An awkward pause followed, and Mr. Newell simply blinked at him. Phillip suspected he should not have been so direct with the lad, and yet if he wanted to go on as he intended, it was imperative the young man know how offensive Phillip had found his behavior.
Mr. Newell cleared his throat. “I do apologize, sir, if I made it seem that my campaign was more important than meeting my future father by marriage.”
Phillip brushed away his apology with the flick of his hand. “Tell me more about yourself, aside from your campaign. I feel as if I already know a bit about that already.”
The young man launched into a monologue about his education, moving to Bristol from London, and the early death of his father. He seemed like a decent, if somewhat pretentious lad, and his goals for the future were ambitious. Phillip wasn’t sure how his willful Beth would fit into Mr. Newell’s grandiose plans, but then perhaps it wasn’t up to him to figure it out.
One thing he did notice, however, was how Mr. Newell never spoke of his affection for his daughter, nor what drew him to her. Phillip had every intention of asking him about it when noise on the street snagged his attention, and he jumped to his feet and pushed the drapes aside, peering out to the street beyond. His black lacquered carriage was at the curb, their manservant stepping up to open the door.
And there she was. In a green day dress and a cream cape pulled up to her chin, Annalise looked as fetching as ever. She smiled as she spoke with the manservant, handing him several parcels before she took his hand and stepped from the conveyance.
“Mrs. Dalton has returned,” he said, spinning around and making for the door.
“Oh.” Mr. Newell jumped to his feet and following him to the foyer.
Sailing through the front door a moment later, Annalise appeared, her cheeks rosy from the cold. A spark lit in her eyes when she spied Phillip, but her smile slipped ever so slightly when her gaze landed on Mr. Newell.
“My, I could get used to such a welcome after a day traversing about in the cold,” she said with a laugh, walking forward to buss Phillip quickly on the cheek. She smelled of lilacs, like she always had. “Mr. Newell, I regret to tell you that Beth parted company with me to visit her friend, Mrs. Wilcox.”
He nodded. “I seem to recall her telling me about that visit.”
“Still, would you like to stay and dine with us for luncheon?” Annalise asked politely.
“That is kind of you, Mrs. Dalton, but I promised I would escort my mother to the park for her daily constitutional.”
Annalise looked toward the door, a groove in her brow. “But it’s frightfully cold out there.”
“My mother has a hardy disposition and insists on daily walks to keep her healthy.” Mr. Newell swung his hat onto his head and offered them both a quick bow. “I wish you both good day.”
Phillip watched him depart until Annalise brushed past him. “Come, let me make us some luncheon, and you can tell me about your visit with Mr. Newell.”
He followed after her as she walked into the small, tidy kitchen. Baskets filled with various fruits and vegetables lined the open shelves, and copper pots and pans hung from a series of iron hooks. Annalise swung a kettle over the fire and turned to pull items out of the cold box, placing them on the worn oak table.
Phillip wandered to the opposite side of the table. Gripping the back of a chair, he watched her. “Why isn’t Mrs. Murphy here?”
“This is her half day.” Annalise grabbed a few apples and a paring knife, quickly making work of the peel on one. “She spends the morning with her sister and niece. She always comes back with a new piece of artwork.”
She nodded her head to the opposite wall, and Phillip turned and spied a veritable art display, each piece rendered with the unmistakable hand of a child. Birds, rainbows, unicorns, and Christmas trees shined down on the space and made it cheery in turn.
Annalise uncovered a plate with remnants of a roasted chicken upon it. “It reminds me of the years after we were married and couldn’t afford to hire household help.”
Those times felt so long ago now, Phillip realized. “We could afford the help, you just never wanted it.”
Annalise paused, giving him an odd look. “I beg your pardon. We did not have the money.”
He rubbed his brow. “I know life was not easy with me away from home more often than not, but you could have hired help if you wanted it. My father said you refused the expense.”
“I refused the expense?” Annalise’s mouth gaped before it shut with a snap. “What are you talking about? My monthly allotment barely covered food and the cost of coal.”
It was Phillip’s turn to be flummoxed. “But that can’t be right. With the money your father left for you, combined with the money I sent home, you should have been able to employ a nanny, a maid, and a manservant.”
She shook her head. “Your father told me that the entirety of my father’s estate went to paying back debtors.”
Annalise whispered the words, and it took him a moment to process what she was saying. “I don’t understand. Debtors wouldn’t have been able to touch your inheritance. Why would he possibly tell you that?”
Red stained her cheeks, and fire blazed in her dark eyes. “Your father, and then your brother, handled the finances until your return. They also corresponded with my father’s solicitors after his death to ensure all his debts were paid. They set my monthly allowance. Why, Phillip, would they severely limit that amount while simultaneously lying to me about the state of the settlements? Why would they lie to you about my household decisions? Who stood to benefit if I was ignorant of the true state of our finances?”
“They did.” An awful sensation soured his stomach. “I never noticed any discrepancies in the ledgers when I reviewed them.”
“My portion of my father’s estate wouldn’t be recorded in any ledger you’d see, would it?”
He flinched. “There has to be a reason they lied to me. That they limited your allowance.”
“They didn’t just limit my allowance.” Annalise stepped back from the table and clenched her hands into fists. “They stole from me! There were times I didn’t eat so the children would have food. Your father invited me to move into his home when he learned how much I was struggling. I thought him so generous, but now I suspect he offered to keep me under his thumb. And I was struggling because of him.”
That couldn’t be right. Surely his father would never take advantage of his wife. Of his friend’s young, unprotected daughter. Of his grandchildren.
Would he?
Annalise’s chest heaved. “Do you even know what the state of your family’s finances were at the time?”
“I don’t.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.
“I never considered it before, because I was so immersed in my grief, and then later in the children.” She pressed her palm to her brow. “But now I suspect that while you were sailing the seven seas, they were in debt and used both of us to save themselves.”
Phillip tried to swallow around the glass in his throat. “I’ll find out. I swear that if my father and Charles stole your dowry, they will return it ten-fold.”
She scoffed. “But what does that change? I needed the funds then, not now.”
He clenched his eyes closed. This had to be a misunderstanding. His father was not a thief. He had been from an old Gloucestershire family and had long spouted nonsense about family history and honor. That he had formed such a strong friendship with Mr. Carrick, Annalise’s father, had been a surprise, for the man boasted no exalted antecedents and had earned his wealth in trade. But then, perhaps his father had formed the friendship out of self-interest.
Phillip needed to speak with his brother. Since their father’s death ten years prior, Charles had been the head of the family, which meant he would have access to the family ledgers. He had to know if Annalise’s claim was true.
Had Phillip left his vulnerable new wife, and later his children, in the care of two men who viewed them as a little more
than a reliable source of income?
His thoughts were interrupted when Annalise set a plate piled high with chicken, sliced apples, and thick pieces of buttered bread before him with a thud. Sliding into her own seat, she picked at her food for long, strained minutes. Phillip didn’t know what to say. I apologize profusely, for it seems my father stole your dowry seemed banal and insensitive.
“Mr. Newell seemed anxious to depart.”
Phillip dropped his fork. Scrubbing a hand across mouth, he picked it up again. “Oh, but didn’t you hear he was to escort his dear mother on her walk?”
His wife chuckled, but it was strained.
“I told him I was disappointed he had not come to call earlier,” he said, hoping to draw her out.
“Good for you.” She nodded, not lifting her gaze from her plate. “What did you think of the lad?”
Phillip poked at strips of chicken as he considered what to say. He cleared his throat. “He seems self-important and self-involved.”
“That sums him up rather well.”
“What do you suppose Beth sees in him?” he wondered aloud as he speared a carrot with his fork.
“I sense he makes her feel important. He’s one of the most sought-after bachelors in Bristol, and he pursued her. She was flattered by his regard.”
“But does she love him?”
Annalise looked thoughtful as she considered the question. “I think she loves the idea of him as her husband. But rather than be concerned about Beth’s feelings for the young man, I want to know what he feels for her.”
“Well, he offered marriage, so there has to be some regard on his part.” Phillip licked his lips. “Can our Beth be happy with simple regard?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed, rising to grab the whistling kettle.
While she prepared the tea, he asked, “You mentioned Beth was visiting a friend?”
“Do you remember her bosom friend, Penny Bates?” When he nodded, she smiled. “She’s now Mrs. Wilcox, and she had her first baby recently. Beth wanted to watch the child for a time to give Penny a chance to nap. It’s so very hard to sleep in those early days.”
“Why doesn’t Mrs. Wilcox sleep when the baby sleeps?” Phillip frowned. “Seems easy enough to me.”
“Because she also has a house to see to.” Annalise cocked a brow at him over her shoulder. “Not everyone is in a position to hire a Mrs. Murphy to tend to matters about the house. I certainly wasn’t, if you recall.”
Phillip winced at the reminder.
“If a young mother is to sleep when the baby does, she’s often choosing to leave multiple other tasks undone, which carries its own sort of guilt.”
His own guilt washed over him anew. “And you speak from experience.”
“I do.” Annalise pivoted, her hips resting against the table. “All the responsibilities fell onto my shoulders. I sacrificed sleep more times than not to ensure our children grew up in a tidy home and had clean clothes to wear. It was a challenging time, so I appreciated Beth’s thoughtful suggestion to assist her friend. I wish I had had friends who could have helped me.”
“Or a least a husband who was around to do his part and protect you from predators,” Phillip murmured softly.
“Or that,” she agreed without hesitation.
Faith, but how had she been able to draw breath into her lungs?
Even now she longed to flee to her room, to let loose the tears she had bottled up over the last two decades. Phillip’s casual reveal meant her father had not left her penniless and destitute. He had left her a portion, and it had been stolen from her.
She wanted to be angry at her husband. How had he not known what his father, and possibly his brother, had done? How could he have left her, and later their children, in their care?
But Phillip’s ashen complexion, the tortured light in his blue eyes, stripped her of any suspicions she possessed that he was involved. He adored their children, Annalise reminded herself, and would never want them to suffer. Old Mr. Dalton had betrayed his trust, as well as her own. She was furious at him and Charles…but not at her husband.
That knowledge was the only reason she had not fled the kitchen as soon as she divined the awful truth. Phillip had thought he provided amply for his family with his hard, often treacherous work, only to discover the wrong family had benefitted.
Annalise raised her teacup to her mouth and took a sip, her tension easing as heat spread through her like cracks on the surface of a frozen lake.
They sat silently, the air only peppered with the sounds of eating and drinking.
In the first few years of their marriage, their meals were often eaten in similar silences. Two people yoked together by circumstance. Strangers who shared a bed. But those times were long ago, and Annalise was determined not to return to such a polite distance again, even if her heart demanded a reprieve. Perhaps if she and her husband had been closer in those early years of their marriage, old Mr. Dalton would not have been able to swindle them.
“Why did Beth want a Christmas wedding?” Phillip asked quietly. Almost tentatively. “Surely most brides would prefer a spring or even a summer wedding.”
“Beth wanted snow. She has always envisioned an all-white wedding, and you can’t have snow in the summer.” The corner of her mouth tipped up. “If we’re lucky, that is.”
Phillip’s eyes turned glassy. “It snowed on our wedding day. I remember snowflakes stuck in your dark hair, almost like a coronet.”
Their wedding day had been a blur to her. Her father had been on his death bed, and she had been in shock. Paralyzed by the knowledge he would soon be gone. Frozen to find she would be alone at eighteen, with no other family to take her in, and a long list of debts ready to bleed her father’s estate dry. Phillip’s father had been his good friend, having worked together on several ventures. It was Mr. Dalton who suggested Phillip, his second son, marry her. Now she knew why he had made that suggestion. How easily she had been manipulated.
Gritting her teeth, Annalise forced herself to focus. Had it snowed on their wedding day? She would have to take Phillip’s word for it because she did not remember. Her mind did not retain memories of such details.
“You were a lovely bride.” Phillip reached for his tea, taking a healthy sip. “Your dark hair and dark eyes stood out amongst all the white. You were my midwinter bride, and I remember being captivated.”
Surprise…and unadulterated delight washed over her. He remembered what she looked like? Remembered the snowflakes that landed on her hair. Claimed she was lovely. Captivating. Annalise did not know what to say.
She cleared her throat. “I’m surprised you remember such things.”
“Why would you be surprised? One’s own wedding is worth remembering, don’t you think?”
“I do,” she said. “I suppose I just assumed you would remember the day a little differently.”
“How so?”
Annalise leaned forward in her chair, every fiber in her body trained on the man across the table from her. The man she had shared her body with, conceived two children with, and was expected to honor and serve for the rest of her days. “Were you not resentful? Angry?”
Phillip’s brow furrowed under the force of her dark glare. “Why would I be?”
“Because you had your whole life before you!” Annalise pushed to her feet, ignoring when Phillip stood out of respect. She paced to the basin, where she deposited her empty plate. “You were a rising officer in the Navy, and incredibly handsome. You could have had any bride of your choosing. And you were forced to settle for me. How could you not be resentful?”
Silence had returned, but now it was painful. Fraught with all the possibilities and missed opportunities that had been stolen from him…and from her. Yet, from the corner of her eye, Annalise saw that her husband did not seem perturbed in the slightest.
Leaning back, Phillip speared her with his sapphire eyes. “I’ve always been content with my choice of bride. Not once have I ever
resented you or your position as my wife. You’ve given me two intelligent children. I feel it is I who owes you a debt of gratitude for raising them and caring for our home while I was away for months on end. It seems that I have received the greater end of the bargain.”
The years had been hard, but the alternative was not something Annalise wanted to consider. Her marriage to Phillip had given her stability in the form of a clean, warm home, a kind husband, and children she doted upon. Over time, they were able to move into a grander home and hire servants to assist with their needs. Phillip had provided for her, and she would always be grateful.
“I’m happy you’re home,” she said simply.
“Are you?” He frowned. “Or has my return done nothing more than reveal terrible truths and upend your life?”
She dropped her gaze to her lap. “Mayhap, but I’d much rather we sort through these difficulties together.”
He cleared his throat. “I would like to do that too.” Phillip paused for a pregnant moment. “Do you suppose Beth will talk to me about her relationship with Mr. Newell if I ask her? She’s not exactly forthcoming where I’m concerned.”
Annalise couldn’t help but smile at that. “Perhaps we can do it together.”
Phillip’s mien turned serious. “Tell me plainly, is he kind to her?”
She paused. “He seems to be.”
“You appear unconvinced.”
Because she was. More times than not, Annalise thought Mr. Newell was condescending to Beth. If she were truly being honest, she often believed he treated her daughter like a child. That was not the same as kindness. But Beth was happy—or seemed happy—and whenever Annalise had broached the subject in the past, her headstrong daughter had ended the conversation.
She caught Phillip’s expectant gaze and realized she had not responded. Biting the inside of her cheek, she weighed what to say. “I’ve tried to trust Beth’s judgement. And he does seem…taken with her.”
“But does that translate to respect?” Phillip rubbed a hand along his chin. “Marriage is a lifelong commitment, and an infatuation can wane. Respect for one’s spouse is a solid foundation for a long marriage.”
The Captain's Midwinter Bride (Holiday Novella) Page 3
