Page 34 of Her Unsuitable Match

When Moreton only stared at him in silence, a disapproving squint to his eyes, Myles dropped the paper on a table and bent toward his friend. “What do you want me to say? I have spent the last several days hardly stirring from that house. And while it is a house with great luxuries, there is also little for me to do. Except be measured by tailors, dress for parties, and appear perfectly content whenever I am in the same room as someone else.”

Moreton laced his fingers together and adopted a professional tone. “All in all, not an unpleasant existence. Especially as you have a lovely wife to keep you company from time to time.”

“My wife has other occupations. She is enjoying her freedom for the first time since she made her debut in Society.” And Myles didn’t begrudge her that freedom in the slightest. After meetings with Mr. Tuttle-Kirk, she had gone shopping, attended committee meetings with her sister-in-law, and today would have her first at-home day as a married woman, sharing the morning room with Elaine to great her guests.

She didn’t need her tired and frustrated husband anywhere near her to dampen her enthusiasm or intimidate her visitors. Assuming she had any visitors.

“Ah, there. A flinch. What were you thinking, just then?” Moreton moved to the edge of his seat.

“How do you do that?” Myles glared at his friend. “I said nothing.”

“Let a man sit in silence long enough, and if his speech won’t tell you something is wrong, his mannerisms will. You flinched.”

Though his exasperation was well-tempered with relief, Myles explained—in quiet tones—what had happened the night of the ball. Moreton nodded now and again, but otherwise said nothing until Myles finished the telling. Then, his friend spoke.

“What is the strategy going forward, since marriage alone hasn’t made your lady more acceptable to her peers?”

“A strategic retreat,” Myles admitted. “Attending functions without as much social distinction. For which I’m grateful. That ball was more crowded than a battlefield and stunk nearly as much.”

“Ah-ha,” Moreton murmured, a sad lift to his lips appearing. “This is coming more to the point of what is wrong with you.”

Myles picked up his paper, ready to hold it up as a barrier should his friend prod too much further. “I am merely frustrated that I am uncertain how to help the situation. That is all.”

“I can see the tension in your shoulders, Cobbett.” Moreton lowered his voice still more as he spoke. “And that weariness in your eyes. Are you sleeping well?”

“Well enough.” Myles opened the paper. “What are you doing at the club, anyway? I almost never see you here.”

“I had a meeting with a client.” Moreton let the silence hang between them again, but this time Myles kept his lips pressed shut. Finally, his friend sighed and came to his feet. “I need to return to my office. I suppose I will see you at dinner tomorrow evening.”

“I look forward to that. Good to see you, Moreton.”

The solicitor nodded once. “And you, Cobbett. Good day.” His friend took his leave. Myles waiting another quarter of an hour before doing the same. The club had not been a place of refuge as he had hoped.

* * *

Elaine’s friends left a quarter of an hour before two o’clock. Across London, women of the finest families and households closed the doors to their elegant houses, whether they had returned home from visits or showed out a final caller. Now, it was time to prepare for an outing to Hyde Park, or tea and a nap to fortify themselves for evening engagements.

But Philippa remained sitting in the same chair she had occupied all afternoon, staring across the room at a landscape depiction of gloriously green hills dotted with perfectly white sheep. Hardly a realistic rendering, but the artwork had a certain cheerfulness to it. Yet Philippa’s stare had little to do with the painting and more to do with her discontentedness.

She heard Elaine’s last caller, a banker’s wife and donor to the hospital, at the head of the stairway.

“Is your sister-in-law well?” the banker’s wife asked, sotto vocé.

Elaine answered with her usual cheer, though Philippa could well guess “I believe so. You know how it is so soon after marriage. There are a lot of changes to a young lady’s life.”

A hesitant quiet followed, and then, “You have heard what people are saying?”

“Yes, but it troubles me not at all. My sister-in-law’s only misfortune is counting the wrong people her friends, Mrs. Claridge. No one who knows Lady Philippa could credit rumors that paint her as anything other than an intelligent and compassionate woman.”

Though Philippa’s heart warmed while listening to Elaine’s defense, her stomach sunk with dread. This explained the lack of visitors coming specifically to see her. Perhaps Lady Fredericka and the earl had decided to punish Philippa’s independence by encouraging whatever the gossips had to say about her hasty marriage. And about her husband’s humble origins.

For the second day in a row, Myles had left the townhouse early in the morning. Without anyone aware of his plans. The day before, he had returned in time for dinner. She supposed it would be the same today. Considering she had invited his friends to dine with the family, she did not think he would be late.

And she didn’t begrudge him his freedom. Not when she had so newly attained her own. Though she did wonder where he went.

When Elaine returned to the room with a tired smile, Philippa rose from her chair. “Thank you for allowing me to entertain with you today, even though none of your visitors came expecting to see me.” In truth, several had seemed surprised to find Philippa in the sitting room.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself. You were quieter than usual.” Elaine smoothed a cushion on one chair, then found a shawl she had discarded earlier in the day and wrapped it around her shoulders again.