Loving a Fearless Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Book(86)
“But she might be boring. She might spend her days in the library reading Pride and Prejudice and such.” Silas was worried.
Phin laughed. “She sounds perfect.”
***
Phin knew his life in India was simpler than the one he came home to. While in India, he sent Everett everything he earned. They were best friends, and he trusted him with his life. He also trusted him with his money. To pay off his father’s debts quicker, he and Everett joined forces to start a company that imported silk to London from Phin’s nearest port. Now that he was home, they would start the export of English goods to India and China.
Phin had access to other commodities he could send home as well. Everett responded to every request with enthusiasm. They profited from each ship set sail from India with space rented by Phin.
When he began working his free land, growing tea, Phin liked the change. London was dirty, crowded, noisy, and to Phin, uninhabitable. However, Assam, India reminded Phin of Collinswood. They were nothing alike, of course, but they both were in the country. There was quiet.
In India, Phin worked, he ate the food his cook served him, and he read at night by candlelight. Sometimes he wrote letters to Everett about when a ship would arrive in the London ports with fabric made in India or China. Sometimes he wrote Mercy or Silas about what his life was like, asking them to do the same. He never asked after his father, but he never told Mercy or Silas to leave out information about him. He didn’t want his siblings to know anything about what happened between the two.
Phin owned a plantation and then took over two more from countrymen who couldn’t make a go of it. He bought the new technology, an iron plough that prepared the land with two oxen instead of six. It was two times faster. His plantation home was modest compared to the Exeter properties in England. A kitchen, dining room and parlour downstairs and three bedchambers upstairs. All built by him.
Windows remained open nine months out of the year, the rainy season being the exception, and he ate mostly food served cold. His plantation relied on a series of wells dotted around his property used both to water the plants and to use in his home.
Phin walked into town, usually twice a week. While walking, he liked to look at the neat, straight rows of tea plants on each side of the path. It gave him a reassuring feeling inside that the world was not all a mad mess. The town, four buildings close together really, served as the place he ordered sugar, flour, and other staples as well as the place to send out the word for new workers. He could have sent someone from the kitchen to do the task, but Phin liked the walk.
His first stop was always the shop that doubled as a post drop. He wrote Everett, Mercy, and Silas often and usually received a letter every week. He missed them. All of them. It had not occurred to him that he was so close to his family and Everett until they were no longer within arm's reach.
Phin found a simple, kind, beautiful native of Assam. Anusha was exactly what he needed. She took care of him. She answered his every need. She was a calm, quiet woman whom he had known for four years without ever hearing her raise her voice.
Granted, the culture and role of women in India were quite different, but Phin was confident he could find what he was looking for. He wanted someone like Anusha. Someone soothing to live with. Someone he could count on to be there when he needed her. Someone who understood he needed peace after the evening meal. He needed time alone each day as much as he needed sleep each night. He got irritable without it. But he knew it so he could manage it. His English wife would help him.
***
Silas leaned back in the carriage and blew out a frustrated breath. “I think you should hold your aspirations in check until you’ve been back on British soil for more than an hour.”
Silas was worried Phin would turn into a hermit. With a quiet wife who didn’t want to socialize with the ton nor venture into London every once in a while, Phin would be happy living with little contact with the outside world. Yes, Phin had always run from conflict of any kind, and yes, he needed downtime every day, but this plan was not good for him. Phin shouldn’t strive for isolation.
“Silas, I’ve had five years to think about what I want. Look at these streets,” Phin said as he swept a hand towards the carriage window. “The city is still dirty and smells of the polluted stream that runs down every street. Why are chamber pots emptied out the front windows?” Phin didn’t wait for an answer. “The coal fumes are so thick; I am not sure where the haze of coal ends and the fog begins. I can’t tell – is it foggy today?” Again, he did not expect an answer.
Phin turned to Silas and leaned back in his seat. In resignation, he said, “How long into the season are we?”
“Not even a month. You haven’t missed much. No one has paired off yet.”
“I know I need to be around for Mercy no matter how long it takes, but I’d like to get this wrapped up soon so I can head to Collinswood. When is the next event?”
Silas was incredulous. His voice came out a little lower than he expected. He detected a growl in his speech. “You’re joking. Relax. You’re not going to Collinswood soon. I know you’d like to leave town, but have you considered Mercy? What will you do if you have trouble finding a wife quickly?”
“I’ll be anywhere Mercy needs me for as long as she needs me.” Phin shrugged. “Why should I have trouble finding a wife? I’m single, a Duke, and I’m wealthy. I don’t drink; I don’t gamble, and I don’t want a mistress. What could possibly take time?”