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

churchyard as Chesterton swung the door shut.

      ‘Is there something you need, sir?’ he asked when Philip didn’t walk away.

      ‘No.’

      When Chesterton left, Philip didn’t move or return to the sitting room. He stared at the carved panels of the door, struggling to push back the guilt threatening to crush him. Dr Hale was right, Philip needed to think of the future, but all he could see was that cold morning cloaked in misery and devastating grief.

      ‘He’s a very nice man.’ Laura’s voice filled the hall from behind him.

      ‘I should have told him sooner. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.’ He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth. Laura’s opinion of him mattered, especially while his own was so low. He’d been a coward and now both she and Dr Hale knew it.

      She came to stand beside him and slid her hand into his, twining their fingers together. The gentle grip steadied his desire to stride out of the house and follow the pavement until the hole inside him engulfed all of London.

      ‘My mother told me once that sometimes, after I was born, she would think of my dead brother and feel guilty for being happy with me,’ Laura gently offered. ‘She loved him very much, she still does, but at times it felt as if letting go of him was wrong.’

      Something inside Philip cracked and he tightened his hand in hers. The words rose up inside him, despite every effort to stifle them. She understood and he wanted her to know.

      ‘She wasn’t like you, healthy and strong. When she wanted a child, I refused, but in the end I couldn’t deny her and it killed her.’

      Laura laid her hand on his cheek and turned his face to hers. ‘It’s not your fault, Philip. It’s no one’s fault when people get sick and die.’

      ‘It was my fault. I should have known better. I should have kept her safe and I failed.’ He let go of her hand and leaned away from her palm as the hardness rushed back in to surround his heart. He hadn’t wanted her to know his gravest mistake. Now she did and he couldn’t stand it. ‘I have business to see to.’

      He made for his office, ashamed of himself and his past.

      * * *

      Laura didn’t follow, recognising the grief pulling Philip inside himself. If she tried to draw him out now, he’d only push her away. All she could do was wait until he was ready to reveal more. Then she would listen and help him as best she could, assuming he ever placed as much faith in her as he had in Arabella.

      She wandered back into the sitting room and lifted Thomas’s discarded book from the chair. Until Dr Hale’s arrival, she’d failed to realise how tight a hold the past still had on Philip. It was stronger than any power Laura possessed or could hope to forge in so short an amount of time.

      Closing the book, she clutched it to her chest. In a few days, Philip’s claim over her had tightened. It wasn’t just the food, clothes and his house, it was him and his unwavering presence. She needed him as much as he needed her. Yet tonight he’d strode away from her help and she worried he always would. Then some day, she might take to her bed, focusing on every ailment as she grew old with a man who’d never regard her as more than part of a contract, a deal.

      She quit the room, heading upstairs to see to the numerous packages which had arrived today from the glover and the stocking maker. Becoming an invalid like one of Dr Hale’s patients wasn’t her future. Philip might withdraw from her today, but she wouldn’t give up on him, or their life together.

      * * *

      The clock on Philip’s bedroom desk chimed nine times. The rain outside had been falling steadily for over an hour, striking the portico below. He barely heard it as he flipped through the papers again, searching the endless paragraphs of agreements and ship’s inventory. Everything seemed in order, but experience told Philip something about this deal wasn’t right.

      ‘Is everything well with you?’

      Philip looked up to see Laura lingering warily in the doorway, her white cotton day dress replaced by one of lemon-yellow silk. It sat snug against her breasts and shoulders, flowing out to cover her hips and sweep the tops of her white slippers.

      He set down his papers, cautious of her presence. It’d taken hours of correspondence, accounts and a meeting with Justin to settle him. It might only take a moment with Laura to undo it all. He rose and splayed his fingers on the desk as if to balance himself against any lingering anxiety, but it never came. Instead, something in him softened with her appearance, as if it’d been too long since he’d last seen her and he’d missed her company.

      ‘A potential client has me perplexed.’ He waved her into the room.

      A small sigh of relief escaped her as she approached his desk. He couldn’t blame her for being wary. He’d fled from her in the entrance hall like a frightened debtor from the constable, then sent his excuses for missing dinner. It wasn’t Philip’s best moment. He’d enjoyed a number of poor moments since Laura’s arrival, but she wasn’t to blame. The fault was with him. ‘The man intends to import a special silk from India. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t lend him the money.’

      ‘But instinct is warning you off the matter.’

      ‘I need more than instinct. I need proof.’

      ‘Why? It’s your money to lend or not. Simply tell him you can’t give him what he wants, the way you told me.’ She cocked her head at the bathtub visible through the open dressing-room door.

      He rewarded her slight teasing with the smallest of grins. She noted it with a subtle rise of her eyebrows. ‘It may be that simple, but I prefer to make decisions based on evidence, not suspicion.’

      ‘Perhaps I can help you?’

      ‘If you’d like.’ He handed her the papers. ‘Read these and see if anything strikes you as odd.’

      She sat in one of the upholstered wingbacks flanking the window and set the documents on her lap to review. Beneath the parchment, the yellow silk flowed over her long legs, brushing the slender ankles crossed beneath the chair. Philip tried not to stare as he settled in the chair across from hers. He was glad his actions in the entrance hall this evening hadn’t made her shy with him. It spoke to her courage and her concern, something he found endearing and as unsettling as his desire to watch her.