Page 41 of Her Unsuitable Match

If he could spend time there, even so short as a week, that might fortify him well enough to continue through the rest of the Season.

His wife tipped her head back, staring upward at the ceiling as she hummed a thoughtful note.

“Your family home is in Bedfordshire, is it not?” Philippa actually appeared to consider his suggestion. “Kempston.” They had spoken little about his family, though she had received all that information from his solicitor.

“Green End, to be precise,” he said, observing her with growing curiosity. “Fifty miles from London.” That piece of information might change her interested expression to one of alarm.

Except it didn’t.

“That sounds lovely.” Philippa leaned away from the wall, her posture perfect once more. “When would you like to depart for Green End? What is the name of your father’s estate?”

“You truly wish to visit my family?” He straightened away from the wall, too. “Ambleside. My father’s estate is Ambleside.”

Philippa nodded, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “If you believe a strategic retreat is in order, I will bow to your superior battle experience. And what better place to go than to your family? I should like to meet them.”

“My father is only a very minor baron,” he reminded her. Then he thought to offer a warning. “Their home isn’t as grand as what you are used to, I would wager.”

Waving her hand dismissively, Philippa assured him, “I haven’t any expectations on that account. Though I imagine your mother is a lovely person, given what I know about her youngest son.”

“Though I am not an impartial party, I have always thought her one of the best women on earth.” His hand went to the door handle again, though with reluctance this time. “I will write my family at once. We could leave whenever you wish. If you truly want to make that journey.”

“I do. Stop trying to dissuade me.” Her smile sparkled, and she took one step toward him. “We should give the letter time to arrive before we do, I suppose. Do you think three days from now is enough?”

Three days? How could she seem so eager to leave London, when he’d been certain she would never entertain the idea of exiting the social wilds for the country? Yet here he stood, not having had to do much to convince her at all—

He’d been quiet too long. She spoke with less certainty, and a lower voice. “Unless you do not think that is enough time for your family to prepare?”

And suddenly, he was the one reassuring her. Speaking gently. Hoping that the smile he offered, as strange as it must look on his scarred face, was calming. “Considering how much my mother wishes to meet you, I think it is more than enough time.”

Philippa appeared relieved. Then she bestowed another charming smile upon him. “I had better leave you to your letter writing, then.” She took a step away, still facing him. “Thank you, Myles. For inviting me.”

Then she turned and walked away, each step graceful and light. For a moment, Myles felt nothing but admiration for the woman he had married. As well as the creeping realization that he was not at all good enough for her. The third son of a baron. A broken man. And she, the daughter of an earl, the very picture of beauty.

He entered his room and pushed his hand through his hair, leaning heavily against the door. What would she make of his family? What would they think of her?

Adam Gillensford wasn’t the sort of man to gloat, but when he and his wife learned of Myles and Philippa’s plans, they would likely feel as though they had accomplished some kind of victory. But Myles knew well enough that a visit to Ambleside, while pleasant, wasn’t likely to change Philippa’s mind about Society or their marriage.

As he sat to write his mother, Myles reassured himself aloud, “All I need is enough time to shore up my defenses.” That was all he allowed himself to hope for.

Fifteen

The exceptionally mild weather meant a peaceful journey from London to Kempston. Philippa had entrusted her brother with hiring a private coach to take them all that way, changing out horses as needed to decrease the time spent on the road. Myles knew the route they took well enough that they only stopped at the highest of quality inns along the three-day journey.

Pippa’s maid traveled with them, ostensibly reading a book. Myles had yet to find a proper valet, so the maid was the only servant with them. The hours of time in the carriage were not so awkward as Pippa had thought they might be. Rather than sit in silence, Myles took the time to tell her about his family’s history.

His father was only the second baron of his title, and the barony hadn’t come with much land or income. It had been bestowed on Myles’s grandfather as a small favor rather than a grand gesture of gratitude.

As the fields and woodlands of the countryside drifted by her window, Pippa soaked in all she could about her in-laws.

That small favor had made the first Baron Greenwood, George Greenwood, a lord. Which opened doors for the family and allowed them entry into a world that they didn’t quite belong to. Myles’s parents, Matthew and Elizabeth Cobbett, Lord and Lady Greenwood, hadn’t cared overmuch about titles or London. They were happy to stay in their middling-sized village with their six children, content with the world and all that was in it.

“Tell me about your brothers and sisters,” Philippa said. With three older brothers and an older sister of her own, she had an idea of how a family of such a size would run. Except Myles seemed inordinately fond of his siblings, while she only felt such closeness toward the brother nearest her in age.

“There is George, named after the first baron, and Winston. We called him Winnie, most of our growing up, which he despised. Then my sister Mary. I came fourth. A few years after, my sister Margaret came along. Then finally, Elenor.”

He sketched the layout of the house for her, writing the name of each room within its box. The house was, as he said, small for a member of the nobility. Minor though they were. Growing up, Myles had shared a room with his second-oldest brother, while the eldest had a smaller room of his own. The sisters had shared rooms similarly. Which meant the family had six bedrooms, but never room for visitors without displacing a member of the family.

“With only my youngest sisters and parents at home, I am certain now they have more rooms than they know how to use,” Myles said with a grin.