My Favorite Major (Heroes Returned Book 1) (6 page)

Cordie scoffed. “Hardly. Trust me, Amelia, I’ve known Philip Moore my entire life. Given his own predispositions, he’ll return to Leverton Park, sit in his study, and never come up for air. And that is what worries me about him. I hate to see him shut himself off from the rest of the world. More than anything, I’d like to see my friend truly happy again.”

He certainly hadn’t seemed happy the previous evening, though stoic might have been a better word than unhappy. But since the major had prevented Geoffrey from finding her, Amelia did owe him a debt. If she could make him smile, as everyone seemed to want for him, she would give it her best effort. Besides, she did like him, his serious façade notwithstanding. And she did understand what it felt like to possess a broken heart.

“
What exactly do you know about Amelia Pritchard?” Philip demanded as he strode into Avery House’s yellow parlor, glaring at Russell who was sprawled across a divan, reading that morning’s Times. “And I don’t want to hear you utter the words
substandard kisser
.”

Russell lowered his feet to the ground and dropped the paper to his lap. “Oh? Why is that? Do you happen to know otherwise?”

Philip narrowed his eyes on his oldest friend. “How the devil would I know otherwise?”

Russell shrugged. “Well, you were in Clayworth’s garden with the chit. If it had been me…”

“
If it had been you, you would have defiled the girl in some way.”

“
Which, of course, the oh-so-noble Major Philip Moore would never do. What
is
the matter with you today? Cravat tied too tightly?”

Philip wasn’t certain at that moment
why
Russell Avery was his oldest friend. They were, and always had been, as different as night and day. Proximity in growing up together was the only answer that sprung to mind. “No, my cravat isn’t tied too tightly, you louse,” he ground out. “But I want you to leave Miss Pritchard alone.”

Russell smirked and rose to his feet. “I beg your pardon?”

Philip shook his head. “I get the impression she’s running from something, or hiding from something, and the last thing she needs is
your
false intentions.”

“
And who—” Russell looked mildly affronted, “—is to say my intentions are false?”

With his injured leg throbbing, Philip leaned heavily on his cane. “Well, I would think Miss Phoebe Greywood would say so, for one. Or have you told her you don’t intend to pursue her any longer?”

“
I already told you she didn’t write me as often as she promised.”

Philip snorted. “And that is enough for you to wash your hands of the chit and turn your attention to Miss Pritchard? Not enough letters in your satchel?”

“
A fellow does want to feel like he’s missed,” Russell explained. “Besides whether or not my intentions are false as far as Miss Pritchard is concerned is really no business of yours.”

And that was the truth of it. Philip didn’t have a right to intervene on Miss Pritchard’s behalf. He didn’t even know the girl. Not really. “Leave her be, Russell.”

“
Just why are you so concerned about the chit?”

“
Because I’ve seen the trail of broken hearts you’ve left in every country we’ve traveled together, and I don’t want her to join their ranks.”

“
Indeed?” His friend’s brow rose in question. “Or is it you want the girl for yourself, but don’t think you can win her if you have any competition?”

“
That is so far off the mark, I don’t even know where to begin.” In fact, it was the most ludicrous thing Philip had ever heard.

Russell heaved a sigh. “Is it? I’m not so sure.”

“
I will always love Olivia, as you well know. I would never chase after a girl, if I couldn’t give her my whole heart. To do so would make me the worst sort of blackguard.”

“
Like your father.”

Just like his father, and Philip was determined to never be compared to the late Jonathan Moore if it killed him. “He is precisely why I would never do such a thing.” He’d watched his mother die a little more every day, devastated that no matter what she did, she would never be the woman her husband loved.

Russell dropped back on the divan and shook his head. “To what end, Philip? So you can live the rest of your life alone? I know you’ll always love Olivia, but she is out of reach, and forgive me for saying so – happily there, by all accounts.”

“
I am relieved that Kelfield treats her well.” No matter that the duke was the exact wrong sort for Olivia. There was nothing to be done about the situation now.

“
You know she wants you to be happy as well.”

Of course she did. Olivia always wanted the best for everyone. It was her nature and one of the reasons Philip still loved her, despite her defection. “I didn’t come here to talk about me, Russ.” He dropped into a chair across from his friend and leaned his cane against his injured leg. “I wanted to find out what you know about Miss Pritchard. I do think she’s running from something.”

“
And you’re determined to play the hero?” His friend smiled sadly. “I suppose some habits are hard to break.” Russell scratched his jaw. “Amelia arrived in Town a sennight ago, and Clayworth and Cordie welcomed her with open arms. If she is running from something, I have no knowledge of it.”

Philip nodded his head. “I hope you’re right.”

“
I’m always right.” Russell quirked a cheeky grin at him.

“
How could I forget?” Philip straightened in his seat. “Promise you’ll stay away from the girl?”

Russell tossed back his head and chuckled. “Hardly. If for no other reason than to watch
you
squirm.”

“
Perfect,” Philip muttered. Now Russell viewed Miss Pritchard as a game, which was the last thing he wanted for the girl.

“
Besides,” his friend continued, “she is quite stunning and I wouldn’t mind waking up next to her some morning in the near future.”

Philip clutched his cane in his hand. Damn Russell for still being the same reprobate he’d always been.

Theatre-goers bustled past Philip into the Theatre Royal, but he held his position, leaning on his cane, facing Catherine Street. In the distance he spotted a coach emblazoned with the Clayworth crest and patiently waited for the carriage to stop near the entrance. A few moments later, the earl’s coach halted and the driver leapt to the ground to open the door.

Russell bounded out first, and he offered his hand to Miss Pritchard, who stepped onto the cobblestones looking even lovelier than she had the night before. Flaxen curls framed her face and her daring
décolletage
drew Philip’s eyes downward. Dear God, she was a pretty bundle.

“
Major Moore,” she said in greeting, bringing his attention back to her face.

“
Miss Pritchard,” he replied, “so nice to see you again.” And it was, especially as her blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight, filled with merriment. It would be nicer, however, if Russell wasn’t wearing a lascivious grin as he, too, gazed at the chit. “Avery,” Philip grumbled. Poor girl was in over her head with the roguish captain, she just didn’t realize it.

“
I can’t imagine why the two of you are glaring daggers at each other.” Cordie alighted from the coach on her husband’s arm. “Do behave this evening. I won’t have Amelia reporting home that I subjected her to cretins while visiting us.”

“
I have never been referred to as a cretin.” Russell touched a hand to his heart.

“
Not while you were within earshot anyway,” Cordie countered. “Now let us do go in.”

The foursome of Russell, Miss Pritchard, Cordie, and Lord Clayworth started up the steps and into the theatre’s doors, while Philip followed at a slower pace. Amelia Pritchard looked back over her shoulder at him and smiled, and Philip’s heart lightened just a bit.

As the couples disappeared from his view, he pushed his way through the crowd and up the staircase. He nodded a greeting to a couple of old acquaintances and then started towards Clayworth’s box, until he noticed Mr. Mason just a few feet away in the corridor. Philip couldn’t help but frown. Just the sight of the man who’d made Miss Pritchard hide in terror made Philip want to smash his cane over the man’s head.

Unfortunately, Mason met Philip’s eyes, smiled in greeting, and started towards him. “Good evening, Major.”

“
Mr. Mason.” Philip nodded. “Have you had any luck locating your blonde?”

The Welshman frowned. “No. However, I heard a rumor the girl might be in attendance this evening.”

A rumor? How could the man have heard such a thing? Had Mason taken to bribing a Clayworth servant to gather information on Miss Pritchard? “Well, best of luck to you in your search then.”

“
Thank you. Do enjoy the performance.”

Philip nodded curtly and then navigated his way through the lively crowd until he reached Clayworth’s box.

Miss Pritchard giggled at something Russell said, which only brought a scowl to Philip’s face. The girl attracted scoundrels to her like a bees to a flower.

She noticed his presence, and the smile faded from her face. “Are you all right, Major?”

“
Might I have a word with you, Miss Pritchard?”

“
Of course.”

As she hastened to his side, Philip ignored the amused look Russell cast in his direction, almost that of a challenge. Philip shook his head. He didn’t have any time for Russell’s foolishness. He tugged Miss Pritchard to the far corner of the box and whispered, “Your Mr. Mason is here, looking for you.”

Horror flashed in her pretty eyes, and Philip couldn’t help but frown. Whatever Mason had done to warrant such a reaction in the lady must be reprehensible, indeed. He’d do just about anything to keep her from ever having to wear that expression again.