Page 51 of Her Unsuitable Match

“Papa, look! It’s stopped raining,” the child on Winston’s neck shouted, pointing at the window behind Pippa and Myles.

Pippa spun around to look out the window, too. “It has stopped,” she said, bouncing on her toes. “Oh, this is wonderful. I must tell your mother.” The playing of the pianoforte in the room across the hall hadn’t stopped, though Myles had somehow tuned out his mother’s private concert.

“I told you,” Myles said softly, admiring his wife’s figure as she stood before the window. When she turned, eyes aglow with happiness, he sighed like a lovesick fool. “Better hurry and let her know, before she begins playing Beethoven. Austrian composers are a sure sign of melancholy in this household.”

With a quick smile cast up at him, Pippa nodded and hurried from the room, darting around Winston and the children now calling for him to be a bear rather than an elephant.

“Bears hibernate,” Winston explained, falling onto a couch. “And then they eat anyone foolish enough to wake them before winter’s end.” He growled impressively, making the children squeal and run from the room, proclaiming that a bear was going to eat them. Winston chuckled and looked up at Myles. The amusement turned to surprise. “You looked perturbed, brother. Is something wrong?”

Myles shook his head and turned away, crossing his arms as he stared out the window. Nothing was wrong. He’d nearly kissed his wife. She’d seemed perfectly happy with the idea, too. Until an Indian elephant interrupted them. Perhaps that was for the best. Because kissing, though he imagined it to be a rather heavenly pursuit, wouldn’t be nearly enough with Pippa.

Winston clapped a hand on Myles’s shoulder, surprising him enough that he ducked and turned, pulling Winston’s wrist behind his back and holding it there. “How did you move from the couch without making a sound?” Myles asked, holding Winston still.

“I made plenty of noise.” Winston grunted. “You are simply too besotted by your own wife to pay heed to anything else.”

That was likely true. Too besotted and lacking in sleep. Myles released his brother. “A clergyman ought not sneak up on people.”

“And a former soldier ought to be brave enough to tell a woman he loves her.” Winston narrowed his eyes at Myles, daring his younger brother to deny the supposition. “She hasn’t any idea how you feel, does she? As pleasant as you two are to each other in front of the rest of the family, there is enough delicacy in how you two act when you think no one is looking for me to guess—”

“Winston.” Myles had to cut him off. He looked to the still-open doorway. “This isn’t any of your affair.” He rubbed at his temple. “Please. Leave it alone.”

Winston folded his arms and affected a superior expression. “I am right, aren’t I? Heavens, man. If your wife doesn’t know that you love her, how did you ever convince someone of her status and wealth to marry you in the first place?”

It wasn’t his brother’s business. No one needed to know the circumstances that tied Myles and Pippa together in matrimony. The few who knew where back in London. “It doesn’t matter,” Myles muttered, turning away.

“I think it must.” Winston didn’t need to put a hand on him to stop Myles from leaving the room. Not when he said, “Because you matter, Myles. To all of us.”

Myles glared through the open doorway, then closed the door. With his back still to his brother, Myles said quietly, “I am well enough, Winnie. You needn’t concern yourself with me.”

“You aren’t getting out of this by using that old nickname. I’m a vicar now. Such things don’t bother me. What about the nightmares? Do you still have them?” Winston’s voice grew nearer. “Or the episodes—the waking memories of war?”

A shudder passed through Myles. “Sometimes,” he murmured. “But that has nothing to do with Pippa—Lady Philippa.”

“It does. Because I have seen you broken before, Myles.” Winston stood directly behind Myles. “If you love your wife, and she doesn’t feel the same, I am fearful of what that will do to you. I have already seen you lose more of yourself to war and loss than anyone can bear.” Winston fell blessedly silent, but it was only for a moment before he asked, “Why did you bring her here, Myles?”

With reluctance, Myles turned around. He leaned against the closed door and rubbed at his good eye. “We are here to meet the family. And to get away from London for a time. The situation there isn’t ideal for one of my… delicate constitution.” He wrinkled his nose and lifted his gaze to his brother.

Winston snorted. “You’re no more delicate than a donkey.” But the concern in his eyes was genuine. “What aren’t you telling us about this marriage, Myles? And why can’t your wife know how you feel?”

“Leave it alone, Winnie.” Myles moved away from the door, back toward the window. The sun broke through the clouds for one glittering moment. “Know that my marriage to Lady Philippa is of significant benefit to our family. I intend to add to our sisters’ dowries. Our parents needn’t worry about them securing suitable matches.”

“The dowries? This isn’t a mercenary match for you, is it?” The disapproval in Winston’s voice smote Myles’s conscience harder than his concern did.

“No.” And that was all the answer Winston would get.

Winston stayed silent for so long that Myles wondered if his brother had left the room without him knowing. He turned around, only to find Winston still there. Staring at him.

“Loving your wife is a good thing, Myles. So long as she feels the same.” Winston’s shoulders drooped with his concern. “But you had better find out soon. Before you’ve given away so much of your heart that you cannot live without it.”

Myles could not think of a response to that. Part of the reason he hadn’t tried to tell Pippa, hadn’t even planned on it, was their contract. He’d agreed to give her complete freedom. The other part, though, had more to do with Winston’s concern. If she didn’t feel the same, Myles didn’t know how he could survive the heartbreak that would bring.

A knock on the door broke the silent tension in the room. Laurel called from the other side. “Winston? Are you in there? I need your help preparing the children for the picnic.”

“Coming, my heart.” Winston cast his brother one last worried glance. Then he opened the door and disappeared, leaving Myles’s thoughts more convoluted than before. And his feelings for Pippa remained as complicated as ever. He loved her. He wanted to protect her. Honor her. Be the reason she smiled, and laughed, and greeted each day with a vivacity that astounded him.

He wanted to be her reason to wake each day with delight and retire each night with contentment. How was he to accomplish any of that when he could not even convince himself to tell her the truth of his feelings? He hadn’t worried about it that morning when he’d woken next to her. And while they watched the rain, a quarter of an hour ago, he’d nearly kissed his wife without sparing the consequences more than a thought. Perhaps that would’ve ended in disaster, and he should thank Winston for interrupting.

Myles left the room, muttering to himself, “I need more sleep. That’s all.”