Always without her.
An ugly thought occurred to her, and Annalise swallowed uncomfortably as she considered it. Was it possible Phillip decided to retire to Wales after the truth of his father and brother’s deception had been brought to light in an effort to brush it under the carpet? His life was comfortable now. Perhaps he would rather forget the manner in which she struggled all those years before?
Yet he declared she had a choice to accompany him or remain behind. Annalise didn’t want a choice. She wanted Phillip to want her to come with him to Wales because she was his wife and she belonged at his side.
She wasn’t certain she had the courage to ask to accompany him.
But even if she had the courage to tell him what she really thought of his departure to Wales, she would not do so in front of Mr. Thompkins. The Mr. Thompkins who delighted in bragging about his wealth and many connections to well-born members of the ton in London, including his cousin, an earl. He strutted about every social gathering like a peacock displaying its plumage, although she was certain he lacked the brains of such a bird. The pompous man had also carried a spiteful grudge against her since she had declined his offer of an affair years earlier. He had proven she had good reason to feel uneasy with his friendly words.
Thus, Annalise was not about to let him see just the sort of discord he had uncorked.
Summoning a footman with a jerk of her head, she raised her brows at both Phillip and Mr. Thompkins. “I adore the Welsh countryside and would like nothing more than to visit it again.”
Let the men make of that statement what they would.
Mr. Thompkins continued to rattle off nonsensical remarks, but she paid him no heed. Her attention had been captured by the man sitting next to her. Phillip maintained his silence, but his thumb squeezed her hand, before rubbing across her knuckles. Her thundering heart slowed at his touch, and that irritated her. She clung to her annoyance. She deserved her simmering anger.
Yet holding hands with him in this manner was the most intimate moment of her life.
While the party continued about her, Annalise’s every iota of concentration was focused on where Phillip touched her…and all the other places she wished he would touch her. She was furious with him, but his touched fanned the flames until she couldn’t tell the difference between her anger and her arousal.
Her attention was snapped when Phillip’s voice broke through her heated thoughts. “Beth, dear, that was lovely. Don’t you agree, Mr. Thompkins?”
Jerking her head back, Annalise realized her daughter had surrendered her spot on the pianoforte, for her and Mr. Newell had come to join them.
“I’ve always said she played like an angel,” the vile Mr. Thompkins said, pulling on his lapels and puffing out his chest. “Hopefully Mr. Newell realizes what a gem he has managed to secure.”
“I should hope so.” Phillip turned a critical stare on the young man standing by Beth’s side.
She felt a twinge of sympathy for Beth’s beau, but the sensation was fleeting. The young man had been avoiding her husband for most of the night, and it was time for him to line up for his inspection. Phillip was stern but fair, and if Mr. Newell could not withstand a few minutes of critical review, then perhaps he wasn’t a strong enough man to marry Beth.
“Oh, I’m well aware that Miss Dalton is far above me in every regard,” Mr. Newell said, directing an ingratiating smile at Beth.
Sliding her gaze to Phillip, Annalise wondered what he thought of his declaration.
Phillip’s face was a mask of indifference, and her heart squeezed once again for the young man, who was obviously doing his best to impress her husband. But it was too little too late to secure Phillip’s good opinion with such means, it seemed.
Thankfully, Mr. Thompkins excused himself to join a card game on the far side of the room, and Annalise would have wagered on the man’s disappointment to not have generated the tempest he desired.
Phillip abruptly kicked out a chair and pinned Mr. Newell with a stare before he jerked his chin. “Take a seat.”
Mr. Newell’s eyes grew wide, and he sank onto the chair like a millstone. Beth scowled, but Annalise shot her a quelling look, and the girl pressed her lips together and sat silently next to her fiancé.
“Mr. Newell, you will have to forgive me if I rattle off questions I failed to ask you earlier today.” Phillip spread his hands on his thighs. “I was distracted by Mrs. Dalton’s return.” With a large swallow, Mr. Newell nodded.
Phillip crossed one leg over the other. “Tell me, how do you expect to keep my daughter in the lifestyle she is used to?”
Mr. Newell’s gulp was audible. “I work as a clerk to a barrister in my late father’s—”
“A clerk?” Phillip ever so slightly wrinkled his nose.
“My father believed everyone should start at the bottom and work his way up by his own merit,” Mr. Newell responded, with a slight tinge of panic to his words.
“And have you worked your way up?”
The question sailed from Annalise’s lips before she knew what she was about. She resisted the urge to clamp a hand over her mouth.
Thankfully, Phillip did not seem perturbed by this, as he nodded his head encouragingly.
“I’ve been promoted to researcher. I’m confident I will be promoted to counsel soon enough.”
“Excellent.” Phillip leaned back in his chair, the picture of disinterest. “And what do you expect of Beth as a wife, aside from managing your household and providing you with beautiful children to carry on your name, et cetera?”
It took everything in Annalise’s power not to laugh at the look of boredom featured on Phillip’s face. She knew it was a ploy, knew it was to get under Mr. Newell’s skin, and yet Annalise found it wildly attractive.
Knowing Phillip, her husband, versus knowing the Captain Dalton who interrogated their future son-in-law so expertly were two very different things.
“I’m standing for political office.” Mr. Newell directed his gaze to Beth. “My hope is that Beth will help my campaign by hosting dinners, salons, fundraisers, and the whole gamut of political events.”
“And how do you feel about that, my dear?” Phillip looked directly at Beth, his expression soft. “Do you want to be a political wife?”
With her luminous brown eyes, Beth darted her gaze between Annalise, her father, and Mr. Newell. The heightened color in her cheeks and the frantic expression manipulating her face made it clear she did not know how to respond, and that angered her. Beth had always been confident enough to speak her mind—what had changed?
“I suspect Beth would be more comfortable stepping into the role if she were to have someone she could learn from.” She nodded. “And we may have solution for you.”
“What sort of solution?” Mr. Newell asked.
“We’ve hired Beth a tutor,” Phillip shared, as if the tutor had already been acquired.
Beth frowned. “A tutor? What sort of tutor?”
Annalise grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “A tutor to teach you what will be required of a political hostess.”
While the apprehension on Beth’s face was replaced by relief, Mr. Newell scowled. “Surely such an expense is unnecessary. My mother has already offered to teach Miss Dalton the skills she’ll need to help me advance in politics.”
A sneer appeared on Phillip’s face for the briefest moment before he smoothed it away. “I’m sure your mother would be a stellar instructor, but as Beth’s parents, we feel it our responsibility to see to her education and instruction.”
Mr. Newell’s mouth opened, but Annalise spoke before he could. “And we are sure your mother has many responsibilities that demand a good deal of her time. She is kind to offer her assistance to Beth, but I’m sure her deft hand could be used elsewhere.”
While she nodded knowingly to the young man, she glimpsed Phillip run his hand over his mouth as if to contain a smile.
To her annoyance, Mr. Newell pressed the issue. “Bu
t surely my mother is the best tutor for such a job. No tutor could teach Miss Dalton the lessons my mother could with her long experience.”
Phillip propped a foot on the opposite knee and reclined back. The relaxed pose seemed a juxtaposition to the severe expression that settled on his face. “Is that so? Well, I’ll be sure to tell Lady Jersey you said so.”
Mr. Newell’s eyes went wide, and his jaw slackened. Annalise would have laughed if she wasn’t surprised as well.
“Lady Jersey?” Beth said in an awed voice.
“Julia Peel, as I knew her. But yes, she up and married the Earl of Jersey while I was at sea.” Phillip leaned toward her, as if to impart a great secret. “I had the occasion to meet Sir Robert Peel on many occasions, both when he founded the Metropolitan Police Force and later when he served in Parliament.”
“And Lady Jersey has agreed to assist me?” Beth whispered.
Phillip’s nod was resolute. “She offered to help find you a suitable tutor. But if Mr. Newell believes his mother is still a better tutor than one tapped by the countess and the daughter of the former Prime Minister, then I’ll certainly write the good lady and let her know.”
“Oh no,” Mr. Newell declared, shaking his head furiously. “I’m sure my mother will understand that given the very generous opportunity to learn from the countess, Miss Dalton was, of course, obliged to accept the offer.”
Inclining his head, Phillip smiled. Or at least Annalise thought the twitch of his lips was his attempt at a smile. “We can discuss it more at the breakfast table, my dear. In the meantime, perhaps you would be gracious enough to entertain the party with another song?”
As their daughter nodded enthusiastically and returned to the pianoforte, Mr. Newell in tow, Annalise shook her head as she considered how quickly Phillip had secured the girl’s unwavering esteem.
“Did you really intend to discuss finding a tutor for Beth with Lady Jersey?” she asked, in a voice barely above a whisper.
“I do.”
Annalise gaped at him. “So you truly know her?”
“Of course I do. I met her when she was a girl.” He yanked on his cuff. “I was not lying when I said I knew Peel.”
“I would never dream of calling you a liar.”
Faint lines of amusement appeared at the outer corners of his eyes. “You are all that is good and proper, Mrs. Dalton. Do forgive me.”
She chuckled but sobered quickly. “Do you believe you’ll able to convince Lady Jersey to help Beth?”
“I do. I helped the earl out of an unfortunate situation several years ago, and I suspect she’ll be willing to assist as thanks.”
Annalise nibbled on her lip before realizing what she was doing. Dropping her voice, she said, “I do not want Mrs. Newell to tutor Beth. She’s always been pleasant to me, but she’s known as a hard woman. Strict, judgmental, and harsh in her criticism. And since her husband was part of the Board of Guardians, no one has stood up to her. I would prefer that Beth not learn at the knee of such a woman.”
“Did Mrs. Newell extend the offer to mentor Beth to you first?” Phillip asked.
“She did not.” She swallowed. “I only found out when Mrs. Newell mentioned it during a dinner.”
The woman had tossed out the offer to Beth loud enough for the people sitting near them to assume it was an agreed-upon arrangement. Annalise had been incensed. Now she only hoped to be nearby to catch Mrs. Newell’s expression when she learned about Lady Jersey’s mentorship.
“I had hoped this dinner would assuage my concerns about this marriage,” he murmured, his gaze once again on their daughter, “but it’s done anything but.”
Unable to think of a response, Annalise held her tongue.
“Do you suppose she felt compelled to accept his proposal?”
“It’s a possibility.” She considered Beth, playing intently on the pianoforte. “Most of her friends have already married and set up their homes. Perhaps she feels she should do the same.”
“If she had true feelings for the man, the rest would be inconsequential—”
She curled her hands into fists. “But what do feelings matter to marriage? I felt a warm regard and respect for you, but we were no love match. I’m certain you felt the same when we pledged ourselves before the vicar at the parish. And yet our marriage has been successful…thus far,” she couldn’t help but add.
“Thus far? What is that supposed to mean?”
Annalise smoothed imaginary wrinkled from her skirts and willed herself to be honest. “It means that now that you’ve returned home, things may change. But then again, they may not, seeing as how you plan to sojourn to Wales.”
Her tone was cutting, and yet Annalise couldn’t seem to help herself. He was leaving her. Again.
Instead of responding in a similar manner, Phillip sighed. “I have always wanted to retire to Wales. I thought you would be relieved.”
“Relieved?” She could not keep the incredulity from her voice.
“With me tucked away in Wales, you can continue your life here in Bristol without interruption.”
Annalise wanted to throw something. Preferably something fragile and delicate, so she could hear it shatter as it slammed into the opposite wall. “Whatever gave you the impression I wanted to continue on without interruption, as you put it? Perhaps I was hoping to build something new, together,” she threw out as she stood and strolled away.
Well.
Phillip was fairly certain his vivacious, good-natured wife was angry with him. Very angry, he wagered, based on the way she swiped a glass of ratafia off a footman’s tray as she stalked away.
Damn, but she was magnificent. He’d always found Annalise beautiful, and he was always eager to return home to her smiles and warm laughs and, if he were lucky, her warm bed. But in that moment, seconds after she had declared her anger with his plans to retire, alone, to the estate in Wales, Phillip had felt as if all the air had been sucked free from his lungs. He felt bamboozled and ten leagues out to sea.
It was an alarming and worrying sensation. It was also a bit cheering and completely new. For much of his career, he’d relied on his ability to predict the tide, anticipate the next move his enemy would make, or gamble on which greenhorn would wash out and which wouldn’t. And despite his experience, he had not anticipated his wife would be upset about his retirement plans. Perhaps I was hoping to build something new, together. Together. She had used that word several times, but it was just now sinking in that perhaps she meant it. Phillip’s throat grew tighter.
He spied Annalise speaking with a pair of women in the adjoining room, a small smile on her lips as she nodded her head at whatever the women were saying. She had always been a good listener. When he had been on leave, and the children would ply him for stories of his so-called adventures, Annalise never complained about the content of his tales or the length of them. Yet afterwards, she would ask about the things he didn’t emphasize in his narratives, the off-handed comments he made that showed the very real toll such work took on him. Those were the things that mattered to her, and in turn, it made him trust that despite their time apart, his wife truly cared about his well-being.
The least he could do is listen to her. He had believed his father when he had relayed Annalise’s supposed wishes without confirming them with her, so it was only right that he now believe her when she spoke of what she wanted.
Chapter Five
A cold breeze rattled the naked limbs of the trees that stretched over the narrow park path Annalise and Beth walked on not far from their home. They had donned their warmest wraps and capes to pick up a portion of Beth’s trousseau from the modiste. Once again, Phillip had insisted they take the carriage, but mother and daughter had managed to slip out the door before it could be brought around. Annalise knew he would be upset, but she longed for some fresh air, even if it was bitter and biting.
Even as they strolled through the barren landscape of the park, their arms tightly wrapped together, occasiona
lly bracing themselves against the harsh wind, Annalise was happy for some time alone with her daughter.
“Were you aware Father knew the Countess of Jersey?” Beth asked, her teeth chattering around her words.
“I became aware when we discussed finding you a tutor or mentor. He mentioned her offer to aid the search for a suitable candidate, and I thought it a brilliant suggestion. If Lady Jersey is willing to assist you, I hope you do well to learn as much as you can from whomever she recommends.” Annalise bumped her shoulder into Beth’s. “Her experience in the political realm far exceeds Mrs. Newell’s.”
Beth squeezed her arm, her eyes bright. “Truth be told, I had been dreading my lessons with Mrs. Newell. She can be…”
“Ill-tempered? Harsh? Curt?”
“Yes, all of those are appropriate.” Beth chuckled. “It never occurred to me to ask you to hire me a tutor instead.”
“It never occurred to me either.” She smiled. “It was your father’s idea. I’m glad he suggested it.”
Dropping her head, Beth sighed. “I’ll make sure to thank him. I’m quite relieved I won’t have to learn from Mrs. Newell.”
That was twice she mentioned the older woman, and Annalise would not let the subject lie. If Beth was to marry Mrs. Newell’s son, she would be forced to interact with the woman on a consistent basis. Did her daughter believe that once she married Mr. Newell, his mother would fade from their lives? That Mrs. Newell would surrender the reins of her son’s life willingly simply because he had taken a wife?
But if she were to broach the subject, Annalise had to do it carefully. She did not want to make it seem she was questioning Beth’s decisions and thus her judgement, even if she was. Her daughter could be mulish when challenged, and she would block out anything she deemed as critical.
Sucking a breath between her teeth, Annalise ventured forth with deliberately chosen words. “Dearest, how would you describe your relationship with Mrs. Newell?”
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