Page 43 of Her Unsuitable Match

Mary’s youngest boy was only four months of age and sound asleep in his uncle’s arms. “How is it,” Myles mused, looking down at the tiny eyelashes of the baby, “that we all start so small?”

“It is part of God’s grand design.” Winston crossed one leg over the other. He was a larger man than Myles, with a chest like a barrel, and an infectious grin. “We all begin helpless. We depend on others for comfort, protection, and knowledge. Much as God would have us become as little children, to humble ourselves and trust him to care for us, as children must trust their mortal parents.”

Somehow, Winston could speak of such things without sounding like he stood at a pulpit. He made the sacred sound familiar rather than forced. Something that Myles had always admired about his older brother.

“I suppose having children of one’s own is meant to keep that lesson at the forefront of our minds.” Myles settled comfortably in his place. “How many children do you have? I have lost count. Two dozen, at least.”

“Five,” Winston corrected with a smirk. “And one additional child due before Autumn.”

Myles’s eyebrows lifted. “Congratulations to you and Laurel. More so to her, since she is doing all the work.”

Chuckling, Winston offered a shrug in response. “I am well aware that I do not deserve her. I think that is another part of God’s plan, at least for me. He sent me an angel of a wife so I am forever working to be worthy of her.” The vicar folded his arms over his broad chest and nodded to the baby in Myles’s arms. “You have always been fond of children. I imagine you are hoping it will not be long until you have your own.”

It was the first time anyone had mentioned the expectation of children to him. And he had only briefly spoken to Philippa of his hopes for a family. Myles took care in avoiding his brother’s eyes as he spoke a half truth. “I had forgotten what it is like to have children filling all the nooks and crannies of a house.”

Though he told himself he avoided his family to avoid pity, the matter went deeper than that. Every time he returned to his childhood home, his memories of growing up in a family full of love and hope—and a fair amount of fun—had proven bittersweet. Because he’d never create such a home of his own. Not on his low income. Not as broken as he’d become.

Now, hope tugged painfully at his heart.

He envisioned all too easily how it would be, to sit with his arm around Philippa while they watched children with her dark curls and blue eyes playing on the rug before the hearth, a baby in her arms.

But not yet. Maybe not ever. Philippa had waited all her life for the ability to come and go as she pleased. Having children would complicate that for her. And as much as he longed for his vision to become reality, Myles recognized that her happiness was much more important to him than…well…anything.

Winston’s voice, though pitched low and quiet, pulled Myles away from his musings. “The number of thoughts I’ve seen play across your face in the last five minutes is rather impressive.” His expression had changed, too. From content to curious. “Is there anything you wish to talk about?”

Myles shook his head, aware his smile would reassure no one given how weak it felt upon his face. “Not presently.”

“Hm.” Winston studied Myles for a moment and appeared on the verge of asking another pointed question when Mary came back into the room. She appeared rather out of sorts.

“What are you two still doing in here?” she asked, somewhat accusingly. “Get upstairs and dress for dinner. Family we might be, but we certainly aren’t heathens without manners.”

“That isn’t what heathen means,” Winston corrected with a grin.

Their sister glowered at him. “Do you know what delinquent means? Because your wife will make certain you do, if you aren’t upstairs and dressed in the next quarter of an hour.” She gently took her baby from Myles. “As for you, my littlest brother—”

Myles protested in a whisper as the baby shifted from his arms to hers. “I’m taller than you by a foot!”

“Hush. You know quite well what I mean.” She tucked her sleeping child against her breast. “We are all trying to make a good impression on your Lady Philippa. The least you can do is pretend our mother raised you with good manners.” Affectionately exasperated, she cast them both a superior glance and left the room.

Winston stood the moment she was gone. “As I am well aware how my wife feels about having a delinquent husband, I had better be on my way. I advise you to do the same.” He winked and left Myles alone in the room.

The mantel clock revealed that they had half an hour before dinner. Philippa had been in their room this whole time. Though he couldn’t be certain if she was resting or avoiding his family. Or, perhaps, avoiding him now that their sleeping arrangements were decidedly not what either had expected.

Regardless of her reasons, Myles had no choice but to go up to their shared room. He had to dress for dinner. And he and his wife needed to talk.

By the time he stood before their bedroom door, Myles had a plan in mind. So, he knocked softly and waited for a response. The knock carried through the corridor more loudly than he wished, but Philippa’s maid opened the door a mere second after.

“It’s Mr. Cobbett, my lady,” the girl said, hardly opening the door more than a crack. The little gatekeeper’s stern frown made him smile, which made her frown even more.

Philippa’s clear voice carried through the room to him. “Let him in, please. And you are dismissed for the evening.”

The maid opened the door fully, curtsied to him, then stepped into the hall. She closed the door behind her with a quiet snap, leaving Myles and Philippa in the room alone. And there she stood, his elegant wife, dressed in a gown he had seen her wear once before, when her brother had entertained several minor lords at his dinner table. She had pearls in her ears and around her throat. A spray of white silk roses in her hair, too.

She looked every inch a lady, from her dark curls to the fine blue silk slippers upon her feet.

Myles gulped. It was that, or choke on his attraction to his wife. Her beauty drew him a step closer, but the flash of alarm in her eyes froze him once more. Though she held herself with the confidence of one born in her position, she’d found herself in an unwanted situation.

“We are sharing this room,” she said, bringing her hands up to her stomach to lace her fingers together. “So I take it that your family does not know about the unique arrangement we’ve made.”