into touching her by an apology. It seemed just another of the many things she’d be forced to overcome if she were to draw them together, yet it might prove the most difficult. She could hardly pounce on him and kiss him the way the stationer’s son had done with her in the dark hallway between the shop and the store room. Or could she?
‘Why did your great-great-grandmama need a knife?’ Laura prompted once they reached the sitting room.
Inside, a warm fire burned in the grate, making the room more intimate and inviting than when she’d met him there that morning.
‘She was a moneylender, the one who introduced our family to the business.’
‘A woman? I don’t believe you,’ she teased, but his expression remained solemn.
‘She and my great-great-grandfather lived in North Carolina and owned a tobacco plantation.’ He removed the slender knife from its place of honour above the mantel and brought it to her. ‘After she became a widow, she began lending money to planters and merchants and amassed a sizeable fortune.’
‘If your family was so successful, then why did they leave the colonies?’
‘My grandparents saw the threat the American Rebellion posed to their business. Well before war was declared, they sold the plantation at a profit and returned to London. The two of them re-established themselves here.’
‘And the knife?’ Laura’s fingertips brushed his palms as she tilted it so the engraving could catch the light. Philip’s heat was so distracting, she comprehended not one word of the inscription on the blade.
‘Great-Great-Grandmama helped fund Lieutenant-Governor Spotswood’s attack against Blackbeard.’ They stood so close, she could hear the uneven rhythm of his breathing. ‘When Governor Spotswood repaid the loan, he gave her this in thanks. It belonged to the pirate. It was one of many he was wearing when he was killed. It’s been in the family ever since.’
‘I should have known you were right.’ She looked up at him through her lashes and a strange sort of panic flashed through his eyes. Beneath her fingertips, his hands stiffened on the blade. He’d been bold enough to stride in front of her naked when she’d threatened him. Tonight, when he held a weapon and there was no more flesh showing than the curved tops of her breasts, it was as if he wanted to flee. ‘You don’t lie.’
‘I’ve never had a reason to.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is one of the many things I admire you for.’
He arched one eyebrow at her. ‘Then I assume you’ve forgiven me for this morning.’
‘I have.’
Something like relief rippled through his eyes. She withdrew her hand from the knife, stunned. She thought nothing besides his sister’s strong will could upset him, but it seemed their row this morning had troubled him too.
‘I apologise for placing you in a situation you weren’t ready for. It won’t happen again.’
‘Thank you, but what about my mother? Have you placed her in a role she’s not ready for?’
‘No.’ He lowered the dagger, untroubled by her question. ‘When I approached her with the suggestion, she readily agreed.’
‘I’m sure she felt compelled to.’
‘No, not at all.’ A moment ago he’d been willing to admit he was wrong. Now he was so arrogantly sure of himself.
‘You still should have discussed it with me first.’
‘Why?’ He returned the dagger to its place above the mantel. ‘Mrs Townsend is a woman of mature years and doesn’t need anyone’s approval to do as she pleases.’
‘She’s ill. She needs rest.’ Laura’s voice rose before she brought herself back under control. ‘Too much exertion might be bad for her.’
‘I must disagree.’ He wiped the fingerprints off the blade with the cuff of his sleeve. ‘Mrs Townsend, like you, is not used to being idle. With your attention directed elsewhere, she needs an occupation. My sister will gain from the benefit of your mother’s maternal care and business knowledge, and your mother from having another young person to guide and teach.’
Laura had no answer for him because he was right. She’d been wrong about him. Once again, he hadn’t acted out of arrogance, but concern. If she didn’t learn to think better of him, it would undermine everything she was trying to accomplish.
‘I’m sorry and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.’ She gripped the edge of the mantel. The cold marble corner dug into her palm. ‘Only, I’ve been taking care of her for so long, it’s difficult to think I won’t have to any longer.’
He laid his hand on the mantel in front of hers. The heat of his skin radiated across the short distance between their fingertips. ‘She does still need you. She always will.’
‘Just like Jane still needs you.’
He heaved a weary sigh. ‘She doesn’t believe she does, but, yes.’
If only he needed Laura. Dread made her long to pace. If something happened to her mother, Philip and his family would be all she’d have left. It would be a lonely future if she failed to capture his affection. ‘You make it look so effortless, managing your business and your family. If I’d had your talent for it, I might have saved the shop.’
‘Then you wouldn’t be here.’
She straightened, stunned by the faint hope woven into the words. Maybe it was possible. Maybe she could win his heart. ‘Are you glad I’m here?’
After this morning, she wouldn’t be surprised if he regretted his proposal.
‘I am.’ The honesty of his admission stunned her, as did his question. ‘Are you?’
She wasn’t sure. She’d wanted only the shop for so long. Now she wanted something else, something she wasn’t sure she could achieve. If she couldn’t win him, at least she was safe here. For that she was grateful. ‘Yes.’
He looked down at the marble and traced a dark swirl in the stone. It brought his fingers achingly close to hers. She thought he might take her hand, but then he slid his away.
‘It’s taken me a long time to become comfortable raising Jane, and then Thomas and managing the business.’ Loneliness and heartache tainted his words. Like her, he’d taken care of his loved ones while shouldering the burden of continuing on after a loved one’s death. Philip might have been more successful with his business, but grief had left its mark on him just as it had on Laura. ‘It wasn’t easy. Some days it still isn’t. It will help to have someone to assist me. I hope to offer you the same comfort.’
‘In many ways, you already have.’ She slid her hand over his, eager to chase away the darkness filling his eyes.
Beneath her fingers his muscles stiffened. The easy intimacy of a moment before vanished, the pain straining his expression dampening to something more solid, something she couldn’t read.
She expected him to pull away and increase the wall forming between them. To her surprise, he turned his hand over in hers and slid his thumb along the line of her smallest finger. The slow caress ripped through her, as startling as if he’d stroked her nearly bare chest. If the same excitement raced through him she couldn’t tell. His eyes remained fixed on hers, serious yet tempting, his true feelings as hidden from her as they were from his clients.
Despite his stoicism, she silently willed him to close the distance between them, to take her in his arms and kiss her until she could think of nothing except his touch, his warmth, his body. The urge frightened her as much as it made her heart race with anticipation, but the moment never happened. She pressed her fingertips against his wrist. His pulse beat a soothing rhythm against her skin. It didn’t flutter wildly like hers. It seemed he was reaching out to her, but still holding something of himself back, retreating just when she wanted