Regency Surrender: Debts Reclaimed. Georgie Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ softened his blue eyes. He was sorry, genuinely so, with no trace of the false, self-serving contrition her uncle used to offer her father. The same faint bond which had slipped between them last night encircled them again. Philip cared for her and wanted her to be happy. The realisation drained the anger from her, but it couldn’t erase the hurt, worries, helplessness and humiliations she’d suffered so many times. They pressed down on her and not even Philip’s reassuring touch could drive them away.

      ‘I invited you here because you’re too strong to be bullied by such a man,’ Philip explained.

      ‘I wish I was.’ She rocked back on her heels and away from his fingers, then fled the room.

      The hall and stairway blurred as her eyes filled with tears. They streaked steadily down her cheeks as she made for her mother’s room and pushed open the door without knocking. Thankfully, Jane wasn’t with her. Her mother looked up from the chair by the window, her smile vanishing at the sight of Laura’s expression. Without a word, she held out her arms and Laura flung herself into them, burying her face in her chest to cry.

      * * *

      Philip lowered his hand, the warmth of Laura’s skin still lingering on his fingertips. It didn’t dispel the cold sitting hard in his chest. None of the insults hurled at him by any defaulting client had pierced him as hard as the realisation he’d allowed a client to hurt someone in his care.

      He dragged the last few contracts out from under the desk and shoved them down on top of the pile on the floor. He should have followed his instincts and waited to introduce her to someone like Mr Williams. Instead, he’d dismissed his doubts and convinced himself she was fit to face the ugly man. He should have known better. She was strong, but she’d suffered a great deal and, like him, needed time. It was a mistake, one he should have known better than to make.

      ‘I said you didn’t understand the terms of the contract and I was right.’ Justin slid into the room and settled into his favourite chair by the cold fireplace. ‘You can’t treat her like a client.’

      Philip hauled himself and the contracts off the floor. ‘It was never my intention to.’

      ‘Yes, it was.’ He reached over to the side table next to him and plucked a crystal glass and decanter of Scotch from it. ‘Thankfully, she’s no shrinking violet which is good if she’s going to marry you.’

      ‘Perhaps I was short-sighted in my assumptions about our arrangement.’ And its simplicity. Justin was right, it wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d first believed. ‘Assuming, after this morning, our agreement still stands.’

      ‘Oh, don’t worry, she’ll marry you.’ Justin poured out a measure of Scotch, then returned the decanter to the table. ‘Now you must ask yourself, why do you really want to marry her? And I want the real reason, not your drivel about needing a housekeeper.’

      Philip traced the scratch in the floor with his boot. The memory of Laura scrambling about for the papers, as lost and frightened as he’d been the morning Arabella had died, tore at him. That cold morning, he’d come to this room and nearly ripped it all to pieces, gouging the floorboards in a fruitless effort to overturn the desk. If Justin hadn’t found him, he might have destroyed the room and himself.

      ‘I lost something when Arabella died; it was as if I buried my humanity with her.’ Every day he felt the hardness creeping in where warmth and happiness used to be. It hurt to admit it, even to his closest friend. ‘My father always said it was the one thing we must hold on to in this business because it’s too easy to lose, as evidenced by so many others in our profession.’

      ‘You’ve hardly become like them. You never will.’

      ‘I’m not so sure.’ After Arabella’s death, Philip had shut himself off from his emotions just to move through the day without crumbling. As time passed it was growing more difficult to draw them out again.

      ‘You think Miss Townsend can help you reclaim your humanity?’

      Philip didn’t respond, but studied the snaking scratch marking the wood. When the workmen had repaired the room, he’d refused to let them sand it away. It was a reminder of his loss of control. Something he’d never let happen again. ‘Miss Townsend and Mrs Townsend’s influence will do Jane good. I heard her laugh with Miss Townsend earlier.’

      ‘It’s about time.’ Justin swirled the last sip of his Scotch before downing it. ‘She’s too serious for a girl her age.’

      Philip strode to the table and plucked up a glass. ‘I’m to blame.’

      ‘Hardly. Seriousness is a family trait. Your mother was the only one who could enjoy a good joke.’

      ‘She tempered my father.’ He removed the crystal stopper from the decanter and rolled it in his palm. ‘I worry how my nature might affect Thomas.’

      Thomas’s happy squeal carried in from outside. Philip set the glass and stopper down and went to the French doors leading to the garden. He opened them and inhaled the pungent scent of roses and earth fighting with the thicker stench of horses and smoke from the streets beyond. ‘Arabella should have had time with Thomas. She should have seen him grow.’

      ‘But that’s not the way it happened,’ Justin gently reminded him.

      No, it wasn’t. The finality of it was too much like standing at Arabella’s grave again, the sun too bright off the green grass surrounding the dim hole in the earth.

      Thomas toddled around a square half-pillar supporting an urn. He peeked out from one side of it, and then the other, squealing with laughter as Mrs Marston met him with a playful boo. The sun caught his light hair, making the subtle orange strands shine the way Arabella’s used to whenever she’d strolled here.

      Philip had used to look up from his accounts to watch her, wanting to join her, but he’d dismissed the urge in favour of the many other things commanding his attention. If he’d known their days together were limited, he would have tossed aside his work and rushed to be with her. If he’d known their love would kill her, he never would have opened his heart to her in Dr Hale’s sitting room.

      A dull ache settled in behind his eyes, heightened by the bright day. There’d never been a choice between loving or not loving Arabella. He’d loved her from the first moment she’d entered his office looking as unsure as Laura had today. During the first days of their courtship there’d been an unspoken accord between them, as if they understood one another without ever having to speak.

      When Laura had reached out to him last night, and when he’d touched her today, something of the understanding and comfort that had so long been missing had passed between them and shaken him to the core.

      ‘Miss Townsend’s presence will benefit Thomas,’ Philip observed, pulling himself off the unsettling road his thoughts were travelling. His relationship with Laura was nothing like his relationship with Arabella.

      ‘Her presence will benefit you, too.’ Justin came to his side and cocked a knowing eyebrow at him. ‘Often and quite pleasurably.’

      If he wasn’t Philip’s greatest friend, he would have dismissed him. ‘Your experience with women has muddled your impression of relationships.’

      ‘Actually, it’s heightened them, which is why I can see matters with Miss Townsend so clearly and you cannot.’ He СКАЧАТЬ