To Sir Phillip, With Love (Bridgertons, #5)

by Julia Quinn

No, she didn’t need someone perfect. She just needed someone perfect for her.

Don't we all?

Sir Phillip was, in his own strange way, hers. The one thing she’d never had to share with anyone. His letters were bundled and tied with a purple ribbon, hidden at the bottom of her middle desk drawer, tucked underneath the piles of stationery she used for her many letters. He was her secret. Hers.

Sounds perfect

If ever there was a perfect man, surely it had to be the Sir Phillip Crane of her imagination.

Oh he will be, in one way or another.

He did not like fish. Eloise fought a bubble of nervous laughter. He didn’t like fish? That was what she knew about him? “Surely a sound basis for marriage,” she muttered to herself, trying to ignore the panic in her voice.

Lol awww poor thing

“Sir Phillip,” Gunning said, clearing his throat. “We have a caller.” “A caller?” Phillip echoed. “Was that the source of the, ah . . .” “Noise?” Gunning supplied helpfully. “Yes.” “No.” The butler cleared his throat. “That would have been your children.” “I see,” Phillip murmured. “How silly of me to have hoped otherwise.”

Lol

Phillip blinked, certain he was supposed to be following what she was saying but no longer able to make out where one word ended and the next began. “. . . a long journey, and I’m afraid I didn’t sleep, and so I must beg you to forgive my appearance and . . .” She was making him dizzy. Would it be rude if he sat down? “. . . didn’t bring very much, but I had no choice, and . . .” This had clearly gone on far too long, with no sign, in truth, that it would ever end. If he allowed her to speak for one moment longer, he was quite certain that he would suffer an inner ear imbalance, or perhaps she would swoon from lack of breath and hit her head on the floor. Either way, one of them would be injured and in debilitating pain.

Lol there's no better way to explain Eloise's rambles

She smiled at him through gritted teeth. “Would you like to sit down?” he blurted out. “That would be quite pleasing, thank you.” He looked around with a blank expression on his face, giving Eloise the impression he barely knew his way around his own house. “Here,” he mumbled, motioning to a door at the end of the hall, “the drawing room.” Gunning coughed. Sir Phillip looked at him and scowled. “Perhaps you intended to order refreshments, sir?” the butler asked solicitously. “Er, yes, of course,” Sir Phillip replied, clearing his throat. “Of course. Er, perhaps . . .” “A tea tray, perhaps?” Gunning suggested. “With muffins?” “Excellent,” Sir Phillip muttered. “Or perhaps if Miss Bridgerton is hungry,” the butler continued, “I could have a more extensive breakfast prepared.” Sir Phillip swung his gaze over to Eloise. “Muffins will be lovely,” she said, even though she was hungry.

Lol poor guy's clueless

He cleared his throat. She leaned forward. He cleared his throat again. She coughed. He cleared his throat once more.

Lol gawd I love this awkwardness

He was bigger than she’d imagined him, rougher-looking, less urbane. His letters had been so charming and well written; she’d pictured him to be more . . . smooth. More slender, perhaps, certainly not given to fat, but still, less muscled. He looked as if he worked outside like a laborer, especially in those rough trousers and shirt with no cravat.

He sounds far hotter now tbh

He nodded and started to sit down, trying to fold himself back into the ridiculously small chair, then finally muttering something under his breath, turning to her with a slightly more intelligible, “Excuse me,” and moving to another, larger chair. “I beg your pardon,” he said, once he was settled. Eloise just nodded at him, wondering when she had ever found herself in a more awkward situation.

Lol it's just so delightful

Phillip’s lips parted in surprise. “You saved my letters?” “Of course. Didn’t you save mine?” He blinked. “Uh . . .” She gasped. “You didn’t save them?” Phillip had never understood women and half the time was quite willing to put aside all current medical thought and declare them a separate species altogether. He fully accepted that he rarely knew what one was supposed to say to them, but this time even he knew he had blundered badly.

Lol you sure did

Good God, if she could teach them to mind, he would bloody well kiss the ground she walked upon on a thrice-daily schedule.

Lol lets hope

Oliver and Amanda rounded the corner in the staircase and descended the rest of the way down to the hall, looking not a bit sheepish. “What,” Phillip demanded, “was that all about?” “What was what all about?” Oliver replied cheekily. “The screaming,” Phillip ground out. “That was Amanda,” Oliver said. “It certainly was,” she agreed. Phillip waited for further elucidation, and when it appeared that none was forthcoming, he added, “And why was Amanda screaming?” “It was a frog,” she explained. “A frog.” She nodded. “Indeed. In my bed.” “I see,” Phillip said. “Do you have any idea how it got there?” “I put it there,” she replied. He swung his gaze off of Oliver, to whom he’d addressed his question, and back to Amanda. “You put a frog in your own bed?” She nodded. Why why why? He cleared his throat. “Why?” She shrugged. “I wanted to.” Phillip felt his chin thrust forward in disbelief. “You wanted to?” “Yes.” “Put a frog in your bed?” “I was trying to grow tadpoles,” she explained. “In your bed?” “It seemed warm and cozy.” “I helped,” Oliver put in.

Omg this whole thing is GOLD lol

Miss Bridgerton didn’t look the least bit fooled by the air of innocence the twins were trying to convey, but she wisely did not choose to pursue the subject, and instead just said, “I am your guest.” The twins pondered that for a moment, and then Amanda said, “We don’t want any guests.” Followed by Oliver’s, “We don’t need any guests.”

Oh I love this so muuuuch

She hadn’t expected him to fall in love at first sight and drop to his knees, professing his undying devotion, but she’d hoped for a little bit more than a curt “Who are you?” and “Enjoy your food.”

Lol Awww

She’d built an elaborate dream around her image of this man—an image which she now knew to be untrue. She’d let herself mold him into the perfect man, and it hurt so much to learn that he wasn’t just imperfect, he was quite close to abysmal.

Which will wind up BEING perfect, no doubt

What sort of man was he, that he preferred plants to people?

Someone who is in pain

“Does your father know you’re here?” “He’s busy.” “Very busy.” “He’s a very busy man.” “Much too busy for you.” Eloise watched and listened with interest as the twins shot off their lightning-fast statements, falling all over themselves to demonstrate how busy Sir Phillip was. “So what you’re telling me,” Eloise said, “is that your father is busy.” They stared at her, momentarily dumbfounded by her calm retelling of the facts, then nodded.

Lol so adorable

She offered him a smile, a genuine one, and he felt his heart lurch. Good God, when she smiled it transformed her entire face. In all the time he’d been corresponding with her, he’d never dreamed that she would take his breath away.

Awww he's smitten already

She looked at him, really looked at him for the first time since she’d arrived. He was quite handsome in a rough, slightly unkempt sort of way. His dark hair looked in dire need of a good trim, and his skin showed signs of a faint tan, which was impressive considering how little sunshine they’d enjoyed lately. He was large and muscular, and sat in his chair with a careless, athletic sort of grace, legs sprawled in a manner that would not have been acceptable in a London drawing room.

Sounds hot to me lol

He clenched his hands, his knuckles brushing the tablecloth. What was it about women? Did they speak in some sort of code?

We do lol

But as he watched her across the table, watched her face transform with a mere smile, it occurred to him—he didn’t much care why she’d left. He just needed to make sure that she stayed.

Got some work to do

“May I kiss you?” he asked. He would have stopped if she’d said no, he supposed, but he didn’t allow her much opportunity, closing the distance between them before she could reply. “May I?” he repeated, so close that his words were whispered across her lips.

Swoon!

And that was when she realized it—all that rage in his voice, in the shaking of his body—it wasn’t directed at the children. Not really, and certainly not entirely. The look on his face, the bleakness in his eyes—it was self-loathing. He didn’t blame his children. He blamed himself.

Aww poor dude.

He nodded. “First let me look at your eye.” “Do you have very much experience with this sort of thing?” she asked, glancing at the ceiling when he asked her to look up. “A bit.” He pressed gently against the ridge of her cheekbone with his thumb. “Look right.” She did. “A bit?” “I boxed at university.”

As if he wasn't hot enough already, now the man can fight? *swoon*

But if all that were true, why did he feel rather annoyed by the possibility that Eloise had had a lover? No, not annoyed, precisely. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the correct word for his feelings. Irritated, he supposed, the way one was irritated by a pebble in one’s shoe or a mild sunburn. It was that feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Not dreadfully, catastrophically wrong, but just not . . . right.

It's called jealousy, dude lol

He did nothing but stare at her for several seconds, then muttered, “I enjoy your company.” “Then why,” she asked, “have I been sitting alone in the garden for three hours?” “It hasn’t been three hours.” “It doesn’t matter how long—” “It’s been forty-five minutes,” he said. “Be that as it may—” “Be that as it is.”

Lol

Amanda reached out shyly and took her hand. “I like you,” she said. “I like you, too,” Eloise replied, surprised by the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

Awwww!

Men. The day they learned to admit to a mistake was the day they became women.

Hah!

He was, in his own way, every bit as awful a father as his own had been. Thomas Crane may have beaten his children to within an inch of their lives, but at least he knew what they were up to. Phillip ignored and avoided and pretended—anything to keep his distance and avoid losing his temper. Anything to stop him from becoming his father all over again.

Aww poor Phillip. 😟

All she wanted was him. More of him. All of him. Except . . . Except not like this. Not when he was using her like some sort of succor to heal his wounds.

Wellll, you DID just say you wanted to heal him, Eloise lol. And I quote: "She wanted to erase that shattered look from his eyes; she wanted to heal him."

Sir Phillip Crane was a good man. He might not be perfect, but he was good, and his heart was true.

Hear hear

There was something so heartbreaking about his expression—the uncertainty, the vulnerability. The awareness that even though he wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing, he was going to try to do it anyway.

More power to him

“Someone you know?” Phillip asked, quite mildly for someone who was about to face his demise. She nodded, and somehow managed to eke out the words: “My brothers.”

Uh oh lol

Brothers. He should have considered that. It was probably best to avoid courting a woman with brothers. Four of them, to be precise. Four. It was a wonder he wasn’t dead already.

Lol good luck dude

Who was, Phillip noted as well as he could, given his lack of oxygen, fighting like a fury crossed with a banshee, crossed with Medusa herself. Her right hand was still pulling out Benedict’s hair, even as her left arm wrapped around his throat, with her forearm lodged quite neatly up under his chin.

Wow lol

Four of them. Had she told him she had four brothers? Surely not. He would never have considered marriage to a woman with four brothers. Only a fool would shackle himself to such a family.

Lol you'll be alright

“I’m twenty-three,” the young one bit off, with all the irritability of a younger sibling. “And I’m twenty-eight,” she snapped. “I didn’t need your help when you were in nappies, and I don’t need it now.”

Lol!

“Eloise,” he said, “Mother is beside herself.” That sobered her in an instant. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “I didn’t think.” “No, you didn’t,” Anthony replied, his stern tone exactly what one would expect from a man who’d been the head of his family for twenty years. “I ought to take a whip to you.” Phillip started to intervene, because, really, he couldn’t countenance a whipping, but then Anthony added, “Or at the very least, a muzzle,” and Phillip decided that brother knew sister very well, indeed.

Lolol

“Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Gregory. These three,” she added, motioning to A, B, and C, “are my elders. This one”—she waved dismissively at Gregory—“is an infant.”

Lol!

And while Phillip might smile at Benedict’s comment about Eloise remembering everything, and even agree with Anthony about the muzzle, it was becoming apparent that the Bridgerton males did not hold their sister in the regard she deserved. “Your sister,” he said, his voice coming off sharp, “has been a marvelous influence upon my children. You would do well not to disparage her in my presence.”

Nice!! Love how he defends her!

“Good,” Colin muttered, taking a bite. “I’m famished.” “How can you think of food?” Gregory said angrily. “I always think of food,” Colin replied, his eyes searching the table until he located the butter. “What else is there?” “Your wife,” Benedict drawled. “Ah, yes, my wife,” Colin said with a nod. He turned to Phillip, leveled a hard stare at him, and said, “Just so that you are aware, I would have rather spent the night with my wife.”

Haha but if course

“And then,” Benedict was saying as Anthony and Eloise reentered the dining room, “the tavern wench arrived and she had the biggest—” “Benedict!” Eloise exclaimed. Benedict looked over at his sister with a supremely guilty expression, yanked back his hands, which were demonstrating the size of what was clearly an impossibly endowed female, and muttered, “Sorry.” “You’re married,” Eloise scolded. “But not blind,” Colin said with a grin. “You’re married, too!” she accused. “But not blind,” he said again.

Lol these dudes

“When,” Eloise said with exaggerated patience, “did you all become the best of friends?” “Oh,” he said, nodding. “Funny thing, actually. I asked them to break my legs.” Eloise just stared at him. As long as she lived, she’d never understand men. She had four brothers, and quite frankly should have understood them better than most women, and maybe it had taken all of her twenty-eight years to come to this realization, but men were, quite simply, freaks.

Lol true that

“Very well,” she allowed, “he’s quite handsome, if you like the rough, rural sort.” “Which you do,” Sophie said pertly.

Me too lol

If one didn’t have love, was it better, then, to be alone?

That is the question, isn't it?

“Miss Bridgerton.” Phillip was standing in front of her, holding out a bouquet of white orchids. “I brought these for you.”

Ugh my HEART!

“And,” she added sharply, glaring at his groan, “it is certainly provident that I now know how you feel about my gender.” He was the sort who usually walked away from conflict, but really, this was too much. “If I recall correctly,” he shot back, “I never did tell you exactly what I thought of women.” “I inferred it,” she retorted. “The phrase ‘lack of sense’ pointed me in the correct direction.” “Did it?” he drawled. “Well, I’m thinking differently now.” Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” “I mean that I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided I don’t have difficulties with women in general, after all. It’s you I find insufferable.” She drew back, clearly affronted. “Has no one called you insufferable before?” He found that difficult to believe. “No one who wasn’t related to me,” she grumbled.

Oh boy hehe

“Scone, anyone?” Colin asked. “No? More for me, then.”

Lol such a Colin thing to say.

“Is there a washroom?” he asked hoarsely. She blinked, noticing for the first time that he looked rather strained. “A washroom?” she echoed. He nodded stiffly. She pointed to the door leading to the hall. “Out and to the right,” she said. It was hard to believe he needed to relieve himself right after such a thrilling encounter, but who was she to attempt to understand the workings of the male body?

Poor Eloise not knowing the guy's still hard lol