Page 8 of The Captain's Midwinter Bride
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 dowryseemed 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 pursuedher. She was flattered by his regard.”
“But does she love him?”
Annalise looked thoughtful as she considered the question. “I think she loves theideaof 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?
