time for bed now, Jane.’ Mr Rathbone appeared in the doorway behind his sister, his reminder more a firm request than the stern demand of a guardian.
Laura tightened the banyan a touch more about her neck. The chemise beneath stuck to her damp skin, pressing against it with an uncomfortable warmth and making her keenly aware of her undress beneath the silk. It brought to mind how he looked beneath his clothes.
His redingote was gone, revealing a dark jacket woven with a subtle checked pattern paired with tan breeches. Without the bulk of the wool, he seemed leaner, tighter. The well-tailored clothes emphasised his coiled strength, giving a hint of the lithe power he’d revealed when he’d avoided her uncle to land a stunning blow on his chin. Laura hadn’t expected Mr Rathbone to be so physical and she struggled to keep herself steady as his masculinity pounced on her.
‘Goodnight, Miss Townsend.’ Jane hurried out, pausing to rise up on her toes and press a small kiss against her brother’s cheek. He bent forward so she could reach him, straightening as she disappeared down the hall.
‘Your sister is very charming.’ Laura adjusted the banyan, trying to relieve some of the heat beneath it without the garment sliding open and making her appear a slatternly hoyden.
‘Don’t let her deceive you. She can be very stubborn when she wants to be.’
Laura smiled up at him. ‘A family trait, I suspect.’
‘Indeed.’ He motioned to the room. ‘May I?’
No!
‘Of course.’ Laura stepped back a touch as he entered, wondering at the awkwardness coming over her. The door was open and he maintained a respectful distance. Even his eyes had not wandered away from hers. Laura tried to match his fortitude, forcing her arms to stay at her sides instead of crossing over her chest. Though there was no point in covering herself entirely. In the very near future, he’d see more than her dressing gown.
‘I won’t keep you from your rest for long. I need to know if you’d prefer the banns to be read or if I should secure a common licence.’
‘Do you truly want my opinion on the matter or should I acquiesce to your wishes?’ She winced a little at her unsubtle question, but exhaustion, his presence in the room and the uncomfortable weight of the banyan were making her tetchy. She craved sleep and wanted to leave everything else until tomorrow.
If he minded she couldn’t tell, his steady countenance not changing, even when he spoke. ‘You’ll find, Miss Townsend, as my wife, I’ll often consult you on many things, this being only the first.’
‘Of course. I’m sorry, it’s been a long day, a long year in fact.’
‘I understand, the past year has been a trying one for me as well.’ His hard-set jaw softened and Laura remembered the only other time she had seen this happen, when he’d mentioned his wife. A grief she knew well from losing her father had washed over his face and the same expression crossed it again now. Whatever tragedy had brought him to the position of needing help under such unusual circumstances, it’d marked him as hard as all the trials of the past year had stamped her.
She was about to suggest the ease of the banns, eager to gain the three or four weeks it would take before the wedding to settle in and get to know something of the man she was about to share her life with, when an interrupting cough drew their attention to the door. From further away, Laura heard the wail of a small child.
A thin, middle-aged woman wearing a dark dress stepped into the room. ‘Excuse me, Mr Rathbone, I didn’t mean to disturb you in the middle of business.’
The woman’s gaze jumped back and forth between Laura and Mr Rathbone.
Laura pulled the silk closer to her chin. She could only imagine what the woman must think she’d walked in on.
‘Miss Marston, please meet my intended, Miss Townsend,’ Mr Rathbone intervened, the stiff mask of business descending over Philip’s face and covering the faint hint of emotion Laura had caught. ‘Miss Marston is Thomas’s nurse.’
‘Oh, Miss Townsend, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’ Mrs Marston’s smile was more surprised than relieved. Laura suspected she’d encounter many similar reactions in the days to come. ‘Mr Rathbone, Thomas awoke crying and nothing I do will calm him. You always have such a way with him. I thought you might come to the nursery for a moment.’
‘Yes, I will.’ He started for the door, then paused. ‘Miss Townsend, come and meet the gentleman who is part of our arrangement.’
His command given, he didn’t wait for her. Mrs Marston wasn’t at all surprised by the abruptness and followed her employer out of the room.
Laura walked behind them, the cries of a very young child growing louder as they stepped into the hallway. Mr Rathbone and Mrs Marston made steady strides for the door at the far end, but Laura’s progress was slower. When she at last reached the room, the sight inside amazed her. Mr Rathbone stood with the small child in his arms, a little face pressed against his coat, the tears soaking into the wool. One chubby hand clutched his lapel, wrinkling the perfectly pressed crease.
‘What’s wrong, Thomas? Did you have a bad dream?’ Mr Rathbone’s steady voice filled the quiet as he shifted back and forth on the toes of his boots. ‘You have nothing to worry about. I’m here.’
His deep voice conjured up memories of her father holding her and wiping away her tears after a nightmare. It seemed like such a long time since she’d felt so safe and loved. His words curled around her insides, soothing her as they did the boy until she wanted to lay her head on Mr Rathbone’s shoulder and cry away all her frustrations and fears from the past year.
‘He has such a way with the boy,’ Mrs Marston murmured from beside her.
‘Yes, he does.’
Whatever reasons she’d had for wanting to wait a month for the wedding disappeared. Too many things might happen in four weeks. He could change his mind and Laura didn’t want to go back to the stinking Seven Dials and the cold, lonely desperation which crept like the damp through those wretched rooms. Even if she never knew the same affection he showed his son, just being in the presence of such love eased the hopelessness and despair she’d suffered for far too long. She didn’t want to lose that.
Mr Rathbone buried his face in the child’s soft blond curls, lowering his voice, but never stopping his soothing words. The boy sniffed, his eyes growing heavy as his father continued to rock him and stroke his little back. Soon the child’s stuffy-nosed breaths gave way to steady, quiet snores. Mr Rathbone kissed his head, then gently laid Thomas back down in his bed. He pulled the blanket up under his chin, then brushed the soft curls with his hand before relinquishing his place next to the bed to Mrs Marston.
‘Come,’ he whispered to Laura, his entreaty for her to join him as soft as his soothing words to his son. ‘We mustn’t disturb him.’
In the hallway, with the door closed behind them, he faced her. A circle of wet from his son’s tears broke the smooth weave of his coat, but he didn’t brush at it or curse the spot. The caring father stood over her, the man of business gone as his eyes swept her face.
Then the look faded and he began to turn and walk away, but she wasn’t ready to see him go.
‘Mr
