Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Nathaniel could hear voices drifting from the foyer. He clenched his jaw, pushing himself forward, reminding himself that he needed to endure these measures for his brother. Still, he would have preferred to remain on his black steed, Bastion.
The guests had assembled and were turning to face him. He faltered a little, the riding crop almost dropping from under his arm.
He did not falter when he saw the older woman with the blank expression, as though she met men of his renown every day. Nor did he react to the wry grin of the Duke of Stonewood. The gentle beauty of the younger lady did not affect him either.
No.
He reacted only to her.
Auburn hair was tied back, revealing a striking jaw. Faint freckles were dusted across her nose. He had seen them in detail. Hazel eyes were frantic, unable to settle.
His jaw clenched, and in one instant, that strange, improper moment exploded like dawning sunlight in his mind. He pinched his glove more tightly while the core of his body became rigid with tension. A mixture of frustration, fury, and indignation settled in the back of his throat.
A woman like her had no place in his home. He would have been well within his rights to throw her out without a second thought, but just as his lip curled, he caught Alfred’s gaze, noticing the hidden plea on his face.
Then, Alfred approached Nathaniel and led him to the group. The Dowager Duchess made the introductions. The words flew through the air.
“Dowager Duchess, Your Grace, Ladies, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope your journey here was untroubled,” he said, bowing to each in turn.
He relied on his practiced etiquette; however, the movements and the words were imbued with an automated quality as his attention drifted toward Charlotte.
First, he wanted to ensure that this was indeed the same woman. There was no doubting it, however. The image of her was etched into his mind, as was the sound of her sharp words. She adopted a gentler tone with him here, the fire of her argument doused by the situation, no doubt.
Secondly, he needed to decide exactly what to do with her. His temptation was to out her immediately, but a guarded thought whispered through his mind. Like it or not, she had involved him in this scandal. Nathaniel had to be cautious about how he revealed the truth, lest he be tainted too.
For the moment, he quelled his instincts, wishing for more time to plan his course of action. He quickly tore his gaze away from Charlotte, confident that he had done enough to mask his surprise. He held out a hand.
“Perhaps we should adjourn to the drawing room, where our guests may be more comfortable. We have much to discuss.” He nodded his head and waited for them to turn. Charlotte seemed to be half a step quicker than everyone else, as though she was in a hurry to flee.
Nathaniel could not blame her. She had stained her lips with impropriety after all.
He lingered in the foyer, giving his riding crop and gloves to a servant before issuing an order to bring refreshment to the drawing room. Then, he took a moment to look at the portraits of his ancestors, with whom he shared his stern countenance and gray eyes.
I wonder if any of you had to deal with someone like her, he thought. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he joined them in the drawing room.
When he entered, Nathaniel pinched his lips. Agatha Hartley had inadvertently offended his mother by sitting in her favorite chair. Beatrice was currently clasping her hands together tightly, the tension unmistakable upon her face. Mary and Alfred were sitting together with Clara between them.
As for the three siblings, Duke Edmund was perusing a bookshelf. Lydia was showing some decorum, at least by perching in a chair and keeping quiet, her hands folded in her lap.
“Mary has told me you enjoy nature, Lady Charlotte. Perhaps you would care to admire the view?” Alfred invited. Charlotte nodded demurely, privately relieved to be able to remove herself from the group and gather her thoughts.
“Did you have a good ride, brother?” Alfred asked.
Servants entered, bringing a clinking tea set with them. The warm aroma filled the room. Clara’s eyes widened at the plate of golden-brown biscuits, and then she seemed amused when Agatha’s nimble fingers plucked one. Agatha drew back, nibbling on the biscuit.
Beatrice quailed.
Nathaniel expected a little piece of her had died inside as crumbs fell upon her precious chair.
“It was fine. The weather was temperate today,” Nathaniel replied.
“You must all join us for a ride; the woods are teeming with wildlife. Every time we venture outside, there is something new to see,” Alfred said, excitement making his voice waver.
“We would love to, especially my dear sister. She was harping on about that during our journey.” Edmund nodded toward Lydia.
The demure girl dipped her head but could not hide her smile nor the rosiness upon her cheeks.
“Of course, but before you venture outside, we must educate you about the boundaries of our land. It would not do for you to intrude upon another’s territory.” Nathaniel’s thinly veiled comment was aimed at Charlotte. He noticed her head tilt. She glanced over her shoulder at him.
“What are you on about? Our forests are so vast, I highly doubt they will leave our bounds.” Alfred furrowed his brow.
“It always pays to be cautious. One must know the rules to ensure they are unbroken,” Nathaniel said. Charlotte cleared her throat as he said this.
“Please have some tea, My Lady,” Nathaniel directed his words to Charlotte. She was hesitant at first. “I insist,” he added, almost hissing the words.
Charlotte turned and bowed her head. He stared at her, noticing this time that she dared not meet his gaze.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she whispered, taking the cup and saucer in her hands. He noticed how tightly she gripped it and the ripples in the tea.
“Is there anything that takes your interest, Your Grace? Please feel free to enjoy anything in our extensive library,” Alfred suggested, rising to stand beside Edmund.
“Let us not stand on ceremony. We are soon to be family! Please call me Edmund,” Edmund insisted.
Nathaniel inclined his head, thinking that these people were supposed to impress them, not the other way around. Edmund’s eschewing his title did not sit right with Nathaniel either.
“I would like to keep up my reading of poetry. What collections do you have?” Edmund asked.
“Is there something the matter?” Agatha asked indignantly, interrupting the conversation.
“Not at all. I just thought you might appreciate a cloth to collect those crumbs,” Beatrice suggested with a forced smile on her face. She had taken a cloth from one of the servants and offered it to Agatha, while glancing nervously at the chair in which Agatha was sitting.
“That won’t be necessary at all. I have never dropped a crumb in my life. Things are too precious to waste,” Agatha said. As she spoke, she waved half a biscuit in the air. Crumbs dropped noticeably into her lap. Beatrice let out a suppressed gasp but said nothing further.
Nathaniel ghosted his way to the window, standing beside Charlotte. The window looked out to the rear of the grounds. The forest rose beyond the walls.
“It’s quite a view, especially from the upper floors,” he said, keeping his voice low. Charlotte twitched, the teacup shaking in her hands. Now that he was closer, he was reminded of her scent. It was sweet and floral and seemed to rush to overwhelm his senses.
“Indeed. You have an impressive estate.” Charlotte’s words were divested of their strength and devoid of the stubbornness he had heard before.
“Do you intend to enjoy a ride in the countryside?”
“I’m sure it would be a lovely experience.”
“Then I must warn you that some animals are prone to leap out from nowhere. It can be difficult to defend oneself against such an attack. Of course, we cannot blame them, for they do not know any better.”
Charlotte’s head dipped. Nathaniel studied the strands of auburn hair. Some of them glinted red as they caught the light from outside. He had to shake himself to break his concentration.
“Nathaniel, would you mind showing Her Grace the bust of your great-great-grandfather?” Beatrice called out to him.
Nathaniel looked across and saw the strained look on his mother’s face. It was often a sign that something was wrong.
As he was called into action like this, he moved away from Charlotte and caught her relieved breath.
Nathaniel helped Agatha out of the chair and led her to the corner, moving past Edmund and Alfred.
As soon as Agatha rose, Beatrice beckoned a servant over, and he began to collect the crumbs that dusted the chair.
Then, she handed him the cloth to lay over it.
Meanwhile, Mary had engaged Lydia in conversation.
“And who is this fellow then?” Agatha asked as they approached the bust.
“His name was Alfred Blackwood; my brother was named after him.” Nathaniel held himself a little straighter, feeling a sense of pride wash over him. Agatha moved around the bust, inspecting it from all angles.
“Was his nose that crooked in real life?”
Nathaniel pressed his lips together. Edmund and Alfred were close enough to overhear.
“Oh, Grandmother, it’s not crooked. It’s just the angle you’re looking at. That nose is straight as an arrow. I’m not sure there’s ever been a nose as straight as that one.” Edmund offered an apologetic smile as he took Agatha’s hand and led her away.
Nathaniel’s face remained blank, unmoved by this empty flattery.
“I do not take kindly to being insulted in my own home,” he growled under his breath.
Alfred placed a hand on his arm.
“Consider it an artistic impression, and we all know that opinions about art are subjective.”
“And manners are absolute.”
“Brother, please, I need this to go well. Give them the benefit of the doubt.”
“You ask much of me,” Nathaniel said, his gaze once again drifting toward Charlotte.
“And I shall repay you in kind. I am humbled by your generosity, Your Grace,” Alfred added, squeezing Nathaniel’s arm. He then turned and spread out his arms, ready to address the room.
“While I’m sure we’re all enjoying acquainting ourselves, there is a most pressing matter at hand—my wedding to this most enchanting woman.” He glanced toward Mary, who blushed and smiled.
Edmund led Agatha back to her chair. She seemed puzzled by the cloth, gesturing to it with a bewildered expression. Edmund waved a dismissive hand in the air and helped lower her.
Charlotte turned her entire body from the window, finally looking toward the middle of the room instead of focusing her gaze outside. She remained in the same position, however unwilling to move from safety.
“Indeed, my dear brother.” Nathaniel placed a hand on Alfred’s shoulder and acted as though he was addressing the room, although his words were meant for one person in particular.
“And of course, with marriage comes certain expectations. I’m sure we all want this wedding to proceed as smoothly as possible.
With that in mind, we must respect the proper procedure and behavior.
Everything must be conducted according to tradition. ”
As he said this, he focused his gaze on Charlotte. She glanced at him for an instant but then immediately turned away, staring into her cup of tea. It was almost impossible to believe that this was the same woman who had thrown herself at him. Had she been possessed by some demon?
“We are in complete agreement, and there is certainly no danger of anything like that affecting the wedding. You’ll be pleased to know that my dear sister is a stickler for rules.
She won’t let anything untoward or unexpected happen, not with eyes as keen as hers,” Edmund grinned as he moved across the room, taking Charlotte’s hand and leading her away from the window.
She was standing opposite Nathaniel now, each of them flanked by their brothers. The low table was knee high, separating them. Charlotte was looking everywhere but at him.
“Is that so?” Nathaniel arched an eyebrow.
“Oh yes, she’s been keeping me in line since we were children,” Edmund chortled.
“It brings me great relief to know that there is someone who is so disciplined, who would never lose control,” Nathaniel said.
At this, Charlotte did lift her glance. Now, he caught a glimpse of the fire that had burned him before. Her full lips were drawn taut, twitching as though she was holding back words.
It appeared she was not so outspoken as to speak in front of the families, but neither was she as meek as she seemed. Edmund might be suggesting otherwise, but as always, Nathaniel was going to trust his judgment over others.
Charlotte Hartley meant trouble.
“Of course,” he continued, “I will be the one to make the final decision. This wedding falls under my purview, and I need to make sure that everything is as it should be before it is settled.”
The words were directed at her, as unerring as an arrow loosed from a prize-winning archer’s bow. Charlotte flinched as if physically struck, and color returned to her cheeks.
Nathaniel showed no trace of it on his face but pressed his toes against the floor, rocking on his heels slightly to express his smugness.
Getting under her skin was a victory indeed, but this was a war, and one battle would not decide the outcome. For all of her meekness during this discussion, she still showed defiance in her eyes. The boldness and recklessness were lurking in her heart and might well erupt at any moment.
Yes, he would have to keep a close eye on her. If there was any trouble caused for his house and family, he was certain it would originate from her. After all, she had already kissed him. What more was she capable of?
This time, when he looked at her, she stared back at him. There was a silent argument occurring, unbeknownst to the others. They had a secret connection, and this led to a simmering tension that heated the air between them.
He could not take his eyes off her, but caution was the only reason why he watched her.
At least, that’s what he told himself.