A Debt Paid in Marriage Page 23

  Laura broke from him, leaning into his chest and clutching his jacket. He hugged her tight, supporting her. For the first time, her exhaustion didn’t frighten him. Eventually her weakness would fade like the nasty stain on the floor of their bedroom and the horrid events of the other night.

  ‘I guess I wasn’t as strong as I thought,’ she stated without submission to her listlessness but in jest of it, defying it. She wasn’t afraid of her injuries, wouldn’t surrender her life or their future together. Neither would he.

  ‘No, you’re so much stronger.’ Philip laid his forehead against hers, gently so as not to cause her pain, his body aching to be close to hers. In time, when she was recovered, they would be as one once again, and from it would come children and a future that he’d almost surrendered to his fear. ‘But now, you must rest.’

  He bundled her into his arms and lifted her up. The firmness of her against him was a reminder of her life, her strength and her love. He’d been so wrong to think he could close himself off to the woman he’d known from the first was meant to be his.

  He carried her out of the room, past Mr Charton and Justin.

  Mr Charton nudged Justin with his elbow. ‘It’s a beautiful thing.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Philip murmured to Laura, kissing the soft hair framing her face. She didn’t look away as he carried her upstairs, her love for him as sure as her arms around his neck, her slender form in his hands.

  At the top of the stairs, Jane and Mrs Townsend stood outside the nursery. Jane gaped at the sight of them. Mrs Townsend’s hands flew to her heart, her besotted expression almost as sweet as Jane’s.

  ‘Isn’t it romantic?’ Jane sighed, her childish excitement feeding Philip’s.

  ‘Hush now, Jane,’ Mrs Townsend chided with a laugh, taking her by the shoulders and drawing her back into the nursery.

  ‘But it is, isn’t it?’ Jane insisted.

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  Thomas’s happy coos joined their conversation as Mrs Townsend closed the door behind them.

  Philip carried Laura into his room, the place which encompassed their first meeting and the first trial they’d been forced to overcome. He knew there would be more difficult times ahead as well as good, life never flowed so simply, but they would face them all together, without fear of the future.

  ‘Will you stay with me this afternoon?’ Laura asked, as he laid her gently on the bed, kneeling beside it to keep her arms around his neck, unwilling to let go.

  ‘I will stay with you. Always.’

  Epilogue

  ‘May I have your attention, everyone.’ The ring of a knife against crystal faded into the clear, late summer air. Mr Charton stood with a full glass of punch near the fountain, his nose a little red from one too many glasses.

  Everyone mingling through the Rathbone garden stopped their conversation and turned to him. Philip watched him raise his glass, wondering what he was about. Overhead, paper lanterns glowed brightly, the candles inside flickering like the stars in the evening breeze.

  ‘I want to offer my congratulations to Jane on her fourteenth birthday. She’s becoming quite the charming young lady.’ Mr Charton pointed at his lanky son, who stood beside Jane. The young man was clearly besotted with her. ‘You mind your manners with her, Milton, or you’ll have Mr Rathbone to answer to. He’s quite the boxer. Why, I remember once when we were near Portsmouth, preparing to inspect some collateral. My, what collateral it was. I’ve never seen statues in such positions. They were—’

  ‘I think we should save your story for another time, darling,’ Mrs Charton interrupted, tugging her husband’s arm just hard enough to make her point.

  ‘But I—’ he began to protest before a stern look from his wife finally sobered him. ‘Yes, of course, another time. To Jane.’

  Everyone raised their glasses and chimed in unison. ‘To Jane.’

  Philip nodded at his sister, who glowed under both the guests’ attention and that of the young Mr Charton. Dressed in a pale-blue gown with an appropriately high neckline, she appeared the confident young lady she was quickly becoming under Mrs Townsend’s tutelage. Young Mr Charton whispered something to her. Her eyes sparkled as she listened, then a hearty laugh escaped her. In the past few months she’d shed much of her seriousness. As had Philip.

  ‘Jane looks very lovely tonight, my compliments to you and Mrs Fairley,’ he said to Laura.

  She stood beside him, dressed in a silk gown in a shade of green as rich as the leaves of the rose bushes. ‘Oh, I had nothing to do with it. She chose the pattern all on her own.’

  ‘She selected a modest dress without a fight?’

  ‘She did.’

  ‘You and your mother have worked a miracle.’ Though the miracle was more in the change in Jane’s temperament than her attire. He couldn’t remember when she’d last stood in front of his desk, hands balled at her side, punctuating each demand with the stomp of her left foot. He vaguely remembered enduring such a tantrum during Laura’s first night in his house, before Laura’s love had brought him back to everyone who surrounded him.

  Mr and Mrs Charton passed Philip and Laura as the wife drew her husband from more libations. Mr Charton paused, almost swaying into Philip. ‘Portsmouth was one strange evening, wasn’t it, Rathbone?’

  ‘Indeed it was,’ Philip agreed, before arching a knowing eyebrow at Laura. ‘Though we’ve had stranger, haven’t we, my dear?’

  ‘Indeed we have.’

  ‘Though nothing can top the printer’s shop. You remember him, the one who use to sell all those portraits of women—’

  ‘Another time, Henry,’ Mrs Charton insisted, twining her arm in his and leading him off to where the Moseleys stood.

  Laura crossed her arms beneath her breasts, drawing the silk tight over their roundness and stirring Philip’s interest. ‘Why haven’t I heard the story of the statues or the prints before?’

  He caressed her elbow just above the glove, making her shiver. ‘Because they’re quite stunning.’

  ‘Then I look forward to hearing them tonight.’ She squeezed his arm, making it clear the story was not all she expected from him that evening.

  Philip returned the silent hint with a wink, wondering if they’d be missed if they disappeared upstairs for a while. With Jane ensconced by the fountain with the two Felton girls and young Charton, she wouldn’t likely search out her brother or sister-in-law. Mrs Townsend could serve as chaperon, though she was too much involved in a discussion with Dr Hale to take much notice of her young charge.

  Laura rose up on her toes, resting her hands on Philip’s shoulder to whisper in his ear. ‘Come with me, I have something to tell you.’

  He turned, finding her lips temptingly close to his. ‘Does it have anything to do with clocked stockings?’

  With a devilish smile she lowered herself from his shoulder. ‘It might.’

  ‘Then lead the way.’

  She took his hand and pulled him into the shadows of the portico, seeking out the darkest corner near the study where the rose bushes were highest. Orange light from inside the house spilled over the stone still warm from the late afternoon sun.

  ‘Are we to abandon our guests?’ Heat settled low in his body, the idea of creeping away enticing.

  ‘Not just yet.’ She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her body into his until it was all he could do not to press her against the wall and shock anyone who might happen by.

  ‘Then what surprise do you have for me?’ He touched his cheek to hers, her gardenia perfume intoxicating.

  ‘Quite a large one,’ she whispered, her breath teasing his hair. ‘I’m with child.’

  His fingers tightened on her waist, crinkling the silk. He leaned back, studying her eager eyes. ‘You’re certain?’

  ‘Dr Hale conf
irmed it this afternoon.’ She arched back, a wide smile making her glow as bright as the lanterns. ‘In a few months’ time, we will be keeping Thomas’s new nurse quite busy with another charge.’

  Philip stroked her forehead and the faint red line that streaked over her eyebrow. It was the only thing which remained of the terrible night last spring. Philip tightened his arms around her, bringing her in closer to him. The darkness of the past was far behind him. All there existed now was a future with Laura and their child. He wanted both more than anything he’d ever wanted before.

  ‘Are you happy?’ she pressed at his silence, nervously biting her lower lip.

  He met her eyes, the hazel depths which had first caught his notice, capturing him again. Elation rose from deep inside him, welling up until the sternness of his cheeks eased and a smile wider than any he’d ever experience spread across his lips and through his entire being. ‘It’s the most wonderful news I could receive.’

  Her mouth fell open at the sight of his grin before her pretty lips turned up into a radiant smile to match his. ‘Philip, I’ve never seen you like this!’

  ‘And you will again, and again and again!’ He picked her up and whirled her around, his deep laugh filling the evening air. It was joined by Laura’s as the two of them twirled together, heedless of their guests and anything but each other and their joy.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from REUNITED WITH THE MAJOR by Anne Herries.

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  Prologue

  Samantha had felt the tears sting her eyes as she’d seen the grave faces of the young officers who had carried her wounded husband home to her. Every one of them had seemed devastated, torn with genuine grief by the sight of their colonel lying so badly wounded on the makeshift stretcher.

  ‘We’re so sorry, Mrs Scatterby,’ each of the young men had said in turn before they’d left. ‘It was just bad luck. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time...caught by the blast.’

  She’d raised her head to look at them proudly through her unshed tears. She was a beautiful young woman, her hair like pale silk, and her eyes a shade of blue that defied description. Much younger than her wounded husband, she looked vulnerable and in need of a protective shoulder—and not a man there would have refused it had she asked, but she was too proud.

  ‘I shall not give up,’ she said. ‘He’s still alive. I’ll take him home to England and I’ll nurse him back to health.’

  She saw the pity in their eyes, but refused to give way to her grief until they had all gone. Her dearest Percy was clinging to life despite the wounds he’d received in the heat of battle. The doctor visited, taking his time in examining his patient, before turning to her with a shake of the head.

  ‘I can patch up his wounds, but he has been damaged internally and that I cannot heal. Even if he survives for a few weeks I doubt he will ever be strong again. The best you can do for him is to take him home to an English country house with a garden and care for him until the end. I fear you will find it a trying task for he will be an invalid and in pain.’

  ‘He took me in when I had nothing,’ Samantha told him proudly. ‘I will care for him while he has breath in his body.’

  ‘He loved you very much. We all thought him a lucky man, Mrs Scatterby. I have no doubt that if anyone can pull him through it will be you.’

  Samantha thanked him.

  For some weeks Percy was too ill to move, but then, as the wounds to his leg and shoulder healed, he seemed to improve, though often he was caught by a racking cough that made it difficult for him to breathe.

  His devoted wife hardly left his side. During the sea voyage from Spain she spent most of the crossing in their cabin, tenderly caring for his needs. Kind and considerate young officers designated as their escort took them to a pleasant country house. The house had been provided by one of their number and Samantha was assured that she and the Colonel were welcome to stay for as long as they wished.

  Once she and Percy were settled, the young men came to take their leave of her and return to the fighting. Samantha thanked them all for their kindness.

  ‘If ever you need anything,’ one of the officers said. He was the quiet one amongst them, strong and dark-haired, his face attractive rather than handsome with a firm chin that spoke of determination. ‘Just write to me, Sam. I shall come as soon as I can and, whatever you need, I shall do my best for you.’

  ‘That is very kind of you, Brock,’ she said, and smiled, feeling pleased that he had used her name. They had all been in the habit of calling her by her name on the Peninsula, but since Percy’s wounding it seemed they were all so polite and distant. ‘I do not know what I should have done had you not all been so very kind.’

  ‘He was our colonel,’ one of them said. ‘We all thought the world of him, Mrs Scatterby—and if ever you should need anything, you have only to ask. We are at your command.’

  Samantha thanked them and one by one they took their leave. All save one, who stayed behind to tell her that the house was hers for as long as she wished.

  ‘My parents live only twenty miles away. If you need anything...anything at all...’

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, emotion almost choking her because he could never know what his kindness meant to her. ‘I do not know what I should have done without your help.’

  Suddenly Samantha could bear her grief no longer, perhaps because he was leaving her and she did not know how she could have borne these past weeks without his comforting presence. The tears trickled silently down her cheeks, in her eyes a look of mute appeal that drew a response from the handsome young officer.

  ‘Sam, my dearest love,’ he said thickly, the words wrenched from him almost reluctantly, because they were both aware of the beloved man lying on his sickbed upstairs, yet both knew that this had been inevitable. Brock reached for her, drawing her close against him, his mouth seeking hers in a tender and yet passionate kiss that made her cling to him desperately. ‘I adore you, want you so much. You know, have known, haven’t you?’

  For a moment the naked truth was in her eyes, the longing and need that she had suppressed all these months since she’d first known that she’d fallen in love with one of her husband’s men. She felt that he wanted her, loved her in return, and yet there was a barrier there between them. Samantha wasn’t sure what had kept them from speaking of their love before this; perhaps duty on her part, and a genuine affection for Percy, for she did love her husband, but it was a gentle, grateful love and not this wild passion that was now roaring through her body, setting her aflame with need and desire.

  She longed to confess her love, to speak of a future when they could be together, but that would be disloyal to the man who trusted them both. Suddenly, she realised that she had been on the verge of giving herself to the man she loved more than she could ever have dreamed and her darling Percy was lying upstairs in constant pain, needing her, trusting her. A surge of revulsion swept through her at her own behaviour. How could she treat the man who had done so much for her so despicably?

  ‘I know we must wait, but one day...’ Brock began, but she thrust him away, shaking her he
ad, the horror of what she was doing flooding through her.

  ‘No, we must not even think such a thing. We must think of Percy. He trusts us, Brock. He trusts us. This is wrong, wicked.’

  Brock drew back, looking at her as he saw the horror and revulsion in her eyes, and recoiled from it, a slash of pain in his face so terrible that it made Samantha want to recall her words, but she could only turn away in confusion.

  ‘I shall not call again before I return to the regiment,’ he said, ‘but if you need anything go to my father. He will help you.’

  Her heart was breaking as she struggled with the confusion of her feelings, and she turned, but he was walking away, leaving her, and she did not have the strength to call him back.

  Samantha was left alone and she thought her heart would break, but she did not know then that there was worse to come. That the pain she felt now would increase tenfold and stay with her for ever.

  Copyright © 2015 by Anne Herries

  ISBN-13: 9781460378601

  A Debt Paid in Marriage

  Copyright © 2015 by Georgie Reinstein

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.