Page 39 of Her Unsuitable Match

“One of your brother’s contacts in preparing the military hospital is the Royal Navy physician. Sir Gilbert Blane. Have you heard of him?”

It took her a moment to place the name. Then she nodded with some excitement. “He is one of the Royal Family’s physicians. I have heard of him.”

Myles leaned back in his chair and turned again to the fire. “He regularly tours the hospitals of the Royal Navy. One of the letters he sent your brother, about the hospital, suggested that a lunatic asylum would better serve the military. Most asylums in England hold dozens of former naval men apiece, you know.”

“I didn’t know,” she whispered. “A lunatic asylum? How is that helpful to one such as you? You are not mad. Only conversely affected by your memories.”

A gentle smile touched his lips before turning bitter. “For some, it is one and the same. Sir Gilbert has proposed that the best way to manage men with such difficulty isn’t to offer any treatment that would allow them back into the world, but he encourages that they become long-term residents of asylums and hospitals. And he has said that a strict schedule, something that encourages a man to maintain order in his life and around him, is the most beneficial thing. He suggested the hospital—or asylum—have extensive gardens for which the inmates will be responsible.”

“Gardens.” Pippa studied her husband. “I take it you are not much of a gardener.”

Myles released a mirthless laugh, shoving his left hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. “No. I am not a gardener.”

“Why do you leave the house every day?” she asked softly. “Is it worse for you, to be here?”

His expression changed again, his chin lowered while he looked up at her. “After we wed, I grew restless. I had more…vivid, shall we say, nightmares. I thought the answer would be to return to my old routine. Walking the city. Eating breakfast in a quiet cafe. Attending a club to read or engage in a boxing match.”

“But those things did not help,” she mused, tapping the arm of her chair. “Or perhaps they have, and things would be worse if you had not returned to your former schedule.” She stood and paced away from the fire, then back.

She had chosen Myles to wed based on his humble background, and his honorable behavior. Learning about his circumstances, how he lived with so little, had made her feel as though marrying would be a boon to him, too. Something which would improve his life. Yet she had put him into situations that disturbed his peace of mind.

The life of a London gentleman was likely just as uncomfortable for Myles as the life of a gardener would be. And yet he had agreed to it, because she had asked. Because he wanted to help her and do a kindness for his family and others. Myles had sacrificed to marry her.

Guilt smote her heart, and Pippa leaned her forehead against the mantel. Peering into the flames. “I wish I had known before,” she murmured softly. She might have done more for him. Instead, all she had worried over was the lack of invitations she’d received for balls and evenings of entertainment. Pining after crowds of people and diversion while her husband suffered nightmares.

And none of the people who made up those crowds even wanted her around. Not at present, while suspicion and scandal still clung to her reputation. With her own brother and mother determined to punish her for her independence.

Myles stood, and she turned to face him, ready to offer up more reassurances. But his expression stopped her words. He appeared utterly defeated, his shoulders slumped, and the corners of his mouth turned down.

“I should have told you before we spoke of contracts and marriage. You didn’t know what you were getting in a husband at all, did you?”

“That isn’t quite what I meant.” She tried to smile, but he was already shaking his head.

“I had best retire for the night and leave you to your rest. We both know, I sorely need to take my own. I have no wish to embarrass you in public again.” He turned away before she could reach out to him, and he was already at the door when she finally forced out her words.

“Myles, you didn’t—”

“Goodnight, my lady.” He opened the door and left, closing it behind him with quiet finality.

Pippa started across the room, thinking that she must speak to him to clarify things. But she stopped when she reached the door and leaned against it heavily. What could she say to him?

Fourteen

I wish I had known before.

Myles couldn’t rid himself of Philippa’s words. Had he deceived her when he signed the marital agreement? It had never occurred to him the need to disclose his nightmares to her. Yet now, marriage joined them to one another, and all the consequences of her actions were his, and the all consequences of his choices were also hers.

“I think we had better consider a location outside of London, if we intend to build something new.” Adam Gillensford shuffled through several papers on his desk. Each one described a London property or land for sale. He jotted down figures and square footages of each location. “It wouldn’t be terrible to have more land, for gardens and such. Especially if we could provide our hospital kitchen with its own produce.”

The study wasn’t large, but there were two desks within. Myles had found the furniture arrangement strange until he happened upon Elaine and Adam working in the room at the same time. She wrote business correspondence and had a hand in each of their ventures. Their partnership in marriage was a fascinating study. He’d never heard of anything quite like it.

Myles picked up a list of properties outside of London that the solicitor had provided to Gillensford. “Land would provide a greater ability to build something according to our unique specifications, too. But then you run a small risk, given that you’ll have less oversight if the location is far from your London and country addresses.”

“Agreed. And I know of nothing in our county that would suit. Though I suppose I would need to contact someone more familiar with property in that area.” Gillensford started stacking papers, a sign that he was finished for the afternoon. “Enough with business. We have talked of nothing else these last two hours.”

Before Myles could stand to leave, or offer up a new topic of conversation, Gillensford said, “How is my sister?”

A difficult question to answer at present. “We all live in the same household,” Myles said, somewhat confused. “You know as well as I do, I should think. I have not seen her since last evening.” He had carefully avoided the rooms in the house where the women spent most of their time. He had broken his fast in his room and taken tea in the study.