Page 3 of The Captain's Midwinter Bride
Pushing those unkind thoughts aside, she smiled. “Darling, you will be living within a ten-minute walk of here. I daresay you won’t have to do without me much at all.”
Beth released her, extracting a handkerchief from her pocket and pressing it to her face for a long moment. “Will you stay here after Silas and I marry?”
Annalise blinked. “Where would I go? Andwhywould I go?”
“The estate in Wales, perhaps.” When Annalise shook her head in confusion, Beth sighed. “I don’t understand why you would want to stayhere, withhim.”
Something about her daughter’s words made her flush, her skin growing warm underneath her day dress. Annalise was certain Beth was unaware of her struggles, and she was thankful for it.
Gathering her poise about her, she cleared her throat. “Before you and Oliver were born, your father and I lived together alone. We’ll do so again when you’re gone.”
They could—but oh, how the prospect made her nervous.
Chapter Two
At the breakfast table the following morning, Phillip almost dropped his silverware when Beth sailed through the door and graced him with a sunny smile.
“Good morning, Father,” she said, before turning to the sideboard and grabbing a plate.
Darting his gaze to Annalise, he found his wife calmly cutting into a hard-boiled egg. But he didn’t miss the faint smile on her lips. She’d obviously spoken with the girl, and while he was curious about what they had discussed, he was happier than he could express for the genial greeting.
With Beth’s back turned, he lifted his coffee cup in toast to his wife, who blushed and looked away.
Phillip remembered when Annalise would blush every time she was in his presence. As a young bride, she had alternated between endearing shyness and engaging witticisms. The duality of her personality had charmed him, and he tried all sorts of methods, from lighthearted teasing to stimulating conversation, to draw her out. But his career had thwarted his efforts to truly know his wife and had stunted any opportunity for their early banter to grow into something more.
But after being married for so long, and knowing each other in starts and stops through the years, he was relieved to find Annalise was still that beguiling paradox.
And she was still just as lovely as she was when they’d married in that hurried ceremony in the parish church. In his experience, many women looked haggard and exhausted as they aged, but then, most women had an excuse. Life was hard, and such struggle imprinted itself in the bones.
But while Annalise had matured, she’d done so with grace. Her auburn brown hair was still thick and silky, her eyes still the prettiest roasted chestnut color he had ever seen. Her smile was still a little crooked and readily given. She was thicker around the waist and displayed a more impressive décolletage than he remembered—and was certainly not complaining about. His wife was still attractive, perhaps more so because that young girl fresh from the schoolroom he had married so many years ago had become the woman who’d given him two healthy children and mothered them into the successful, respectable, and good people they now were. Phillip was proud of Oliver and Beth, and he knew he had Annalise to thank for that.
Especially because she’d done it largely on her own. All sailors’ wives came to learn that the bulk of responsibilities at home would fall to them, yet Annalise never complained. So while she blushed at his toast, no doubt convinced it was done in jest, Phillip was in earnest. She deserved all the toasts and praise.
After Beth took her seat at the table, Phillip pushed the food around on his plate as he debated whether to inquire after her young fiancé or the plans for the wedding. Did they plan to spend Christmas with him and Annalise? Would Mr. Newell come to make his acquaintance before he married his only daughter?
“Silas and his mother, Mrs. Newell, have invited us all to dinner tomorrow night.” Beth paused, staring at her teacup for moment. “Would you like to attend?” she asked, meeting his gaze.
“Of course,” he said, cringing internally at the note of exuberance in his voice. He couldn’t think of the last time a question had surprised and delighted him so.
“That was very kind of Mrs. Newell to extend the invitation,” Annalise said.
“They have been wanting to meet Father, and now that he’s returned, they did not want to delay securing him as a guest.” Beth quirked her mouth. “Mrs. Newell seems to believe that you will be a much-coveted guest in the weeks to come.”
The prospect left Phillip feeling decidedly nauseated. He had attended social functions on any number of occasions as an officer, but to socialize and make vapid small talk with one’s own neighbors—and soon-to-be in-laws—was surely a special kind of misery. Not that he voiced such sentiments, of course.
Catching Annalise’s narrowed eye, Phillip realized his expression must have betrayed some of his thoughts. Sliding a glance to his daughter, he discovered her watching him with a wary mien.Dammit.
“I am much out of practice with socializing, but as there are no more trips calling me away to far-off places, perhaps I can reacquaint myself. I look forward to getting to know your Mr. Newell and his mother.”
A brief but genuine smile brightened Beth’s expression before she turned her attention to her eggs. Annalise, however, raised her cup to him in her own toast, and then pretended to summon the housemaid to ask for more tea when their daughter glanced her way.
How Phillip avoided choking on his slice of bacon, he’d never know.
That show of humor had him contemplating his wife, and what his days would consist of now that he had retired. It occupied his thoughts long after Beth left the breakfast table, and he replayed the cheeky grin Annalise flashed at him before her face smoothed into regal placidity once again. Had he known she was such a good sport? Surely he did. He remembered the occasional laugh they shared together on his infrequent leaves, as they spoke of the children and their antics.
He also remembered their past couplings, that were awkward and rushed when they were newlyweds, and then grew more passionate as they came to know what touches and caresses the other responded to.
Tracing the rim around his cup, he glanced across the table at Annalise. She was adding butter to a slice of toast while her eyes skimmed over the paper opened on the table next to her. From his angle, he couldn’t tell what section had captured her attention.
