Her Unsuitable Match by Sally Britton
Fourteen
I wish I had known before.
Myles couldn’t rid himself of Philippa’s words. Had he deceived her when he signed the marital agreement? It had never occurred to him the need to disclose his nightmares to her. Yet now, marriage joined them to one another, and all the consequences of her actions were his, and the all consequences of his choices were also hers.
“I think we had better consider a location outside of London, if we intend to build something new.” Adam Gillensford shuffled through several papers on his desk. Each one described a London property or land for sale. He jotted down figures and square footages of each location. “It wouldn’t be terrible to have more land, for gardens and such. Especially if we could provide our hospital kitchen with its own produce.”
The study wasn’t large, but there were two desks within. Myles had found the furniture arrangement strange until he happened upon Elaine and Adam working in the room at the same time. She wrote business correspondence and had a hand in each of their ventures. Their partnership in marriage was a fascinating study. He’d never heard of anything quite like it.
Myles picked up a list of properties outside of London that the solicitor had provided to Gillensford. “Land would provide a greater ability to build something according to our unique specifications, too. But then you run a small risk, given that you’ll have less oversight if the location is far from your London and country addresses.”
“Agreed. And I know of nothing in our county that would suit. Though I suppose I would need to contact someone more familiar with property in that area.” Gillensford started stacking papers, a sign that he was finished for the afternoon. “Enough with business. We have talked of nothing else these last two hours.”
Before Myles could stand to leave, or offer up a new topic of conversation, Gillensford said, “How is my sister?”
A difficult question to answer at present. “We all live in the same household,” Myles said, somewhat confused. “You know as well as I do, I should think. I have not seen her since last evening.” He had carefully avoided the rooms in the house where the women spent most of their time. He had broken his fast in his room and taken tea in the study.
Gillensford leaned back in his chair, as though settling in for a long conversation. “That isn’t the best answer, Cobbett. Not when you are married to the woman. I know your arrangement with Pippa isn’t traditional, but I thought you the sort of man who would not allow things to stand that way for long.”
Myles frowned, uncertain how to address what his new brother-in-law seemed to imply. “I have no intention of taking advantage of our situation—”
“Not what I meant,” Gillensford said, the words clipped. “You are an honorable gentleman. I merely thought, given that you are both young and intelligent people, that you’d have decided by now to get to know one another better. Form a relationship based on more than a financial need.”
“A friendship?” Myles asked, already sinking deeper into his chair. He knew the answer before Gillensford gave it.
“That would be a start.” The other man scrubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “I must admit, I am not eager for this conversation between us, Cobbett. But my wife has expressed concern over Pippa’s state, and when my wife is concerned, I must be as well. Even if it means a difficult conversation about my sister.”
“I hope I haven’t given Elaine any reason to worry.” Myles shifted again, tucking his scarred hand beneath his right arm. The room grew uncomfortably warm, with the afternoon sun slanting in through the window.
Gillensford chuckled. “You and Pippa have both given my wife cause to worry. You two are rarely in the same room together for more than the time it takes to eat a meal. You hardly know each other. You are acting more like a house guest than a husband, and she is finding that Society isn’t ready to forgive her yet for thwarting everyone’s expectations. Yes. Elaine is worried. Living with us, in a London townhome, isn’t the best way to begin your marriage, either. Even if it is a contracted agreement rather than a romantic attachment.” He gestured sharply at Myles as he spoke. “It’s far too easy for the two of you to avoid one another.”
Though tempted to tell Gillensford that Myles and Philippa’s marital arrangements were none of his business, living in the man’s house made it difficult to brush aside the topic. Instead, Myles tightened the fold of his arms and shrugged somewhat defensively. “What would you have us do? Philippa is searching for a house to lease in London.”
“Another large house where you two can avoid each other,” Gillensford guessed. “That will not solve the problem.” He stood and put both hands on his side of the desk, leaning forward. “I think you should both leave London for a time. Let the gossip die down. Go somewhere that the two of you can spend more time together.”
“That isn’t what Philippa wants.” Myles knew that point well enough. She wanted freedom. The ability to float along in London Society without her mother’s sharp eyes and sharper tongue to keep her in check. Yet that wasn’t what marriage had provided to her. Not yet.
“Hang what Philippa wants. When she was twelve, she wanted a Roman chariot, but then was perfectly content with her own pony.” Gillensford thumped the desk with a fist, though his words contained no actual heat so much as frustration. “Take her away, Cobbett. Show her there is more to marriage than attending social events on your arm.”
While Gillensford meant well, Myles had to shake his head at the suggestion. “I’m not sure that’s my place.” Philippa had made certain he understood she had no wish for a husband to command her. “Though I will take what you have said under consideration, of course.”
Though Gillensford appeared ready to protest and belabor the subject, a knock at the door interrupted him. The butler had appeared to inform Gillensford of a visitor. Before leaving the room, Gillensford gave Myles one last look of exasperation. “This topic isn’t closed between us, brother-in-law.”
Myles chuckled and left the study as Gillensford did, but while the other man went downstairs to greet his visitor, Myles went up to his quarters. He’d had a letter from his mother, expressing her delight—and shock—in regard to his marriage. She had also pointedly asked when he and his bride intended to visit his childhood home. Ambleside. He hadn’t visited in two years. It was easier to stay away than to return. Financially and emotionally. He hated to be coddled and fussed over by his family, even as he loved their affection and how liberally they bestowed it upon him.
Philippa was leaving her room as he entered the hall, and she hesitated with her hand still on the door handle. “Myles,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Uncertain. “How…how have you been? Today, I mean.”
The inquiry stung. “I have had no further incidents such as yesterday’s, if that is what you mean.” Did she now think him subject to frequent fits of memory? He had woken from an unpleasant dream in the middle of the night. But he had disturbed no one. Even if sleep hadn’t returned to him.
She appeared confused, then hurt. “That isn’t what I meant at all. It is only that I haven’t seen you yet today, and our conversation last night did not end well.”
He continued to his door, refusing to feel guilty. “I am well enough. I thank you for your concern.”
“Myles,” she said again, forcing him to pause when he had taken a step into his room. “Will you not ask after me?”
He swallowed his pride and turned to face his wife, who truly didn’t deserve his ire. Guilt made his tone less amiable. Guilt that he had trapped her in a marriage with him, a broken man. “I apologize, my lady. How do you fare on this fine day?”
Her chin came up at the same moment a wan smile appeared on her lovely face. “I am tolerably well, considering that I received a note from a friend—or at least, someone I thought a friend—asking me not to attend an evening of music at her home this evening. I agreed to play for her weeks ago, you see. Before we wed.”
His spirit sunk further. He dropped his hand from the door and gave her his full attention. “That is terribly rude of her, to deprive her guests of your talent.” He tried to make the words sound light. Tried to offer her a commiserating smile. “None of this has gone the way you expected, has it?”
Slowly, Philippa shook her head. “Not at all how I expected. But it is not your fault at all, Myles. It is my mother and brother, I think. And the likes of Lady Darwimple and Lord Walter.”
“If only we could ship the lot of them off to some other corner of the kingdom,” he said, leaning against his doorway. Gillensford’s suggestion teased at his thoughts. Dare he ask if she wanted to flee London?
“That would be utterly convenient.” She leaned against the opposite wall, mirroring his stance. “But since we cannot move them about like pieces on a chessboard, I have thought it would be wise to change my strategy. Have you any suggestions?”
There it was. The perfect way to extend the idea. And he already had an excellent excuse waiting, in the form of his mother’s letter, upon his writing desk. “How would you feel about another strategic retreat? This time, to the country, where the enemy has fewer resources.”
Philippa said nothing for the space of three heartbeats. She stared at him. Yet the quiet didn’t feel awkward in the corridor. Instead, the atmosphere felt rather comfortable.
Slowly, a smile turned her lips upward. “Have you been speaking with Elaine? She suggested that very thing to me.”
Myles chuckled. He shouldn’t be surprised. If Gillensford had spoken to him, Elaine had likely spoken to her sister-in-law. Hopefully, not with quite the same suggestions. “I have not said a word about visiting the country to Elaine. Though I have recently had a letter from my mother, encouraging a visit.”
It wouldn’t leave them much time alone in each other’s company, as Gillensford had implied was necessary. But it would be a change of pace. He would be in a safe place, too. Myles had never had a waking attack of his memories while at his family’s home. And maybe, if Philippa met his family, she would think more kindly of him.
If he could spend time there, even so short as a week, that might fortify him well enough to continue through the rest of the Season.
His wife tipped her head back, staring upward at the ceiling as she hummed a thoughtful note.
“Your family home is in Bedfordshire, is it not?” Philippa actually appeared to consider his suggestion. “Kempston.” They had spoken little about his family, though she had received all that information from his solicitor.
“Green End, to be precise,” he said, observing her with growing curiosity. “Fifty miles from London.” That piece of information might change her interested expression to one of alarm.
Except it didn’t.
“That sounds lovely.” Philippa leaned away from the wall, her posture perfect once more. “When would you like to depart for Green End? What is the name of your father’s estate?”
“You truly wish to visit my family?” He straightened away from the wall, too. “Ambleside. My father’s estate is Ambleside.”
Philippa nodded, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “If you believe a strategic retreat is in order, I will bow to your superior battle experience. And what better place to go than to your family? I should like to meet them.”
“My father is only a very minor baron,” he reminded her. Then he thought to offer a warning. “Their home isn’t as grand as what you are used to, I would wager.”
Waving her hand dismissively, Philippa assured him, “I haven’t any expectations on that account. Though I imagine your mother is a lovely person, given what I know about her youngest son.”
“Though I am not an impartial party, I have always thought her one of the best women on earth.” His hand went to the door handle again, though with reluctance this time. “I will write my family at once. We could leave whenever you wish. If you truly want to make that journey.”
“I do. Stop trying to dissuade me.” Her smile sparkled, and she took one step toward him. “We should give the letter time to arrive before we do, I suppose. Do you think three days from now is enough?”
Three days? How could she seem so eager to leave London, when he’d been certain she would never entertain the idea of exiting the social wilds for the country? Yet here he stood, not having had to do much to convince her at all—
He’d been quiet too long. She spoke with less certainty, and a lower voice. “Unless you do not think that is enough time for your family to prepare?”
And suddenly, he was the one reassuring her. Speaking gently. Hoping that the smile he offered, as strange as it must look on his scarred face, was calming. “Considering how much my mother wishes to meet you, I think it is more than enough time.”
Philippa appeared relieved. Then she bestowed another charming smile upon him. “I had better leave you to your letter writing, then.” She took a step away, still facing him. “Thank you, Myles. For inviting me.”
Then she turned and walked away, each step graceful and light. For a moment, Myles felt nothing but admiration for the woman he had married. As well as the creeping realization that he was not at all good enough for her. The third son of a baron. A broken man. And she, the daughter of an earl, the very picture of beauty.
He entered his room and pushed his hand through his hair, leaning heavily against the door. What would she make of his family? What would they think of her?
Adam Gillensford wasn’t the sort of man to gloat, but when he and his wife learned of Myles and Philippa’s plans, they would likely feel as though they had accomplished some kind of victory. But Myles knew well enough that a visit to Ambleside, while pleasant, wasn’t likely to change Philippa’s mind about Society or their marriage.
As he sat to write his mother, Myles reassured himself aloud, “All I need is enough time to shore up my defenses.” That was all he allowed himself to hope for.