A Debt Paid in Marriage Read online

Page 11


  Laura remained behind as Philip accompanied Dr Hale to the entrance hall. The house seemed unusually dark, and when Chesterton opened the front door to let in the fading daylight it didn’t dispel the gloom.

  ‘You’ve chosen well with Miss Townsend,’ Dr Hale offered as he accepted his hat from Chesterton and settled it over his hair. ‘I can see she’ll love the boy as if he were her own. It’s the most I could’ve asked of you in choosing your next partner.’

  Philip stiffened, wishing the man would curse at him for all his mistakes and failures the way he cursed himself. ‘I do still grieve for Arabella.’

  ‘And part of you always will, just as I grieve for my dear wife.’ There wasn’t blame in his long face, or hate, or any of the emotions torturing Philip, only a weary mask of resignation, like the one he’d worn the morning of Arabella’s funeral. ‘But time passes and eventually the pain fades. Let it and give yourself a chance to be happy with Miss Townsend.’

  He clapped Philip on the arm, then made for the street, his trim figure silhouetted against the grey wall of St Bride’s churchyard as Chesterton swung the door shut.

  ‘Is there something you need, sir?’ he asked when Philip didn’t walk away.

  ‘No.’

  When Chesterton left, Philip didn’t move or return to the sitting room. He stared at the carved panels of the door, struggling to push back the guilt threatening to crush him. Dr Hale was right, Philip needed to think of the future, but all he could see was that cold morning cloaked in misery and devastating grief.

  ‘He’s a very nice man.’ Laura’s voice filled the hall from behind him.

  ‘I should have told him sooner. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.’ He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth. Laura’s opinion of him mattered, especially while his own was so low. He’d been a coward and now both she and Dr Hale knew it.

  She came to stand beside him and slid her hand into his, twining their fingers together. The gentle grip steadied his desire to stride out of the house and follow the pavement until the hole inside him engulfed all of London.

  ‘My mother told me once that sometimes, after I was born, she would think of my dead brother and feel guilty for being happy with me,’ Laura gently offered. ‘She loved him very much, she still does, but at times it felt as if letting go of him was wrong.’

  Something inside Philip cracked and he tightened his hand in hers. The words rose up inside him, despite every effort to stifle them. She understood and he wanted her to know.

  ‘She wasn’t like you, healthy and strong. When she wanted a child, I refused, but in the end I couldn’t deny her and it killed her.’

  Laura laid her hand on his cheek and turned his face to hers. ‘It’s not your fault, Philip. It’s no one’s fault when people get sick and die.’

  ‘It was my fault. I should have known better. I should have kept her safe and I failed.’ He let go of her hand and leaned away from her palm as the hardness rushed back in to surround his heart. He hadn’t wanted her to know his gravest mistake. Now she did and he couldn’t stand it. ‘I have business to see to.’

  He made for his office, ashamed of himself and his past.

  * * *

  Laura didn’t follow, recognising the grief pulling Philip inside himself. If she tried to draw him out now, he’d only push her away. All she could do was wait until he was ready to reveal more. Then she would listen and help him as best she could, assuming he ever placed as much faith in her as he had in Arabella.

  She wandered back into the sitting room and lifted Thomas’s discarded book from the chair. Until Dr Hale’s arrival, she’d failed to realise how tight a hold the past still had on Philip. It was stronger than any power Laura possessed or could hope to forge in so short an amount of time.

  Closing the book, she clutched it to her chest. In a few days, Philip’s claim over her had tightened. It wasn’t just the food, clothes and his house, it was him and his unwavering presence. She needed him as much as he needed her. Yet tonight he’d strode away from her help and she worried he always would. Then some day, she might take to her bed, focusing on every ailment as she grew old with a man who’d never regard her as more than part of a contract, a deal.

  She quit the room, heading upstairs to see to the numerous packages which had arrived today from the glover and the stocking maker. Becoming an invalid like one of Dr Hale’s patients wasn’t her future. Philip might withdraw from her today, but she wouldn’t give up on him, or their life together.

  * * *

  The clock on Philip’s bedroom desk chimed nine times. The rain outside had been falling steadily for over an hour, striking the portico below. He barely heard it as he flipped through the papers again, searching the endless paragraphs of agreements and ship’s inventory. Everything seemed in order, but experience told Philip something about this deal wasn’t right.

  ‘Is everything well with you?’

  Philip looked up to see Laura lingering warily in the doorway, her white cotton day dress replaced by one of lemon-yellow silk. It sat snug against her breasts and shoulders, flowing out to cover her hips and sweep the tops of her white slippers.

  He set down his papers, cautious of her presence. It’d taken hours of correspondence, accounts and a meeting with Justin to settle him. It might only take a moment with Laura to undo it all. He rose and splayed his fingers on the desk as if to balance himself against any lingering anxiety, but it never came. Instead, something in him softened with her appearance, as if it’d been too long since he’d last seen her and he’d missed her company.

  ‘A potential client has me perplexed.’ He waved her into the room.

  A small sigh of relief escaped her as she approached his desk. He couldn’t blame her for being wary. He’d fled from her in the entrance hall like a frightened debtor from the constable, then sent his excuses for missing dinner. It wasn’t Philip’s best moment. He’d enjoyed a number of poor moments since Laura’s arrival, but she wasn’t to blame. The fault was with him. ‘The man intends to import a special silk from India. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t lend him the money.’

  ‘But instinct is warning you off the matter.’

  ‘I need more than instinct. I need proof.’

  ‘Why? It’s your money to lend or not. Simply tell him you can’t give him what he wants, the way you told me.’ She cocked her head at the bathtub visible through the open dressing-room door.

  He rewarded her slight teasing with the smallest of grins. She noted it with a subtle rise of her eyebrows. ‘It may be that simple, but I prefer to make decisions based on evidence, not suspicion.’

  ‘Perhaps I can help you?’

  ‘If you’d like.’ He handed her the papers. ‘Read these and see if anything strikes you as odd.’

  She sat in one of the upholstered wingbacks flanking the window and set the documents on her lap to review. Beneath the parchment, the yellow silk flowed over her long legs, brushing the slender ankles crossed beneath the chair. Philip tried not to stare as he settled in the chair across from hers. He was glad his actions in the entrance hall this evening hadn’t made her shy with him. It spoke to her courage and her concern, something he found endearing and as unsettling as his desire to watch her.

  Laura’s fingers moved to shift the papers, the whisper of their movement as quiet as her steady breathing. Then she turned to the last page and her brows scrunched a touch.

  ‘You’ve found something?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ She shuffled back to the previous page. ‘Come and see.’

  Philip rose and leaned over the back of her chair, forcing himself to focus on the pages in her hand and not the clean scent of roses and soap heightened by her warm skin.

  ‘Here, in the list of French textile merchants. I recognise only one of the three companies. I’ve never he
ard of these two.’

  Philip straightened, all but forgetting the alluring little mole he’d noticed just above her collar-bone. He returned to his desk and removed a thick folio from the bottom drawer.

  ‘Did I find something?’ Laura twisted in the chair to view him, her hands gripping the rolled and tufted arm.

  He looked up from his file and nearly forgot the silk merchant. The eagerness illuminating her face and the way her body turned to tighten the silk of the dress against the points of her breasts struck him hard. It took all his effort to jerk his attention back to the newspaper clippings in the folio in front of him. ‘I collect stories about swindles and fake businesses. More than one potential client has tried to present shares in false companies as collateral.’

  He held up a newspaper clipping. ‘Two years ago, an actress and her husband were caught cheating shops out of goods by offering fake stock in fake companies. The husband served time in the Fleet for the debts the two of them accrued.’

  ‘I remember the story. It seems your investor did, too, and thought it a good idea. What’ll you do?’

  ‘Deny his request.’ Philip slid the clipping back into the folio. ‘Then I’ll warn my more reputable colleagues. One of them will start a rumour and within a short time, the man’s ploy will be revealed to all.’

  ‘And he’ll never know it was you who uncovered his dishonesty.’

  ‘There’s a great deal to be said for being discreet.’ He strolled to her chair and laid one hand on the back of it, trying to ignore the enticing curve of her creamy neck. ‘Thank you for helping me.’

  ‘It was my pleasure.’ She looked up at him, the gap between her breasts teasing him as much as her sparkling eyes. If he leaned down, he could sweep her lips with his. Despite fleeing from her earlier, he very much wanted to kiss her now. It was an unsettling urge, made worse by the subtle tilt of her head, the way she seemed to be inviting him to taste her. ‘I’m always here to help you when you need it.’

  A chill licked up his back at the intimacy curling between them. He strode to the fire, took up the poker and tapped it against the coals as much to elicit a bright flame as to try to regain his usual reserve. ‘Good, for there’s another matter I’d like your assistance with tomorrow. Mr Connor and I must seize the goods of a bookseller who gambled away my loan and has now defaulted. I’d like you to accompany us so you’ll understand the way of it. I don’t expect it to be a difficult matter, or a dangerous one.’

  * * *

  Laura’s excitement at having helped Philip resolve his troubles with the silk merchant vanished with this request. The manner in which her uncle’s other creditors had handled their affairs still burned. The thought of creating such anxiety in another person, even if they deserved it, didn’t sit well with her.

  ‘I understand how it might be troubling for you,’ he added in the face of her hesitation. ‘You don’t have to come if you don’t wish.’

  His recognition of her reluctance touched her. He was trying to be careful of her feelings. As much as she wanted to take up his offer to refuse, she couldn’t. Her presence tomorrow wasn’t about hurting someone or exacting revenge. It was about his genuine interest in her sharing his life, both the good and the unpleasant, and she couldn’t ignore that. She’d accepted him as her betrothed and with it came so many things, all of which she must face.

  ‘I’ll come. You’re right, it’s part of the business and I must learn it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ His gratitude was clear. ‘I’m sorry for what happened with Dr Hale today, and afterwards.’

  He straightened the poker in the stand, staring at it as if it held all the comfort she knew he was searching for.

  She came to stand in front of him and laid her hand on his shoulder. Beneath her palm his muscles stiffened. ‘You don’t need to apologise. It couldn’t have been easy for either of you.’

  His shoulder dropped a touch, the muscles easing their tightness. ‘No, it wasn’t, but thank you for trying to help and for your understanding.’

  He raised his hand and slid it along the line of her jaw, his solid touch dispelling the uncertainty from the hall along with Laura’s ability to breathe. The fire crackled in the grate and somewhere outside a horse whinnied. She didn’t move and neither did he. The force of his gaze sent her heart racing until she thought she might have to dart from the room to release the tension.

  Then he leaned down, his eyes closing at the same time as hers. His breath swept over the arch of her nose until at last his moist lips met hers.

  The taste of him touched places only disturbed once before, when the stationer’s son had stolen a kiss from her in the alley behind the draper shop. His lips had been nothing like Philip’s. They’d been wet, sloppy, inexperienced. Philip’s were controlled, powerful, leading, and Laura was more than willing to follow.

  He didn’t press his body to hers though her whole being craved it. She didn’t dare move too close. She didn’t want him to back away, or change his mind, as she knew he could at any moment. His fingers were light on her face, his pulse steady, dizzying, the most wonderful and the most frightening thing she’d ever experienced.

  For all her desire to lose herself, she felt him struggling between pushing forward and holding back. It was in the shifting pressure of his mouth against hers, at one moment hard and demanding, the next light and withdrawing until at last it was gone.

  She opened her eyes. His face remained so close to hers, she could throw her arms around his neck to pull him close again, but she didn’t. His unsteady breath and the way his hand lingered on her face told her they wanted the same thing, but the fight for self-control raged in his eyes. It won, it always did. One day it wouldn’t, she’d see to it, but not tonight.

  ‘I’m sorry. You’re here under my protection until we’re married.’ His eyes flicked to something on the desk before focusing on hers again. ‘I shouldn’t have been so forward.’

  She tilted her head and viewed him through her lashes, tempting and forgiving him all at once. ‘I think that was quite mild compared to how you acted with me the first time we met.’

  ‘You were much less tempting when you were armed with a pistol.’ He withdrew his hand, then made for the desk, the tender lover replaced by the reserved businessman. Laura regretted his absence at once but was also glad for it. The kiss had moved the ground beneath them like an earthquake and they were struggling to find new footing. ‘Speaking of meetings, tomorrow evening an associate of mine is holding a dinner party for his wife’s birthday.’

  The abrupt change in the conversation was startling. ‘A dinner?’

  ‘Yes. I’d like to introduce you to some of my associates and friends.’ He stepped behind his desk as if deliberately placing the solid wood between the two of them. It reminded Laura of an engraving she’d seen in a magazine once of a man chasing a woman around a table in amorous pursuit. Laura was tempted to try the same with Philip, if only to bring the light of laughter back into his eyes. She wanted to see more of the passionate man she’d experienced during his unexpected kiss, not the one turning to stone in front of her. ‘I have no desire to startle anyone else with the sudden announcement of our wedding. Do you mind?’

  ‘I’d be delighted.’ Delighted wasn’t the correct word, but it would do. Hopefully, his friends and associates would be more favourable to the idea of their match than Mr Williams had been. ‘What should I say when the wives of your associates enquire as to how we met?’

  ‘Tell them your uncle was one of my clients and introduced us. Our situation is not without precedent. Mrs Moseley was a governess before she married Mr Moseley and Mrs Charton was the daughter of one of Mr Charton’s clients.’

  ‘Then we’ll be in good company.’

  He tapped an envelope beside the blotter. ‘Not all of it will be good. Not everyone in attendance manages their loans the
way I do.’

  ‘I see.’ The discomfort of being associated with such a questionable business filled her again. To think she would have to be on familiar terms with less reputable people and enjoy it almost made her take back her acceptance of his invitation. However, she could hardly hold up her head in sanctimonious condemnation. Though her parents had tried to deal only with the most ethical of merchants, not all of their fellow drapers and cloth merchants had been so fair minded. Her parents had insisted, however, on dealing with merchants who did not buy from men who used slaves on their plantations. More than once she and her parents had attended some party where a guest or client of the host was well known for not only supporting slave owners, but dabbling in the trade themselves.

  ‘I look forward to meeting your friends.’ And learning more about him and his life. ‘For now, though, I think it’s time for me to go to bed. Goodnight, Philip.’

  Before he could respond, or perhaps tempt her to stay, she hurried back to her room. It was early, but with her body still vibrating from his firm lips against hers, it might take hours to fall asleep. The brief intimacy and what it might mean for their future excited Laura as much as accompanying him tomorrow troubled her. He’d surrendered to the passion inside him and kissed her. It gave her hope that some day he might surrender more.

  Chapter Seven

  The landau moved quickly through the twisting streets, the morning traffic having eased after the first rush of the day. Laura sat across from Philip and Mr Connor in the semi-darkness, the roof having been kept up despite the fine day. Mr Connor rested with his eyes closed, the dark circles underneath them betraying something of his night-time activities. Philip reviewed a list of goods, shuffling through the papers with all the seriousness of a cabinet member reviewing war plans. It was a harsh reminder of what they were about to do, to ruin a man the way her uncle had been ruined.

  No, she reminded herself, it wasn’t she and Philip who were ruining the man, but the man himself.

  She pulled at the fingers of her new gloves, the fine leather hot against her skin. Philip had apprised her of the situation at breakfast. The man, a bookseller, had gambling debts. He’d sworn to give up the cards if Philip loaned him the money to clear his debt and purchase a very popular selection of novels much in demand. The man had done neither, leaving Philip’s house and heading straight for the faro tables to lose all the money and his last chance to save his business. It seemed there were more dishonourable men like Laura’s uncle than she’d once realised.