Page 29 of The Captain's Midwinter Bride
Annalise chuckled as she looked into his dear face. His expression remained stoic, but laughter lit his eyes. “Very bracing, indeed.”
Their good moods were tempered when they knocked on Beth’s chamber door. She was subdued when she learned of her visitors, and Annalise tried to give her encouraging platitudes as they walked to the sitting room. With her mother’s presence by her side, and Phillip’s protective stance behind her, Beth seemed to relax. When they arrived outside the sitting room door, Beth braced her shoulders and lifted her chin, reminiscent of her old self, and sailed into the room.
“Mr. Newell, Mrs. Newell,” she said, sinking into a polite curtsy. “How good of you to visit today.”
Annalise settled onto the settee next to her daughter after greeting their guests, while Phillip opted to stand by the roaring fireplace, rolling the holly berries decorating the mantle between his long fingers. He looked every inch the officer he had been, his impossibly broad shoulders seeming strong enough to withstand any threat. She longed to stand next to him, desperate for his strength as they endured the confrontation ahead.
“A visit before our ride is just the thing. Mother and I were just commenting that with the wedding next week, there are still several details to settle.” Mr. Newell unbuttoned a portion of his coat before sinking into the chair opposite Beth. “Aside from finalizing the settlements, there is still the matter of the wedding trip and whether we plan to take it before or after Christmas. And who will we spend Christmas Day with? Naturally, my mother would prefer for us to spend the evening with her.”
Leaning forward to interrupt, Beth placed a hand on top of Annalise’s, suffocating any words that lay on her tongue.
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Mr. Newell and his mother both blinked in unison.
“What won’t be necessary, dear?” Mrs. Newell asked, recovering first.
“Any of it. Most especially the wedding.”
While Mr. Newell stuttered an incoherent response, Mrs. Newell fixed Beth with a gimlet-eyed stare. “I beg your pardon, Miss Dalton. Whatever do you mean?”
Beth discreetly inhaled, and Annalise squeezed her hand for added encouragement. “I’m afraid I’ve changed my mind. I no longer wish to marry Mr. Newell.”
Silence suffocated the room. Annalise fought the urge to fidget, wishing the blasted visit was over so she could eject the Newells from her home and retire with Phillip to her chamber.
She was eager to finally have Beth freed from this engagement that had morphed into so much more than they had anticipated.
“But why not?” Mr. Newell’s mouth gaped. “I don’t understand what is happening.”
Smiling kindly, Beth said, “I have realized over the last several days that we are not a good match. You are keen on having a political career, and I have never desired to be a political wife.”
“But Lady Jersey was to select a tutor for you,” Mrs. Newell interjected. “She is not the sort of lady you turn down.”
“The countess has been very kind, and I hope to become her friend,” Beth said, sliding her gaze to Phillip, as if seeking his permission to exaggerate the details of her supposed relationship with Lady Jersey. He offered a brief nod. “Lady Jersey may not be assisting me to become a political wife, but I know I can count on her goodwill any time I seek it.”
Mr. Newell shook his head rapidly back and forth, as if such actions would aid him in grasping the meaning of Beth’s words. “We’re to wed. Next week. You cannot possibly back out now.”
“Indeed, I can.” Beth’s voice was soothing, as if to take any sting out of her rejection. “We do not suit. I should have noticed as much long before now.”
“And why didn’t you?” Mrs. Newell demanded in a biting tone.
Her tone was excusable, Annalise decided, considering how Beth was throwing over her son.
Swallowing, Beth was quiet for a moment, weighing her words. “Mr. Newell was attentive and kind. His positive attributes blinded me to all the reasons a future between us would not be ideal.”
“The two of you seemed to suit just fine until Captain Dalton returned.” Mrs. Newell directed a glare down her nose at Phillip. “Convenient, that.”
Annalise opened her mouth to pummel the impertinent woman with a stinging verbal assault, but a quelling glance from Phillip stayed her tongue.
“What you call convenient, I deem fortuitous. As an officer in Her Majesty’s Navy, my father’s safe return was never a guaranteed thing.” Beth smiled widely at Phillip. “I count myself lucky that he is home to provide me support and counsel.”
Phillip’s jaw slackened, and his delighted surprise made Annalise press her lips together to withstand the emotions that coursed through her as she watched Beth beam at her father.
“I’m sure we are all relieved Captain Dalton returned to English shores healthy and hale,” Mrs. Newell began, “but his lengthy absence means he is not aware of how things are done here in Bristol.”
Annalise could no longer keep quiet. “I have lived in Bristol the entirety of my life. Pray tell, Mrs. Newell, how are things done here?”
Her tone was altogether harsh, yet she did not feel guilty about it. If Mrs. Newell was comfortable tossing about baseless assertions, she should have expected to be challenged on such nonsense.
