Regency Surrender: Debts Reclaimed: A Debt Paid in Marriage / A Too Convenient Marriage

Philip stepped outside into the shadows of the eaves, watching Thomas without the boy noticing. Thomas hurried around the fountain on unsteady legs, clapping and laughing whenever Mrs Marston surprised him. It touched him to see his son so happy. Philip had forgotten what joy was like.

He looked in the direction of Laura’s room, but the portico roof obscured the view. Justin was right, Philip needed Laura to temper him and she possessed the will to do it. He might have misjudged her strength today, but he didn’t doubt its existence. When she felt safe, when her life settled into a steady rhythm, she’d find her feet again and he was sure to witness more moments of strength. He looked forward to them.

What he didn’t look forward to were the deeper implications of her presence.

In the past year, he’d closed his heart to almost everyone except Thomas and Jane. He wasn’t about to open it again and allow anyone to see the hardness which had grown there, or to leave himself vulnerable to having it crushed again. It would be a difficult thing to manage, but he had no choice. There could be no relationship between them without friendship or the most basic of understandings, but he couldn’t allow Laura’s sweetness to lull him into forgetting the wrenching torment that caring too much for someone could cause. Laura demanded his respect and affection and he would give it, but he would not surrender his heart. He couldn’t.

* * *

Mother handed Laura her old threadbare handkerchief.

‘I’m surprised you still have this old thing, what with Mr Rathbone providing us with all our needs.’ Laura rubbed her wet cheeks, widening the hole in the centre of the ragged linen.

‘My dear, Mr Rathbone is an excellent organiser, but even he is not capable of remembering everything, much less such a small detail like a new handkerchief.’ She smoothed Laura’s hair off her face, then caressed her damp cheek.

‘At least this isn’t his like everything else, like I will be.’ Laura leaned back against the wall, worn out from crying. ‘It’s like being with Uncle Robert again and us helpless to do anything.’

‘Mr Rathbone is nothing like Robert,’ Mother gently corrected. ‘He’s willing to share what he has with us and to make you a partner in his life. It speaks to his generosity. And you aren’t helpless.’

‘Aren’t I?’ She was a woman with no money, no prospects and almost no family. A proposal from a moneylender was the best she could hope for, even if it made her feel like a purchased bolt of silk. Laura crumpled the damp handkerchief, then threw it to the floor, ashamed again of her foolishness. Better to be a man’s wife than to sink to becoming a whore. ‘I’m sorry I lost my head.’

‘I’m surprised you haven’t done it sooner.’ She slid her arm around Laura’s waist and drew her up from the bed. ‘No one can keep their chin up all the time, not even you.’

Her mother guided her to one of the two stuffed chairs in front of the window, Laura leaning as much for support on her mother as her mother leaned on her. Outside, Thomas’s happy laughter carried up from the garden. Through the window, Laura caught sight of his cranberry-coloured skeleton suit darting back and forth between the boxwoods as Mrs Marston chased him.

‘Now rest.’ Mother pressed her down into the chair. ‘I think you need it more than me.’

Laura gladly sank against the well-padded back with a sigh, so weary from everything. ‘I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can go through with the wedding.’

Yesterday, when standing in the middle of the mouldering room in her worn-out gown, it’d been too easy to accept Philip and the life he offered. Today, it seemed too hard. She wasn’t certain she could spend her life without love. It seemed a silly, girlish thing to hold on to when everything else was being laid at her feet, but she couldn’t let it go. However, if she rejected Philip, she’d be giving up the comfort and safety of his home, along with her mother’s health. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so selfish. Only, I never thought it would all turn out like this. I thought we could save the shop, I believed it until the end. I was wrong.’

‘You’re not selfish, Laura. You’ve taken on so much over the past year, things you never should have had to deal with. Now you’ve taken on this. It’s unfair and I wish I could have done more to help you realise some of the dreams you believe are ending with this betrothal. But, Laura, I never would have allowed you to accept Mr Rathbone’s proposal if I didn’t believe he was a good man.’

‘Why? What did he tell you yesterday?’ Everyone seemed to believe in him. Why couldn’t she?

‘He was very honest with me and told me of losing his wife and his hopes for Jane and Thomas. It was like hearing myself speak of you and how it felt to lose your father. Look at him,’ she entreated, gently turning Laura’s face to the window. From the shadows of the house, Philip emerged into the sun. Light shone in the streaks of red in his dark hair and seemed to widen over the light-coloured coat. He approached Thomas, not with the purpose he’d shown last night, but more slowly, as though weighed down by grief. He knelt and threw open his arms to embrace his giggling son, burying his face in the boy’s neck as if he were afraid of losing him. ‘He’s hurting, Laura, but he isn’t without love.’

Jane came out from the house, snapped a rose off one slender branch and tapped her brother on the shoulder. He stood and steadied Thomas on his slender hip as Jane held up the flower to the boy’s button nose.

‘You can see it in how much he loves his child and Jane. For all the girl’s peculiarities, when I speak with her, it’s obvious she knows he cares for her.’

Laura remembered the juvenile kiss Philip had received from Jane last night.

‘Yes, he loves her, but what am I to him? A contract? A convenient solution to myriad problems?’

‘If he truly wanted an easy solution, he would have hired another nurse and expanded Mrs Palmer’s responsibilities. He asked you to marry him because he saw something in you, something he isn’t completely aware of himself. It’s as if, deep down, he feels you can help him.’

‘He doesn’t want help. He wants someone to run his house and warm his bed.’

Her mother’s shoulders rose with a sigh as they watched Philip set Thomas on the ground. He took one of the boy’s hands and Jane took the other and together they led the child to the far wall where a lion-headed fountain spat water into an urn.

‘When I lost your older brother, I was heartbroken. I threw myself into the shop, working to near exhaustion to try to dull my grief. No matter how much I tried to bury myself, your father never gave up on me.’ She gazed serenely down on the garden, but sorrow laced her words, as palpable as Philip’s grief had been when he’d first mentioned his late wife. ‘Then one day, the darkness lifted and your father was still there, as loving as ever. Soon you were there, too, and I was happy again.’

Mother slid her hand beneath Laura’s and gave it a squeeze. ‘Mr Rathbone needs you. I know it’s difficult to see right now, but if you’re stubborn and refuse to give up on him, you’ll capture as deep an affection as he shows to all he loves. I know it.’

Laura studied her mother’s long fingers, thinking of Philip’s hand in hers last night and the faint connection it’d created between them. She’d experienced it again when he’d apologised this morning, only that time it was him, not her, asking for something deeper. Both moments had been as fragile as fine silk thread. How could she possibly grab hold of something so delicate and make it strong enough to hold them both together?

‘I don’t even know where to begin.’ She waved her hands over her dress, herself. ‘I’m hardly going to arouse a grand passion in him.’

‘I don’t think Mr Rathbone is the sort of man easily ensnared by superficial things like dresses.’ Mother’s lips drew up in one corner with a mischievous smile. ‘Though a finely turned-out figure doesn’t hurt where men are concerned.’

‘It will be easier to dress myself than it will be to figure out how to catch his fancy.’ She knew almost nothing about gaining a gentleman’s attention, especially such a stern gentleman.

‘Follow your instincts, Laura. They’ll guide you well.’

Philip looked up at the window, suddenly meeting Laura’s eyes. He didn’t turn away or nod, or do anything except study her as he had from the copper tub. She stroked her chin with her thumb and forefinger, almost able to feel Philip’s hand on it. If there was one thing she knew to be true of Philip, it was his adherence to the contracts he made. When they stood before the vicar and uttered the vows, he’d be bound by what he said to her, what he stated before all his friends. It would be up to her to see he did more than simply uphold his promise.

‘It won’t be easy.’ He’d fight like a dog to guard the wounded part of himself, but Laura had faced worse battles over the past year and in her own way won them, keeping a roof over her and her mother’s heads, even staring down her uncle Robert on more than one occasion.

‘Nothing worth having is ever easy.’

Laura nodded in silent agreement. No matter what she might wish for or think she wanted, the truth was, her future lay with Philip. If she hoped to have even a small portion of the life she’d once imagined for herself, a life of love with a true partner in the business and her bed, then she must find a way into Philip’s heart.

Chapter Five (#u9d866314-f6cd-5fc0-8fa8-80832882d145)

Mrs Fairley fastened the last button and Laura turned to face the full-length mirror in the modiste’s fitting room, moving slowly so as not to tumble off the small fitting stool. She sucked in a surprised breath at the reflection which greeted her. After a year in tatty black, the light-green muslin dress Mrs Fairley had chosen to alter first was a stunning change. Laura pulled out the skirt, then shifted from side to side to watch the material move. With the swish of the fabric, she caught a little of the excitement of that Christmas morning when her parents had given her a yellow silk dress, her first adult one. For a week afterwards, she’d crept down to the shop mirror at night to admire it.

The excitement of the memory faded and she let the skirt go. The silk dress had been one of the first things she’d sold to pay for the meagre rooms in Seven Dials. More than once while walking through Petticoat Lane with the rest of her dwindling wardrobe, she’d wondered which lady’s maid or shop girl wore it now.

‘It suits you as if it were made for you.’ Mrs Fairley came to stand beside her, a box of pins in one hand. She nodded with approval at Laura’s reflection. ‘Brings out the green in your eyes.’

Her eyes weren’t the only part of her the dress emphasised. The bodice was cut deeper than any she’d ever worn before, exposing the tops of her breasts which rested higher on her chest thanks to the temporary new stays Mrs Fairley had secured for her. It was by no means immodest, but Laura wasn’t accustomed to it.

On the chaise next to the mirror lay the other dresses Mrs Fairley was to alter. They would keep Laura respectably clothed while Mrs Fairley prepared the rest of the new wardrobe in accordance with Philip’s list. The sheer number of garments he’d requested was staggering. It didn’t even include the gloves, fans, stockings and various other small items he’d sent instructions to other merchants to secure.

‘Do I really need so many dresses?’ Laura questioned as Mrs Fairley leaned down to begin pinning the hem.

‘If Mr Rathbone says you need them, then I suppose you must.’

Laura tugged up the low bodice again. Even when the draper shop had been a success, her father hadn’t spent like this on clothing, not even for his wife. Her father had insisted his family dress well, but simply, and with as few items as they could make do with. He’d believed in selling material, not spending their profits on it. ‘I’m not usually so extravagant with my wardrobe.’

‘Neither is Mr Rathbone. He never lets Miss Jane indulge in this manner, though she tries.’ She slid a sly look up at Laura. ‘He must have quite a fancy for you to be so generous.’

‘I suppose he must.’ Laura fingered the side of the gown, wishing she were a better liar.

‘You don’t sound so sure.’

‘I am, I mean he does. I’m sorry, there’s a great deal on my mind right now.’