Chapter 11
Dance with me.
“Nathaniel Ashford, you are a coward,” Nat told himself glumly as he drew his borrowed mount to a halt on Summer Hill. It was certainly not very summery at present, a thin flurry of snow buffeting about and hitting him in the face, making him blink and his cheeks sting.
About now, his cousin Aubrey would be twirling Meg around the ballroom, teaching her to waltz. It could have been Nat. It ought to have been Nat. Instead, he was out in this frigid weather, freezing his arse off and resenting Aubrey with every fibre of his being.
It was the only way, though. Safer for them both.
He didn’t think he was the only one who thought so, either.
They’d been avoiding each other for the past week, ever since the visit to the vicarage.
Of course, it was impossible to avoid each other entirely, but Meg breakfasted in her room, and Nat found reasons to be out of the house early, and to come back just as Meg and Della and the others had made plans to go out.
There was dinner, naturally, and then they spoke, catching up with the events of the day, but they were not alone then, and under scrutiny, so there was no chance of slipping up and saying or doing, something that would have repercussions.
Hawkney was suspicious. That he was certain of.
Nat didn’t think anyone else had noticed their sudden desire to be out of each other’s company; not yet, at least. But they would.
Well, it would just make their inevitable breakup more believable, he thought morosely.
Yet he missed her more and more with each day that passed, and catching glimpses of her about the house now and then only seemed to make matters worse.
“Bugger this!”
Why the devil should he avoid her? He liked her company, damn it, so he’d enjoy it while he could. He had no illusions that such a clever and vibrant woman as Miss Bancroft would choose him as her mate, certainly not if she had the dowry and connections she ought to have but….
He was about to turn Merlin around and head back to the hall, hopeful he might steal a dance from Aubrey, when a thought occurred to him.
His grandmother had recognised Meg’s maternal family name, and they had objected to her mother’s marrying her father.
That being the case, they must not have thought him good enough.
What if Grandmother was right, and they’d love to have Meg back, to have the chance to make amends?
What if she had a dowry and family? Then she would not have to work as a governess.
Then he would not feel so damned guilty about abandoning her.
The thought ought to have made him feel better, but strangely it only unsettled him further.
But this was not for him, this was for Meg.
His feelings ought not to come into it. If he could do something for her, find her a place in society where she really could be safe and happy and valued as she ought to be…
well, then he’d have done something worthwhile.
Patting Merlin’s neck, he urged the big gelding on and rode back to the Hall.
He found his grandmother in the family parlour, tucked up by the fire with a rug about her knees and a book in her hand. Her eyes had closed, though, her spectacles slipping half off her nose, and a soft snoring sound reached his ears.
It was warm by the fire, and lamps illuminated the room though it was still daylight, giving a cosy glow. He could perfectly understand why she preferred to be here, especially as it seemed she was making friends—and enjoying interfering in the town's life, he did not doubt.
Nat smiled, reaching over and twitching the rug so it covered her feet.
“What’s that?” the dowager said abruptly, blinking awake. “Oh, Nat. Don’t creep up on old ladies. You’ll give them an apoplexy.”
“Sorry, Gee-Gee. Good book, is it?” he asked, quirking one eyebrow.
She glared at him. “Very. Why d’you ask?”
“No reason,” he said, smothering a laugh and sitting down opposite her.
She set the book aside, placing the spectacles on top of it. “Well, what do you want?”
“Must I want something? Perhaps I just wanted to talk to you!”
“Perhaps, and I’m not saying you wouldn’t, but today, you want something. Spit it out,” she said, making shooing motions at him.
Nat sighed. “Very well. I do. I want you to find out about Meg’s mother’s family for her.”
“Already done,” she said smugly, with such a cat-in-the-cream-pot smile he did not know whether to laugh or scold her.
“You are an interfering old busybody,” he said, shaking his head.
“I know it. Never said otherwise,” she replied, unrepentant. “But that girl might have a family. If she does, she’ll be glad of them, supposing they're not a pack of idiots. And, if they don’t want her… well, she’ll never know.”
Nat sighed. “I ought to wring your neck, but I shall thank you. It was good of you, even if it was none of your business. When do you expect to hear something?”
“I’ve no idea. Not before Christmas, I expect.”
He nodded. It was possible if her family were keen to make amends, but more likely they’d hear nothing for weeks. Months, even.
“Make yourself useful and ring for tea, will you? I’m parched.”
Nat obeyed, amused by how quickly the summons was answered. Gee-Gee had everyone dancing to her tune as usual.
Once they were alone again, she narrowed her eyes. “Now, then. Tell me why you’re here, teaching your old granny to suck eggs, when you might be dancing with your lovely fiancée? Don’t tell me you’ve made a mull of things already?”
Nat laughed, though it was not a happy sound. “Not precisely.”
“Well, what is it? There’s something afoot; I can smell it.
I always knew when you boys were up to no good.
I don’t know what it is, but there’s something.
For one thing, you didn’t meet that girl how you said you did—No!
” she said, holding up a hand when Nat opened his mouth to protest. “Don’t go trying to persuade me otherwise.
You don’t have to tell me anything more and I won’t tattle to Hawkney, so don’t go looking all offended. ”
Nat stared at her, wondering what he ought to say, if anything.
“Gee-Gee—”
“Hush,” she commanded, pointing a gnarly, arthritic finger at him.
“Here’s what I know. You’ve found a young woman who suits you, a prospect that likely scares you to death, which is no doubt why you’ve been playing least in sight these past few days if I know anything.
I do know this, though, Nathaniel. That kind of thing don’t happen every day.
Some of us don’t get a choice in who we marry and when.
I didn’t, and my husband would have made me miserable if I’d let him, which I did not, but that’s by the by.
I don’t intend to see you mess things up for yourself.
Hawkney is doing his utmost, but you’ve never been half so pigheaded as he is so I’ve a hope you’ll listen to me and take good advice.
For all his cleverness, Hawkney is a fool in ways you are not.
So buck up. Go and teach that girl to dance, and whilst you are about it, make sure she falls madly in love with you, and don’t pretend you can’t do it, for I know otherwise. ”
Nat stared at his grandmother for a moment and then laughed. He sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair.
“You are an old witch,” he grumbled fondly.
She snorted. “Throughout history, that’s the kind of accusation always levelled at women who have a deal more cleverness than the men about them.”
“I’m not about to deny it,” he said with a smile, which faded as he remembered Meg had been avoiding him as much as he had her. “What if it’s too late? What if I’ve already made a mess of things?”
“I don’t know what kind of silly games the two of you have been playing, but I know that girl is besotted with you.
It won’t take much to tip her over the edge.
Lord, you should have heard her trying to get me to stop everyone teasing you for being a jolterhead.
She admires you, Nat, and you ought to marry her for that reason alone,” she said with a bark of laughter.
Nat felt his heart give a swift kick behind his ribs at her words. Could it be true? Could Meg really feel that way? Well, if nothing else, he owed it to himself to find out the truth. He got to his feet, going first to his grandmother and bending to press a kiss to her cheek.
“You are a wicked old harridan, and I adore you. Thank you, Gee-Gee.”
She looked up at him, her eyes growing misty as she reached up and patted his face. “You’re a good boy, Nat. You always were, and I’d like to see you happy. Run along now and find that girl. Don’t go crashing about like a bull in a china shop but show her you mean business.”
Nat laughed and straightened up. “I will,” he promised, and hurried from the room.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Meg exclaimed as she trod on Aubrey’s toes for the third time that morning. “I’m getting worse, not better.”
“Not to worry,” Aubrey said manfully, though that time she had definitely heard him smother a yelp. “You’re just thinking too hard. You had it perfectly yesterday, but today your head is somewhere else entirely. Why don’t we take a break for a moment?”
Meg nodded, feeling wretched as she watched him hobble across the ballroom to where Della sat at the piano.
She turned away, walking instead to one of the many French doors that looked out upon the gardens.
How lovely it must be in the summer. On a cold, wet December day, however, it seemed as if the clouds had fallen and surrounded the hall, for all she could see was a cold, wet fog coiled about the house.