Page 22 of Her Unsuitable Match

“I have withstood you in a courtroom once, Lord Montecliff.” Mr. Tuttle-Kirk actually sounded bored as he spoke, his mustache not so much as twitching. “I dare say, I can successfully do so again.”

“How dare you.” Lady Fredericka rose to her feet. “Adam, I insist you eject this man from the premises.”

Now appearing far more amused than alarmed, Adam folded his arms across his chest. “Mr. Tuttle-Kirk is a dear friend to my family, Mother. He is welcome in our home whenever he wishes.” Though Philippa thought her brother stretched the truth with that statement, she appreciated it, nonetheless.

She stepped farther away from Richard, tucking her hands behind her back lest she give him too easy a target to take hold of again. “Adam, might I have the use of your study? I believe my solicitor has come on a matter of business.”

“Of course, Pippa.” Adam stepped between her and their eldest brother. “I will see our brother and mother out, of course.”

Lady Fredericka started to sputter. “Are you throwing me out, you ungrateful boy?”

Philippa fled to the door in as unhurried a manner as possible. She slipped between Mr. Cobbett and Mr. Tuttle-Kirk as they each opened one side of the double door.

“Not at all, Mother. You are already packed, after all, and wanted nothing more than to return to Richard’s townhouse a few moments ago. I am only seeing to your wishes.”

“But Philippa—”

The two doors closed behind Philippa, but she didn’t turn to thank her rescuers. Not yet. Instead, she walked quickly to the front of the corridor. “This way, please.” She went to another set of large, dark doors and pushed one of them open.

The men entered behind her, and she closed the door quickly, then slid the bolt into place. While not necessarily the most appropriate thing, Philippa had no intention of making it easy for Richard to intrude upon them should he wish to try it. She leaned against the closed door, turning to face the two men who had followed her inside.

Mr. Tuttle-Kirk walked to the desk, and she noted he held a leather portfolio under one arm. “Dashed ridiculous family,” he was muttering to himself.

Mr. Cobbett remained only a few steps inside the room, facing her, his expression rather grim. “Are you hurt, my lady?”

A trembly laugh escaped her. “There will likely be a bruise in the shape of my brother’s fingers, but it is of no consequence.” She stepped away from the door and approached him slowly, aware of Mr. Tuttle-Kirk laying things out on the desk and muttering to himself. “I confess, I am most surprised to see you here, Mr. Cobbett.”

One corner of his mouth went upward, the expression more of a grimace than a smile. His dark brown eye studied her with care. “I met with Mr. Tuttle-Kirk again this morning, with my additions to the contracts. He thought, once we finalized the papers, that we should present them to you with some speed.”

Mr. Tuttle-Kirk spoke loudly from the desk. “It is always better to have both parties present when finalizing these sorts of things. It makes the process much easier.”

Philippa looked up at Mr. Cobbett again. “Your additions? Does that mean you agree to—to—” Her cheeks warmed. Good heavens, she hadn’t struggled to say the words to him before, had she?

“Marry you? Yes. I suppose so.” His smile untwisted itself, appearing more natural and softening his features. “I hope you haven’t changed your mind. That would make my uninvited visit to your home most awkward.”

“No, of course not.” Philippa shook her head quickly. “Though I do wonder at what your proposed changes might be. I thought we made the terms quite generous in your favor.”

“You did.” He looked over his shoulder to where Tuttle-Kirk now prepared a pen he had found in Adam’s desk. Then Mr. Cobbett took her hand and led her to the window. Once they stood in the light, he picked up her other hand, too. “The things most important to you, I did not touch. Your independence. The way in which your fortune will be invested and used. Your generosity toward my family—thank you for that—it is all there.” He paused, and for a moment she thought she saw his unscarred cheek turn somewhat pink. But that was the side facing the window. Perhaps it was only a trick of the light.

“What did you find lacking in the agreement?” Philippa winced when she heard the breathiness of her question. One would think she hadn’t initiated the agreement, given her tone. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “I want to be certain I understand the motivation behind your changes before I read them in Mr. Tuttle-Kirk’s clever hand.”

The gentleman looked over his shoulder at Tuttle-Kirk again, and Philippa had the distinct impression that he didn’t like the idea of the solicitor listening in. Which was preposterous, since Mr. Tuttle-Kirk would have needed to know the particulars of whatever Mr. Cobbett wished to say in order to put it into the paperwork.

Finally, after smoothing his expression into something more stern and unreadable than she’d seen him wear thus far, Mr. Cobbett answered her question. “I never thought to marry, my lady. Not on a soldier’s pay, and especially not on my pension. But now that the opportunity has arisen, I find that I am loathe to make this a business arrangement only. I would like to make our relationship into something more. Perhaps—if you are amenable to the idea in future—we might have children.” That warm, dark brown eye of his searched her gaze, only the barest hint of hope appearing there.

Heat suffused Philippa from the tip of her nose through to her fingertips and toes. His hands felt far too large upon hers, their gentle grip too warm, and his whole body too near. She stepped back, dropping her hands from his. “You added children to the contract?” Her voice went into a high register she doubted she had ever used before.

His eyebrows shot upward. “Of course not. How does one put such a thing in a legal document?”

Philippa looked to Mr. Tuttle-Kirk, who most certainly had been listening to the whole thing. He appeared amused, the horrid man. “Quite right,” he said dryly. “Progeny? In a contract? It would never hold up in court.”

Mr. Cobbett muttered something cross and shoved his hand through his hair. Then he faced her again. “I put in the stipulation that we must spend the first year of our marriage in each other’s company. We live under the same roof. We attend the same social functions—only those you wish to attend, of course—all with the hope that we form an understanding for our shared future outside of what the contract stipulates.”

Philippa’s mouth opened, then closed. Then she looked at Mr. Tuttle-Kirk. “What do you think of Mr. Cobbett’s adjustments?”

Mr. Tuttle-Kirk stood at attention, his eyes gleaming with what she didn’t dare think of as glee. “I am in favor of them, and I rather wish I had thought to suggest such a thing myself. After all, you are still quite young, my lady. You may find you wish for more than a business partner, at some point. Life has many unexpected paths, and should you find yourself in a difficult position, it would be better to face it with someone to whom you are bound by things other than ink and paper. As to the matter of children—”

Philippa raised her hand. “I quite understand your point, Mr. Tuttle-Kirk. Thank you. I should like to look over the documents now.”