Page 76 of Bargaining for the Barrister
Paul gave Miles a nod and said quickly, “Louisa and I are most grateful to you.”
“Give us a speech,” Tom said, leaning forward to meet Miles’s gaze.
Miles chuckled and stood, bowing deeply. “It was an honor to be the one to join the hands of these two lovely persons. But do well to remember this, your sins will be great indeed if you forget to attend weekly services.”
Miles, thankfully, did not run his congregation with any such expectations, but Paul was in no mood for droll conversation. Time was ticking. He grabbed the waist of Miles’s breeches and pulled him back to his seat. “On to the next order of business, please.” He caught Louisa’s laughing eyes. No one knew better than she did how truly impatient he was to be finished with this meeting.
Ian snickered but called order again. “Now to thank the rest of you for attending our last Rebel meeting of the summer on such short notice. Our endeavors this year were met with a great deal of resistance, but I cannot say we’ve failed. Paul might look irritated now, but I do believe he’s going to be very happy. Probably after I stop talking. So I shall get straight to the point. Our meeting was called by our newest member, Louisa Sheldon.”
Paul blinked. Louisa had called the meeting?
“You’re not introducing her right,” Tom said. “Call her Nymph, a name I bestowed on her with the highest honor.”
She looked the part today more than ever, with her silver gown embroidered with white flowers on the hem and sleeves and the butterfly comb he’d gifted her in her hair. She was a guardian of nature who had bewitched him, and apparently his friends, with her seraphic ways. But why would she want to call a meeting now of all times?
Louisa laughed. “With such a fantastical name, I feel far more comfortable to address you. Please accept my thanks for letting me be part of such an esteemed group. I don’t believe I shall be invited to join the local musical club, so this is a true privilege.” A chuckle passed around the room. “Before my husband grows more impatient, there are two urgent matters of business. The first is Mrs. Hammond.”
The room grew unpleasantly still.
He met Louisa’s gaze, a question in his eyes. He trusted that whatever she brought up was for his benefit, but he was curious what she had to say. The last six weeks had been a journey. With Louisa’s encouragement, Paul had finally told his parents and the rest of his friends about Mrs. Hammond’s extortion of his funds. Louisa had stayed by his side through both conversations, her presence helping him tear down the walls he’d built over the years. He was still healing, but he felt stronger already. He stole a glance at the others. Their deep frowns were evidence of their feelings about Mrs. Hammond and their protective natures.
“Go ahead, dear,” he prompted.
Louisa nodded, her smile welcoming his permission to discuss the sensitive topic with the others. “I, for one, do not like the idea of my husband bankrupting himself, so I would like to present a solution, but it’ll require your help. I have just learned the ages of the Hammond children, and I do believe we can find suitable employment for a few of them or, perhaps, if possible, sponsor their education. They ought not to suffer or wholly rely on their parents if we can help them.”
“What a wonderful idea!” Jemma inched forward in her seat. “Last summer we had great success finding employment for several freed slaves.”
Paul rubbed his jaw. His wife’s plan had merit. It was a conclusion that might have been reached earlier had he just had the courage to share his problems with his friends. Pushing away his self-deprecating thoughts, he pondered about employment opportunities. He could use a young clerk to help him, and perhaps in a few years, little George could fill that position. He knew barristers who had employed boys as young as nine years old, and illiterate too. “I think you’re onto something.”
Pleased, she told him, “Now, if you are feeling charitable, you can invest in the children instead of the parents.”
This would be a sight better than the few meals he’d been able to treat his stepsiblings to, and far better than sending money that would never reach them. He stood, eager to kiss the smile that begged him closer. “Let’s leave the matter for the others to talk out, shall we?”
“Wait,” Louisa said, her smile mischievous. “There is still the second matter of business.”
Sighing, Paul fell back into his seat. He supposed his wedding tour could be postponed another five minutes.
“It seems none of you took notice of the matrons’ whispered conversation during breakfast. I happened to pass by their gathering and overhear that their next target for matrimonial bliss has been decided.” There was a collective intake of breath. Louisa looked at each Rebel individually, drawing out the moment, until her gaze settled on one of them. “It is none other than the Honorable Tom Harwood.”
For once, Tom’s mischievous smile melted from his face.
Poor man.
Tom’s smile slid back into place before Paul could commiserate aloud. “A man as handsome as I am hasn’t stayed single this long by doing exactly as I have been told,” he quipped. “Never fear, my dear little Rebels, no matchmaking mama will ensnare me.”
Paul was tempted to warn him, but he wasn’t going to get sucked into a long discussion about the importance of listening to one’s parents, not until he returned from his blissfully perfect wedding trip. He leapt to his feet and grabbed Louisa’s hand and settled on, “Don’t fight it, Tom.” He stopped long enough to dip his head toward his friend. “It hurts only a little.”
Then, before his wife or anyone else could stop him, he fled the temple with his wife in hand. Once the door was shut, he swooped her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to the carriage.
As soon as Louisa was settled inside, he climbed in and sat directly beside her.
“Did you really just say that marriage hurts a little?” Louisa bit back a laugh.
“Yes.” Paul stared at her sapphire eyes, his heart tugging inside his chest. “Standing across from my bride, unable to touch her, to hold her. It was a sweet pain.”
“One you quickly remedied.” Louisa’s laugh finally escaped, the sound mixing with the soft late-summer breeze.
He nodded and extended his arm to encircle her shoulders. He drew her closer, her smiling lips ever teasing him. “I hope all the Rebels can be as happy as I am right now. Were they to feel as I do, they wouldn’t run from love but race toward it.” And because he could not contain himself another moment, he pressed his lips to hers, sighing inwardly at the immense pleasure it brought him. She was his healer and undeniably his perfect match.
