She sensed more than saw Beth frown. “My relationship with Mrs. Newell? What do you mean?”
“How does she treat you?” She patted Beth’s arm. “Whenever I am around, she seems polite, if a tad overbearing, but how does she treat you when I am not there?”
An awkward pause ensued, and Annalise chewed her cheek as she waited with bated breath for her daughter’s response.
“Mrs. Newell can be very…critical. Not just of me,” she rushed to add, “but of everyone. And of everything. She finds favor with very few things, as far as I’ve seen.”
“Has she said anything to you directly?”
Beth nodded and dropped her head further. “She told me I shouldn’t wear yellow for it washes me out.”
“Well, that was rude.” Annalise narrowed her eyes as visions of stepping on the hem of Mrs. Newell’s dress danced through her head. “Yellow sets off the honey tones in your hair.”
“I ignored that comment for the most part.” Beth shrugged. “I figured a woman who routinely wore such atrocious gowns shouldn’t be giving fashion advice.”
“Touché, my dear!” Annalise declared, delighted by the girl’s levelheaded approach.
“But she did say…” Beth sighed, the sound seeming to deflate her. “She said she never dreamed her only son would marry a woman with such low connections.”
Red clouded Annalise’s vision. “There is nothing about your connections that are low.” Resisting the urge to march to the Newell house and give Mrs. Newell a thrashing, she asked, “And what did your fiancé say in response to such mean-spirited drivel?”
She wasn’t sure that Beth would answer. In fact, the girl turned her face away and acted as if she were inspecting the withered vegetation adorning the park. But Annalise was determined to wait her out. Beth’s response was important, and Annalise realized it would determine whether she continued to support the wedding.
With a loud exhale, Beth finally said, “He didn’t say anything.”
Closing her eyes, Annalise counted to ten before she responded. “My darling, you deserve a husband who has pride in you, as a person and as his wife. A man who will defend you to anyone who makes the mistake of mistreating you.” Annalise drew Beth to a halt and waited until she met her gaze. “I fear Mr. Newell has proven himself to be unworthy of the task. He does not deserve you, my dear.”
“Oh, Mama,” Beth cried, launching herself into Annalise’s arms. “It was terrible. It was at the Sorenson soirée, and Mrs. Newell had just introduced me to several friends of hers. And then she made that awful claim, and in my presence as if somehow I couldn’t hear her. I was so humiliated.”
“Of course she knew you could hear her,” Annalise said around clenched teeth as she patted her daughter’s back. “The vile woman did it on purpose. She wanted to intimidate you, remind you of your place and of how grateful you should feel to be marrying her son. Her spineless son who should be kissing your feet for even deigning to look his way.”
Beth sniffled miserably.
“Did you say anything in return?”
“Of course not!” The girl sounded scandalized. “I thought it best to ignore the situation.”
Annalise scowled. “My dear, you are allowed to defend yourself. Ignoring a bully is one way to handle their vitriol, but it’s not the only way.”
Beth sighed. “I just thought, what would Mother do? Ignoring the comment seemed to be the course you’d recommend.”
It felt as if the earth shifted under her feet. Her daughter thought she would recommend overlooking the insult Mrs. Newell gave her rather than offer a word of defense? Had she taught Beth to curb her bold personality to make herself more agreeable to others, even when they deserved no such deference?
Is that what she had done during her marriage? Had she ever stood up to her father-in-law? Had she ever questioned his decisions? Annalise gulped a painful swallow, knowing the uncomfortable answer.
“I was so disappointed,” Beth continued, around her hiccups, “in Silas and Mrs. Newell. Mostly in Silas. If he agrees with his mother’s assessment of me and my connections, why is he marrying me?”
“Because your family is well situated in Bristol, socially and financially, and with your father newly returned and retired, he commands respect.” Annalise wiped a tear from Beth’s cheek, a lump lodged in her throat. “And you are a beautiful girl. He probably enjoys having you on his arm, and he knows your pretty face will play well with electors.”
“How unfair,” Beth said, the octave of her voice rising. “As if there was not more to me as a person than my appearance.”
“It is a tough lesson every young girl learns at some point in time.” Annalise pressed a kiss to her crown. “Society is only concerned with a woman’s looks and her reputation, and if she loses one or the other, or heaven forfend, both, the woman ceases to serve any purpose. It’s cruel and unfair.”
Beth was silent for a time, and Annalise continued to stroke her back. She knew such behavior might cause a scene, but she didn’t care. Her daughter was upset, and everyone else could jump off a dock and into the frozen waters if it offended them.
Still, good breeding made her dart her gaze about, and she sighed in relief when she spied no one in sight.
Licking her lips, she said, “Darling, I have a question to ask you, but I’m afraid it will upset you.”
Pulling back, Beth blinked her swollen eyes. “I may become upset, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to ask me.”
Battling back a smile, Annalise squeezed her. “Brave girl. Very well, I’ll just ask it. What happened to Mr. Ramsgate?”
“Mr. Ramsgate?” Beth whispered, dropping her gaze.
“Yes, Mr. Ramsgate. Oliver’s friend from London.” She softened her voice. “I was under the impression you were both fond of each other.”
Pressing her lips together, Beth offered a curt nod. “I thought so too.”
“Then what happened, dearest?”
Beth tensed and made to step back, but Annalise pulled her closer instead. After a moment, she relaxed. “I don’t know. He returned to London to visit his parents, and then he never came back.”
Annalise was unsure what to say to that. Any number of reasons could have prevented the young man from returning, yet she had seen the way young Henry Ramsgate had looked at her daughter. As if she were the most beautiful, fascinating creature he’d ever beheld. She had expected him to ask to pay his attentions to Beth, and she would not have objected. He was intelligent, kind, and a hard-working surveyor with the railway. Mr. Ramsgate also came from a good middle-class family who lived on Gloucester Street in London. A pairing between the two would have been ideal, yet it had not happened. She wondered if that was why Beth had accepted Mr. Newell’s suit with what seemed like little thought just a few months later.
“What should I do, Mother?”
Annalise blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Do you think I should marry Mr. Newell?” Beth pulled back to meet her gaze, her eyes red rimmed. “After all of this, I’m not sure I want to.”
“It’s not for me to say, my darling. Only you know if Mr. Newell is truly deserving of not only your affections, but your lifelong commitment.”
Beth clenched her eyes shut.
“But I will say this.” Annalise stroked her cheek. “If Mr. Newell was not willing to defend you to his mother, would he be inclined to defend any children you had together? If someone were to insult them, claim they are less than, would he dispute such assertions with all the fierceness a father can?”
Annalise thought of Phillip. He would never let anyone disrespect her or the children. She knew it down to the marrow of her bones. And when he learned of how Mrs. Newell had treated Beth, and Mr. Newell’s lack of defense, he was going to be apoplectic.
“Probably not.” Beth’s voice was miserable. “I can’t call off the wedding, though. It’s so soon.”
Annalise stroked the hair back from her daughter’s brow. “
Beth, do you want to sacrifice your entire life being married to a man who doesn’t respect you? All because you don’t want to cancel the wedding?”
Beth opened and closed her mouth several times, her face pale. Taking pity on her, Annalise squeezed her shoulders. “You don’t have to make decision at this moment, but I believe you should spend some time considering very carefully what you want.”
“What if I don’t know what I want, Mama?”
“You’ll have to figure that out.”
She thought of Phillip’s desire to leave for Wales after the wedding. Would he still depart if their daughter called off the event? Would it really change the root of his desire to leave?
And would she go with him?
“We all have to make a decision about the course of our future at one point or another.”
Phillip walked through the small dressing room and paused outside of Annalise’s chamber. The door was ajar, and she was his wife…but still he hesitated. Should he knock and wait for her admittance? Just stroll in as if he owned the place? He did, after all.
In the end, the decision was taken from him when Annalise called out, “Do enter, Phillip.”
The room smelled of her perfume, and he greedily inhaled the scent into his lungs. He spied her sitting at her dressing table, pinning her mahogany curls up into a simple but elegant coiffure. Her curious gaze met his in the mirror.
“You haven’t changed your mind about accompanying me to the dinner party tonight, have you?”
“I have not.” He clenched his hands to keep from running his fingers through the wispy curls at the base of her neck. “But are you certain it’s to be a dinner party? The Newells promised us an intimate dinner, and it turned into a bit of a crush.”
“Yes, there were far too many people in attendance at the Newells’, if you ask me.” Annalise crinkled her nose, and it kicked up the corner of Phillip’s mouth.
“Precisely why I distrust the Pellinghams’ invitation.”
Annalise shook her head as she reached for a simple strand of pearls. He batted her hand away when she attempted to clasp them behind her neck.
“Was there a reason you and Beth snuck away before I could have the carriage readied for you?” he asked, taking longer with the clasp than necessary.
“We needed to talk, and I find that sometimes a walk will loosen the tongue.”
Phillip arched a disbelieving brow. “Even when it’s so frigid out your tongue is likely to freeze to the roof of your mouth?”
She chuckled, laugh lines crinkling at the corners of her eyes. “Even then.”
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Mr. Newell. Mrs. Newell. How they’ve treated her when I’m not around.”
He instantly felt his muscles tense. “And what did she tell you?”
Annalise paused, and Phillip settled his hand on her shoulder. She stiffened for an incremental second and then relaxed into his touch. “What she disclosed convinced me that Silas Newell is not at all deserving of her hand and most definitely should not be entrusted with her heart.”
Anger singed up his throat. “What exactly did she say?”
“That Mrs. Newell has been unkind to Beth in his presence, and her future husband has done nothing to defend her.”
I knew it. Phillip had taken one look at the young Silas Newell with his tousled hair and ingratiating smirk, and he’d known he was a coward. After working with scores of officers, enlisted men, prisoners, and members of law enforcement, Phillip thought it safe to say he was quite familiar with the attributes of men. And he could spot a craven bastard from a league away.
With great effort, he kept his anger from his voice. “Did you encourage her to call off the wedding?”
Annalise shifted under his touch. “I wouldn’t say I encouraged her…”
“What did you say, then?”
She narrowed her eyes at his in the mirror. “I suggested she take some time to consider what she truly wants.”
“And if she doesn’t know what she wants?” Phillip threw his hands into the air. “She’s only nineteen years old. What nineteen-year-old knows their own mind?”
“I did.”
Her voice was small, but she stared resolutely back at him. Annalise had been younger than Beth when they had married. Once again, he was reminded of how very brave she was.
An equal dose of shame and something he couldn’t name—some warmth that spread from his fingertips to all points within his body—melded together, leaving him confused and unsure of what to do or say.
Seemingly unaware of his struggles, Annalise continued. “I think we need to give her two or three days to determine what she truly wants. The wedding may be next week, but we still have time.”
Phillip consented warily. “If you insist.”
She turned about in her seat then, her dark eyes pinning him to the spot. “I’m not insisting. I’m merely suggesting we give our daughter time to plumb the depths of her heart. She was in love with one boy who abandoned her, leaving her susceptible to Mr. Newell’s suit. But now I believe the blinders have fallen off from her eyes, and she may be prepared to stand on her own two feet again.”
“I certainly hope so.” His thoughts abruptly snagged on her words. “What do you mean she was in love with another lad?”
Snatching her reticule from the vanity, she laughed. “That, my dear husband, will have to wait for another time. We will be late if we don’t depart.”
“Oh, very well,” he grumbled, following her down the stairs.
On the short ride to the Pellinghams’ home, Phillip peppered her with questions about the boy Beth had fallen in love with, but his wife held her tongue, merely raising her brows and shaking her head in response. He found her silence in the face of such pressure strangely stimulating.
Which was altogether inconvenient considering how ravishing she looked. Never had he wanted to take Annalise to bed more than he did at that moment. And yet the thought made him strangely nervous. During all his past leaves, he’d had no reservations coming to her bed, and she'd always welcomed him with shy smiles. But now that he had been home for a time, eating breakfast across the table from her every morning, listening to her tinkling laugh, fighting back smiles at her cutting wit, Phillip found himself more than a little infatuated with her. He wanted to touch her and send her into the same heightened state of awareness he had been existing in.
Phillip knew that when he finally went to her, their bedsport would encompass more than just physical sensations, for him at least, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Anxious, definitely. Nervous, absolutely. Slightly uncertain, most assuredly.
“And here we are,” she said, as a respectable townhome came into view, festive candles lit in the windows. “The Pellinghams have three children, a son, and two daughters. Their daughters are several years older than our children, but their son, Christopher, was at university with Oliver.”
“Well, I look forward to making their acquaintance.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Say, has Oliver ever invited blokes home from London? Perhaps one of them will snag Beth’s eye, and she will be saved from having to marry that insufferable prat who’s too cowardly to defend her to his mother.”
A pensive look crossed her face. “Perhaps we can encourage him to invite his friends to dine with us for the holidays.”
Phillip debated whether to press her. Her expression tempted him to, but instead he nodded. “A superb idea, my dear.”
After considering her for a moment longer, Phillip smoothed his waistcoat and exited the carriage. Annalise lifted her hem and took his extended hand, allowing him to help her from the conveyance. She paused on the walk, staring up at the townhouse with an indecipherable expression. Annalise finally turned to him, her brows raised in question as if she were waiting on him and not the other way around. Still, he offered a quick nod, tucked her arm around his, and escorted her to the door.
Just when Phillip thought he had a grasp on wh
o his wife was, she surprised him.
Several long hours later, Phillip helped his wife back into the carriage. Annalise had once again charmed the other guests with her friendly demeanor, but Phillip knew something was wrong. His wife was always genuine in everything she did, and yet her smiles that night had seemed strained. Her laugh had rung false. And when he pressed her for a cause, she waved away his concerns in the same manner in which one would shoo away a bothersome insect. He was troubled. And annoyed.
Phillip settled onto the squab across from her and tried to make out her features in the near darkness. Twenty years earlier, he may have been able to catch a glimpse of her expression, but now all he saw were shadows.
He coughed into his hand. “Well, I enjoyed myself much more with the Pellinghams than I expected.”
Annalise’s answering laugh was low. “I enjoyed myself as well. Their gatherings are always interesting.”
“How so?”
Phillip thought she may have shrugged but couldn’t be certain. “Their guest lists are always varied. Sometimes they invite artists, sometimes politicians, sometimes those who run charities. I always learn something new when I attend.”
“And you attend frequently?”
She turned to look out the small window. “When I’m invited, yes.”
His wife was being modest. Phillip had noticed almost immediately that Annalise was a favorite of their hosts. Mr. and Mrs. Pellingham treated her as an old and dear friend, and they plied her for information about Beth’s upcoming wedding and how Oliver was liking his position with the railway. But it was when they turned their attention to him, inquiring how Phillip was adjusting to life on land, that he realized they truly cared for his response because they were fond of Annalise.
And because of that, he had wanted to be honest with them. He wanted to tell them the adjustment had been difficult, especially considering the fact his wife was a popular and lovely woman who was much in demand as a guest and shared her attention and presence with everyone when he increasingly found he wanted her all to himself. Phillip wanted to tell them of his plans to depart to the solitude and quietness of the estate in Wales, and his fear that Annalise would choose not to accompany him and instead stay where the society was interesting and varied and she learned new, exciting things. Even if such a place reminded her daily of how his father had taken advantage of her misfortune.
The Captain's Midwinter Bride (Holiday Novella) Page 6