Page 9 of The Captain's Midwinter Bride
Even now she longed to flee to her room, to let loose the tears she had bottled up over the last two decades. Phillip’s casual reveal meant her father had not left her penniless and destitute. He had left her a portion, and it had been stolen from her.
She wanted to be angry at her husband. How had he not known what his father, and possibly his brother, had done? How could he have left her, and later their children, in their care?
But Phillip’s ashen complexion, the tortured light in his blue eyes, stripped her of any suspicions she possessed that he was involved. He adored their children, Annalise reminded herself, and would never want them to suffer. Old Mr. Dalton had betrayed his trust, as well as her own. She was furious at him and Charles…but not at her husband.
That knowledge was the only reason she had not fled the kitchen as soon as she divined the awful truth. Phillip had thought he provided amply for his family with his hard, often treacherous work, only to discover the wrong family had benefitted.
Annalise raised her teacup to her mouth and took a sip, her tension easing as heat spread through her like cracks on the surface of a frozen lake.
They sat silently, the air only peppered with the sounds of eating and drinking.
In the first few years of their marriage, their meals were often eaten in similar silences. Two people yoked together by circumstance. Strangers who shared a bed. But those times were long ago, and Annalise was determined not to return to such a polite distance again, even if her heart demanded a reprieve. Perhaps if she and her husband had been closer in those early years of their marriage, old Mr. Dalton would not have been able to swindle them.
“Why did Beth want a Christmas wedding?” Phillip asked quietly. Almost tentatively. “Surely most brides would prefer a spring or even a summer wedding.”
“Beth wanted snow. She has always envisioned an all-white wedding, and you can’t have snow in the summer.” The corner of her mouth tipped up. “If we’re lucky, that is.”
Phillip’s eyes turned glassy. “It snowed on our wedding day. I remember snowflakes stuck in your dark hair, almost like a coronet.”
Their wedding day had been a blur to her. Her father had been on his death bed, and she had been in shock. Paralyzed by the knowledge he would soon be gone. Frozen to find she would be alone at eighteen, with no other family to take her in, and a long list of debts ready to bleed her father’s estate dry. Phillip’s father had been his good friend, having worked together on several ventures. It was Mr. Dalton who suggested Phillip, his second son, marry her. Now she knew why he had made that suggestion. How easily she had been manipulated.
Gritting her teeth, Annalise forced herself to focus. Had it snowed on their wedding day? She would have to take Phillip’s word for it because she did not remember. Her mind did not retain memories of such details.
“You were a lovely bride.” Phillip reached for his tea, taking a healthy sip. “Your dark hair and dark eyes stood out amongst all the white. You were my midwinter bride, and I remember being captivated.”
Surprise…and unadulterated delight washed over her. He remembered what she looked like? Remembered the snowflakes that landed on her hair. Claimed she was lovely.Captivating. Annalise did not know what to say.
She cleared her throat. “I’m surprised you remember such things.”
“Why would you be surprised? One’s own wedding is worth remembering, don’t you think?”
“I do,” she said. “I suppose I just assumed you would remember the day a little differently.”
“How so?”
Annalise leaned forward in her chair, every fiber in her body trained on the man across the table from her. The man she had shared her body with, conceived two children with, and was expected to honor and serve for the rest of her days. “Were you not resentful? Angry?”
Phillip’s brow furrowed under the force of her dark glare. “Why would I be?”
“Because you had your whole life before you!” Annalise pushed to her feet, ignoring when Phillip stood out of respect. She paced to the basin, where she deposited her empty plate. “You were a rising officer in the Navy, and incredibly handsome. You could have had any bride of your choosing. And you were forced to settle forme. How could you not be resentful?”
Silence had returned, but now it was painful. Fraught with all the possibilities and missed opportunities that had been stolen from him…and from her. Yet, from the corner of her eye, Annalise saw that her husband did not seem perturbed in the slightest.
Leaning back, Phillip speared her with his sapphire eyes. “I’ve always been content with my choice of bride. Not once have I ever resented you or your position as my wife. You’ve given me two intelligent children. I feel it is I who owes you a debt of gratitude for raising them and caring for our home while I was away for months on end. It seems that I have received the greater end of the bargain.”
The years had been hard, but the alternative was not something Annalise wanted to consider. Her marriage to Phillip had given her stability in the form of a clean, warm home, a kind husband, and children she doted upon. Over time, they were able to move into a grander home and hire servants to assist with their needs. Phillip had provided for her, and she would always be grateful.
“I’m happy you’re home,” she said simply.
“Are you?” He frowned. “Or has my return done nothing more than reveal terrible truths and upend your life?”
She dropped her gaze to her lap. “Mayhap, but I’d much rather we sort through these difficulties together.”
He cleared his throat. “I would like to do that too.” Phillip paused for a pregnant moment. “Do you suppose Beth will talk to me about her relationship with Mr. Newell if I ask her? She’s not exactly forthcoming where I’m concerned.”
Annalise couldn’t help but smile at that. “Perhaps we can do it together.”
Phillip’s mien turned serious. “Tell me plainly, is he kind to her?”
