The Captain's Midwinter Bride (Holiday Novella) Read online

  After Beth took her seat at the table, Phillip pushed the food around on his plate as he debated whether to inquire after her young fiancé or the plans for the wedding. Did they plan to spend Christmas with him and Annalise? Would Mr. Newell come to make his acquaintance before he married his only daughter?

  “Silas and his mother, Mrs. Newell, have invited us all to dinner tomorrow night.” Beth paused, staring at her teacup for moment. “Would you like to attend?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

  “Of course,” he said, cringing internally at the note of exuberance in his voice. He couldn’t think of the last time a question had surprised and delighted him so.

  “That was very kind of Mrs. Newell to extend the invitation,” Annalise said.

  “They have been wanting to meet Father, and now that he’s returned, they did not want to delay securing him as a guest.” Beth quirked her mouth. “Mrs. Newell seems to believe that you will be a much-coveted guest in the weeks to come.”

  The prospect left Phillip feeling decidedly nauseated. He had attended social functions on any number of occasions as an officer, but to socialize and make vapid small talk with one’s own neighbors—and soon-to-be in-laws—was surely a special kind of misery. Not that he voiced such sentiments, of course.

  Catching Annalise’s narrowed eye, Phillip realized his expression must have betrayed some of his thoughts. Sliding a glance to his daughter, he discovered her watching him with a wary mien. Dammit.

  “I am much out of practice with socializing, but as there are no more trips calling me away to far-off places, perhaps I can reacquaint myself. I look forward to getting to know your Mr. Newell and his mother.”

  A brief but genuine smile brightened Beth’s expression before she turned her attention to her eggs. Annalise, however, raised her cup to him in her own toast, and then pretended to summon the housemaid to ask for more tea when their daughter glanced her way.

  How Phillip avoided choking on his slice of bacon, he’d never know.

  That show of humor had him contemplating his wife, and what his days would consist of now that he had retired. It occupied his thoughts long after Beth left the breakfast table, and he replayed the cheeky grin Annalise flashed at him before her face smoothed into regal placidity once again. Had he known she was such a good sport? Surely he did. He remembered the occasional laugh they shared together on his infrequent leaves, as they spoke of the children and their antics.

  He also remembered their past couplings, that were awkward and rushed when they were newlyweds, and then grew more passionate as they came to know what touches and caresses the other responded to.

  Tracing the rim around his cup, he glanced across the table at Annalise. She was adding butter to a slice of toast while her eyes skimmed over the paper opened on the table next to her. From his angle, he couldn’t tell what section had captured her attention.

  Phillip opened his mouth to ask what she was reading, but instead heard himself say, “You spoke with Beth, I see.”

  He was certain her blink of confusion matched his own.

  Patting her mouth with a napkin, Annalise considered him with a frown between her brows. “I was not pleased with the disrespect she continued to show you.”

  “She obviously believes such scorn is warranted.” Spreading his hands over his thighs under the table, he dipped his head. “I missed so much of her childhood. Beth has every right to her anger.”

  “Perhaps,” Annalise conceded. “But then I reminded her of the happy times she spent with you. The outings you treated her and Oliver to, the unending attention you gave them whenever your ship was in port, the adventures the three of you had together. Beth realized she had been unfair. The Navy may have pulled you away from her, but you always came back.”

  “The Russians did their best to see that I didn’t,” he grumbled, pushing his plate away.

  “I’m sure they did.” Annalise was quiet for a moment. “I’m pleased you will finally meet the Newells. They appear to be a good family. The children and I have known Mrs. Newell since the family moved here from London five years ago. Silas has been infatuated with Beth since he visited after his father’s untimely death.” She dropped her gaze to the table. “I must admit I have my reservations about the man.”

  Phillip leaned forward in his seat. “What sort of reservations?”

  Annalise pinched her lips together, and he wasn’t certain if she would answer.

  “I don’t believe he considers Beth a rational, thinking creature. All he sees is her pretty face, and he wants to possess it.”

  “That’s…a damning assessment,” he said, unsure of what to think of her words.

  “I feel awful saying it, but I’ve seen how she acts around him.” Annalise rapped her knuckles on the tabletop. “She’s meek and unassuming. She laughs at any supposed jest he makes, and I’ve yet to hear her disagree with him on any count. Beth is a completely different being when she’s around him, and it makes my heart heavy to see.”

  It felt like a stone had sunk in his gut. His daughter was headstrong and confident, and he would never guess that she would be willing to curb her natural tendencies for the pride of a man.

  “Have you spoken with her of your misgivings?”

  His wife nodded. “I’ve tried, but she’s horribly defensive. She’s certain she’s made a wise choice in Mr. Newell, and I don’t know how to convince her otherwise.”

  Phillip rubbed his chin. “Do you think it would help if I spoke with her about him?”

  “You haven’t even met the lad yet.” Annalise’s chestnut eyes roamed over his face. “Perhaps we shouldn’t be planning a wedding when you have not yet met the bridegroom. He hasn’t even asked for your blessing.”

  Damn. Did she suspect how much the omission bothered him? Phillip was aware it had been impossible for him to offer his blessing for the marriage when he was hundreds of miles away on the Atlantic Ocean. He knew this. And yet, any time someone mentioned the impending wedding, he gritted his teeth. His daughter was getting married, and no one had asked him for his opinion on it. After years of his opinion being the only one that mattered on a ship, the slight at home stung.

  “Since Mr. Newell has not seen it fit to call upon you, I think it would be appropriate for you to take some time to talk with him at the dinner tomorrow,” Annalise said when he did not respond. “I will endeavor to make it happen.”

  “It’s of no consequence, Mrs. Dalton,” Phillip murmured, balling his napkin and tossing it onto his empty plate.

  “But it is, Phillip.” She uttered his name—his Christian name—with a touch of steel. “It is of grave importance to me.”

  His eyes were a stunning shade of blue.

  Annalise supposed she had always known this, but she could not recall the last time she had really taken the opportunity to ponder it. When had her husband been home long enough for her to consider the beauty of his eyes?

  He seemed taken aback by her words, those vivid-colored eyes blinking rapidly. She doubted she had ever seen him so nonplussed. Lifting her teacup, Annalise took a sip, pretending she did not notice his discomfiture.

  Yet she felt anything but calm. Being across the table from him made her nervous. He was so very handsome. More so now than he had been when they first married. Time, the sun, and the tide had weathered his skin and liberally sprinkled his dark hair with grey. Yet his shoulders were just as broad, his jaw just as sharp, his lips just as sinfully full. Looking at him now made her feel as if a million tiny flames licked across her flesh, fanning brighter and hotter when he smiled at her.

  Thankfully, Phillip wasn’t one to smile. Annalise was sure she could count on one hand the amount of times he’d smiled at her. After both children were born. When she had presented him with new handkerchiefs with his initials embroidered on them. When Oliver and Beth had run into his arms after he had been at sea for the better part of a year.

  When he had entered her room the night of their wedding.

 
Memories of that night still made her blush, not from embarrassment or shame, but from gratitude. He had been so gentle with her. So tender. She had been a young woman whose father’s illness threatened to leave her alone in the world, and Phillip had been kind to her. He had married her at his father’s suggestion, and he had provided for her and their children ever since.

  Their neighbors and friends considered her a respectable wife, mother, and active member of the community. But with Phillip…well, sometimes she felt again like that frightened girl in desperate need of an ally.

  “She’s so different,” Phillip whispered, snapping Annalise from her thoughts. “She adored me when she was a young girl, and her sweet dimpled smile was sometimes all that got me through the worst stretches of my voyages. It took me by surprise when she no longer rushed to the docks to greet me when my ship arrived.”

  Annalise pursed her lips as she debated what to say. In the end, she went with honesty. “Once she started to wear her hair up, she became quarrelsome and temperamental. More times than not, I have stared at her across the breakfast table and wondered what I had done for the Almighty to give me such a petulant child.”

  Phillip stared at her, a deep V etched into his brow, before he barked out a laugh. And then another. Her confusion quickly morphed into amusement, and before she knew it, Annalise was laughing so hard, she had to hide her face in her napkin.

  After a time, Phillip sighed a great breath and leaned back, a hint of a smile still touching his lips. “I feel guilty for complaining about her treatment of me when it’s you that bore the brunt of her adolescent grievances. I can only imagine what Oliver put you through.”

  “Oliver was simply moody, especially if he was hungry.” Annalise pursed her lips. “Which was all the time.”

  “I remember being ravenous as a boy.” He met her gaze. “Still, without your loving and firm hand, Beth and Oliver would not be the upstanding young people they now are.”

  Annalise dipped her head. “It would be disingenuous to lie, but there were many nights—when the children refused to sleep, or they asked for another glass of water, or a bad dream woke them—that I cursed you. That I cursed myself for marrying a sailor who could disappear for months beyond end and return a conquering hero in the eyes of the very children who sometimes declared me a monster.”

  Clenching his eyes shut, Phillip sighed. “Annalise, I am sorry.”

  “For what?”

  His gaze snapped to hers. Hesitating for a moment, he said, “For not insisting you hire a nurse or nanny to assist you. For leaving you with two young children to care for.”

  “There was no money to hire help.”

  Phillip frowned. “Of course there was.”

  But there hadn’t been. His memory of that time must have faded under the hot sun.

  Sighing deeply, she leaned back in her chair and stared at the festive evergreens Beth had hung over the window. “Nevertheless, apologies are not necessary. Your position with the Queen’s Navy kept us warm and dry, happy and fed. Your long months at sea ensured I could eventually acquire the services of a governess. I could also hire the best tutor for Oliver and clothe Beth in fine garments.”

  She swallowed, debating whether she should divulge the entirety of her thoughts.

  He is retired now, her mind whispered to her. No longer would her husband be in Bristol for days, or maybe weeks, before setting sail once again. His home, their home on Thirteenth Street, would now house him permanently. Didn’t that warrant some honesty?

  “It’s true that there were many days I cursed you, possibly even hated you for leaving me alone with our children.” Annalise swallowed. “But in the end, I counted my blessings. You have always been kind, attentive, and hard-working. Those attributes do not warrant censure, and if they did, I would be more at fault than you could ever be.”

  Phillip winged up a brow. “Because you dared to curse the absent father of your children?”

  The sparkle in his eyes was the only thing that belied his amusement.

  Despite that, Annalise sobered. “You were there when it mattered, Phillip. The children have so many memories of you, taking them for a ride in the park, playing chess with them in the parlor, and reading books in the nursery at bedtime. Even their tumultuous teenage years cannot erase those happy times.” She swallowed. “The fond memories I carry of my father have sustained me through the years, and the memories you made with Beth and Oliver will do the same for them.”

  Silence reigned for a time, but it was not uncomfortable. Annalise was content to sip her tea, while Phillip stared out the window, his placid expression making it clear his thoughts were miles away.

  The morning had dawned cold, with frost clinging to the panes of the windows lining the dining room even now, long after a fire had been laid in the hearth. She had several appointments with wedding vendors, and Annalise shivered at the thought of climbing into chilly hansom cabs all day. December was a dreadful time to plan such an event, but in the end, Annalise could not deny Beth’s wish for a Christmas wedding.

  “What are your plans for the day, Mrs. Dalton?”

  Jerking in surprise, Annalise mentally cursed when she realized she had spilled her tea onto the pristine white tablecloth. Soaking up the mess with her napkin, she reached for her dignity.

  “I have several appointments with various wedding vendors. The flowers need to be selected, Beth’s trousseau completed, and the modiste requires another fitting for my dress.”

  “Do you require an escort?”

  Annalise blinked. “Of course not. I’ve been traveling all over Bristol for years. Besides, I’m certain you have plenty of business to attend to.”

  Taking a sip of tea, Phillip neither confirmed nor denied her assertion.

  Fighting the urge to fidget, she waved a hand. “Aside from the cold, I’ll be just fine.”

  Phillip cocked his head. “Will you take the carriage?”

  She shook her head. “I plan on taking a hansom.”

  “I’ll call for the carriage to be made ready for you. You and Beth should not have to concern yourself with finding a hansom cab on a cold, blustery day when we have a perfectly good carriage you can take instead.”

  “It’s really not necessary,” she protested, her voice rising an octave. “I take hansoms whenever I have business about town.”

  “Be that as it may, I would feel more comfortable if you took the carriage.”

  Phillip’s jaw was firm, his gaze holding hers unwaveringly. Annalise suspected he was braced for more of her objections, and she had several still in mind. She was not used to informing someone of her plans and having them changed without her approval, and it set her teeth on edge. Yet…a strange warmth traveled up her spine and spread across her skin at the idea that her comfort and safety were important to him.

  Sucking in a discreet breath, she nodded. “Very well.”

  “I’ll make sure it’s available for you when you’re ready to depart.” Rising to his feet, Phillip offered her a crisp bow. “Happy shopping.”

  Annalise watched him leave, an odd sort of lump in her throat.

  Chapter Three

  For what felt like the hundredth time that hour, Phillip glanced up at the clock on the mantle. How had it only been ten minutes?

  When he had settled in his immaculate study that smelled of beeswax and cedar an hour earlier, he had been intent on reading his correspondence and studying the mound of ledgers waiting for him on his desk. His older brother, Charles, had written, explaining that each leather-bound book testified to the financial health of his comfortable home in Bristol, as well as the small estate outside Cardigan in Wales that he had purchased five years prior. The solicitor his father, and later Charles, oversaw had sent him quarterly reports of the finances, no matter where he was in the world, and the figures had never induced a single bout of heartburn. But now that he was home, Phillip intended to account for every last penny recorded in the tidy pages of the ledgers.

>   Yet instead of calculating figures or returning Charles’s letter, Phillip found his ear trained to the street below, waiting for the sound of the bells he insisted the grooms hang on the coach. From her raised brows and pinched lips, Annalise had made it clear what she truly thought about his insistence she and Beth take the carriage to run errands. Phillip knew she was more than capable of navigating around the city on her own. His career had made her independence and resiliency a necessity. His wife was pragmatic, clever, and no-nonsense to a fault, yet he would not abide her discomfort if he could prevent it.

  When he heard a knock on the front door, he jumped up and looked out the window. There was no carriage parked on the curb, so who had come to visit?

  Heavy footsteps sounded down the hall. Phillip relaxed back in his chair and reached for a piece of correspondence, attempting to appear bored and unperturbed.

  A tap sounded on the door a moment before the manservant appeared. “Mr. Newell is here to see you, sir.”

  Finally. Phillip masked his surprise. “Please show him in.”

  A second later, a tall, lean young man with foppish blond hair and shrewd blue eyes stepped through the doorway. He was dressed stylishly, his clothes tailored and expensive, and his swift bow was crisp and respectful.

  Phillip was certain he didn’t like him.

  “Mr. Newell,” he drawled, indicating a chair in front of his desk with the wave of his hand. When the young man had taken his seat, he asked, “It was good of you to come to call. I had hoped to meet my daughter’s intended after I had arrived, but it seems you’ve kept a busy schedule over this last fornight.”

  The lad smiled, although it did not show in his eyes. “I apologize for not coming to call sooner, sir. Standing for a county seat is quite a busy undertaking, as I’m sure you can understand.”

  “Of course,” Phillip steepled his hands in front of his mouth. “But it makes me wonder what other niceties you will push aside for the sake of your political career.”