Page 40 of Her Unsuitable Match

Gillensford leaned back in his chair, as though settling in for a long conversation. “That isn’t the best answer, Cobbett. Not when you are married to the woman. I know your arrangement with Pippa isn’t traditional, but I thought you the sort of man who would not allow things to stand that way for long.”

Myles frowned, uncertain how to address what his new brother-in-law seemed to imply. “I have no intention of taking advantage of our situation—”

“Not what I meant,” Gillensford said, the words clipped. “You are an honorable gentleman. I merely thought, given that you are both young and intelligent people, that you’d have decided by now to get to know one another better. Form a relationship based on more than a financial need.”

“A friendship?” Myles asked, already sinking deeper into his chair. He knew the answer before Gillensford gave it.

“That would be a start.” The other man scrubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “I must admit, I am not eager for this conversation between us, Cobbett. But my wife has expressed concern over Pippa’s state, and when my wife is concerned, I must be as well. Even if it means a difficult conversation about my sister.”

“I hope I haven’t given Elaine any reason to worry.” Myles shifted again, tucking his scarred hand beneath his right arm. The room grew uncomfortably warm, with the afternoon sun slanting in through the window.

Gillensford chuckled. “You and Pippa have both given my wife cause to worry. You two are rarely in the same room together for more than the time it takes to eat a meal. You hardly know each other. You are acting more like a house guest than a husband, and she is finding that Society isn’t ready to forgive her yet for thwarting everyone’s expectations. Yes. Elaine is worried. Living with us, in a London townhome, isn’t the best way to begin your marriage, either. Even if it is a contracted agreement rather than a romantic attachment.” He gestured sharply at Myles as he spoke. “It’s far too easy for the two of you to avoid one another.”

Though tempted to tell Gillensford that Myles and Philippa’s marital arrangements were none of his business, living in the man’s house made it difficult to brush aside the topic. Instead, Myles tightened the fold of his arms and shrugged somewhat defensively. “What would you have us do? Philippa is searching for a house to lease in London.”

“Another large house where you two can avoid each other,” Gillensford guessed. “That will not solve the problem.” He stood and put both hands on his side of the desk, leaning forward. “I think you should both leave London for a time. Let the gossip die down. Go somewhere that the two of you can spend more time together.”

“That isn’t what Philippa wants.” Myles knew that point well enough. She wanted freedom. The ability to float along in London Society without her mother’s sharp eyes and sharper tongue to keep her in check. Yet that wasn’t what marriage had provided to her. Not yet.

“Hang what Philippa wants. When she was twelve, she wanted a Roman chariot, but then was perfectly content with her own pony.” Gillensford thumped the desk with a fist, though his words contained no actual heat so much as frustration. “Take her away, Cobbett. Show her there is more to marriage than attending social events on your arm.”

While Gillensford meant well, Myles had to shake his head at the suggestion. “I’m not sure that’s my place.” Philippa had made certain he understood she had no wish for a husband to command her. “Though I will take what you have said under consideration, of course.”

Though Gillensford appeared ready to protest and belabor the subject, a knock at the door interrupted him. The butler had appeared to inform Gillensford of a visitor. Before leaving the room, Gillensford gave Myles one last look of exasperation. “This topic isn’t closed between us, brother-in-law.”

Myles chuckled and left the study as Gillensford did, but while the other man went downstairs to greet his visitor, Myles went up to his quarters. He’d had a letter from his mother, expressing her delight—and shock—in regard to his marriage. She had also pointedly asked when he and his bride intended to visit his childhood home. Ambleside. He hadn’t visited in two years. It was easier to stay away than to return. Financially and emotionally. He hated to be coddled and fussed over by his family, even as he loved their affection and how liberally they bestowed it upon him.

Philippa was leaving her room as he entered the hall, and she hesitated with her hand still on the door handle. “Myles,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Uncertain. “How…how have you been? Today, I mean.”

The inquiry stung. “I have had no further incidents such as yesterday’s, if that is what you mean.” Did she now think him subject to frequent fits of memory? He had woken from an unpleasant dream in the middle of the night. But he had disturbed no one. Even if sleep hadn’t returned to him.

She appeared confused, then hurt. “That isn’t what I meant at all. It is only that I haven’t seen you yet today, and our conversation last night did not end well.”

He continued to his door, refusing to feel guilty. “I am well enough. I thank you for your concern.”

“Myles,” she said again, forcing him to pause when he had taken a step into his room. “Will you not ask after me?”

He swallowed his pride and turned to face his wife, who truly didn’t deserve his ire. Guilt made his tone less amiable. Guilt that he had trapped her in a marriage with him, a broken man. “I apologize, my lady. How do you fare on this fine day?”

Her chin came up at the same moment a wan smile appeared on her lovely face. “I am tolerably well, considering that I received a note from a friend—or at least, someone I thought a friend—asking me not to attend an evening of music at her home this evening. I agreed to play for her weeks ago, you see. Before we wed.”

His spirit sunk further. He dropped his hand from the door and gave her his full attention. “That is terribly rude of her, to deprive her guests of your talent.” He tried to make the words sound light. Tried to offer her a commiserating smile. “None of this has gone the way you expected, has it?”

Slowly, Philippa shook her head. “Not at all how I expected. But it is not your fault at all, Myles. It is my mother and brother, I think. And the likes of Lady Darwimple and Lord Walter.”

“If only we could ship the lot of them off to some other corner of the kingdom,” he said, leaning against his doorway. Gillensford’s suggestion teased at his thoughts. Dare he ask if she wanted to flee London?

“That would be utterly convenient.” She leaned against the opposite wall, mirroring his stance. “But since we cannot move them about like pieces on a chessboard, I have thought it would be wise to change my strategy. Have you any suggestions?”

There it was. The perfect way to extend the idea. And he already had an excellent excuse waiting, in the form of his mother’s letter, upon his writing desk. “How would you feel about another strategic retreat? This time, to the country, where the enemy has fewer resources.”

Philippa said nothing for the space of three heartbeats. She stared at him. Yet the quiet didn’t feel awkward in the corridor. Instead, the atmosphere felt rather comfortable.

Slowly, a smile turned her lips upward. “Have you been speaking with Elaine? She suggested that very thing to me.”

Myles chuckled. He shouldn’t be surprised. If Gillensford had spoken to him, Elaine had likely spoken to her sister-in-law. Hopefully, not with quite the same suggestions. “I have not said a word about visiting the country to Elaine. Though I have recently had a letter from my mother, encouraging a visit.”

It wouldn’t leave them much time alone in each other’s company, as Gillensford had implied was necessary. But it would be a change of pace. He would be in a safe place, too. Myles had never had a waking attack of his memories while at his family’s home. And maybe, if Philippa met his family, she would think more kindly of him.