even considered that her family might think such a thing. It had never occurred to her that her note might go astray.

"Do you know what Mother did?" Anthony asked, his voice deathly serious. "After nearly collapsing with worry?"

Eloise shook her head, dreading the answer.

"She went to the bank," Anthony continued. "Do you know why?"

"Could you just tell me?" Eloise asked wearily. She hated the questions.

"She went there," he said, walking toward her in a terrifying manner, "to make sure that all her funds were in the proper order so that she could withdraw them should she need to ransom you!"

Eloise felt bile rise in her throat. Her stomach was in knots, her palms were clammy. She hated the idea of causing her mother such pain. The lack of any verbal response seemed to sober Anthony, who sat back into the chair with a heavy sigh. When he turned back towards her, Eloise almost choked on a sob when she saw the emotion in her eldest brother's eyes.