Chapter 8
Nathanial
He should have offered to drive a curricle for Miss Little.
No, I should not have. I am trying to spend more time with the other ladies and less time with her.
Doing so would be a kind of declaration I am not going to make. At least, not with Miss Little.
Was it a declaration on Christian’s part? Was he now pursuing Miss Little in earnest? Or was it one of his games?
Christian rarely took anything seriously, but something about the way he was acting around Miss Little now made Nathanial wonder…
As the horses were being saddled, he could not help but watch where Christian was helping Miss Little into the curricle. Did her hand linger just a touch too long? Was the way Christian was looking at her part of his normally flirtatious nature, or was there something more there?
Damnation, why the bloody hell had Christian offered to drive her in the first place?
“Your Grace, would you mind helping me onto my horse?” Lady Kari drew Nathanial’s attention away from the curricle, where Christian was now climbing in. He said something that made Miss Little laugh as he did so.
“Yes, of course,” Nathanial said brusquely, turning away from the view. It was no matter to him what Christian and Miss Little did or did not do.
Lady Kari hardly needed assistance, despite her riding skirts. Cupping his hands for her to step one delicate heel into, he lifted her anyway. She settled into the saddle easily, smiling at him with appreciation.
“Thank you so much, Your Grace.”
“My pleasure, Lady Kari.”
By the time the rest of the company was seated on their mounts, including Nathanial, Christian and Miss Little were well out of sight.
They had to stay along the roads, while the rest of them were going to be going across the fields, so it was very likely they would arrive at the ruins after everyone else.
Unless Christian drove particularly recklessly.
He had better not.
Not with Miss Little seated at his side, equally in danger of whatever maneuver Christian might make.
Sudden worry surged.
Nathanial would be worried for any young lady under such circumstances, of course. Christian was not the most reliable of the dukes present.
“I can mount a damn horse myself.” Lady Astrid’s sharp tones jerked Nathanial’s gaze away from the road where Christian and Miss Little had disappeared.
Everyone was now looking at the lady, as she did indeed get into the saddle herself, revealing that she was wearing the split riding skirts favored by the Scottish.
Standing beside the big bay she was now atop of, Drake appeared to be particularly aggrieved, scowling up at his betrothed.
Nose in the air, she ignored him, kicking her horse into a gallop and directing the steed to the opening in the gate, leaving Drake in her dust—at least momentarily.
Whooping, Matthew followed immediately after her, Sebastian only just behind him, shooting a glance back at Drake that promised he would look after Lady Astrid until Drake could join them.
Nathanial waited until everyone else had passed and brought up the rear with a clearly seething Drake.
“Damnable females,” Drake muttered as Nathanial brought his mount alongside his.
They were moving at a trot, not a gallop. He wondered if it was because Drake refused to give the impression that he was chasing after Lady Astrid, even though there was no one there to see him but Nathanial.
They rode in silence, slowly gaining on the group ahead of them. While they had started at a gallop, they eventually slowed to a walk, allowing Drake and Nathanial to catch up. Lady Astrid remained in front, Sebastian at her side, and they appeared to be chatting amiably enough.
Drake did not seem disposed to conversation, which suited Nathanial perfectly.
Unfortunately, the ladies were not of the same mind, and it did not take long before Lady Nichole had dropped back between him and Drake.
She was determined to make conversation, but Drake was not cooperative, which meant she ended up focusing her efforts on Nathanial.
“I am so glad the weather is good for an outing today,” she said, smiling at him and tipping her head in a coquettish manner. “I do so love to ride.”
“It is fortuitous,” he agreed. “I have not been able to take a ride like this in far too long.”
“It is difficult during the Season,” she said sympathetically. “Hyde Park is hardly conducive to anything more strenuous than a walk.”
That, and he did not have any horses to ride. They had all been sold off to pay his father’s debts.
But he could hardly say so.
Instead, he acted as though that was exactly what he’d meant and nodded his head in agreement.
Lady Nichole was a skilled conversationalist, easily taking him through the usual topics as they rode.
She even managed to coax Drake into adding a sentence or two to the conversation, despite his obvious preoccupation with glaring at the back of Lady Astrid’s head.
When they reached the ruins, Lady Nichole let out a low gasp.
“Oh, my… it’s beautiful!”
Nathanial cast a look over the green rolling hills where the stones rose up from the lush grass.
Ivy dotted the crumbling buildings, and the windows were long gone except for a single stained-glass rose in a pane above where the doors formerly admitted congregants.
A large willow tree dramatically draped its branches beside the old church, the long fronds stirring in the wind.
More trees were visible beyond the building, along with overgrown bushes and a riot of flowers that had spread out from their old beds.
The sun hung high in the sky, casting shadows across the ground that contrasted with all the brightly colored foliage. It was indeed beautiful.
Yet he could not appreciate the view when the back of his neck was prickling, wondering when Christian and Miss Little were going to make their appearance.
He glanced back at the drive, which ended in a curve where it met the road.
They would not be able to see the curricle until it was nearly upon the ruins.
The urge to ride to the end of it and cast a look down the road was strong, but he could not think of a reason that would pass muster.
No one else was concerned about Christian and Miss Little’s slower appearance.
Especially because they already knew it would take the curricle longer to make its way.
Though Christian could also be dawdling. Taking longer than necessary. Deliberately giving himself more time alone with Miss Little in a manner that was socially acceptable.
His mount danced to the side, and Nathanial realized he was sitting far too stiffly in the saddle, grinding his teeth together.
Giving himself a shake, he opened his mouth, and his jaw popped somewhat painfully as he forced himself to relax.
Lady Nichole was giving him a sidelong glance, as though she worried he was going to lose control of his mount.
Managing a smile for her, Nathanial shook himself and dismounted. Leading his horse over to the side where several of the others were doing the same, he found that there was a length of fence where they could secure the horses for now.
“There is a folly down that way,” Lady Astrid was telling Gregory and Tiffany as Nathanial used his reins to secure his horse.
It nickered, and he gave the gelding a good scratch on the side of its neck as a thank you for being patient with him.
“And we can go into the church as long as we are careful. Do not lean on anything. There is also a duck pond a little further down, beyond the church.”
Plenty of things to explore. Except Nathanial did not want to explore. He wanted to sit and wait for Miss Little and Christian to appear.
“I would love to see the duck pond,” Tiffany said, smiling. “I have always been partial to ducks.”
“Then to the duck pond we go,” Gregory replied cheerfully, holding his arm out for his wife to take.
Looking at them, no one would have ever guessed that mere months ago Gregory had been considered one of the foremost rakes of the ton.
Now he was slavishly devoted to his wife and whatever made her happy.
The largest proof being that he was here at the house party at all, much less willing to explore a duck pond.
“I can show you where. Nathanial, give me your arm. You can escort me. There is a matter I wished to speak with you about.” Lady Astrid’s imperious command was such that Nathanial almost lifted his arm without thinking.
Directing a frown at her, he waited a moment just to prove that he was not her puppet on a string before offering her his arm. It would be ungentlemanly not to after such a request.
He was also somewhat curious what she wanted to speak to him about, if she was not just using him as a shield against Drake. Not enough to fully overcome his reluctance to move away from the front of the church without having seen Christian and Miss Little, but he could hardly refuse.
As if his thoughts had conjured them, he heard the Baroness Voight call out, “Ah, look, there are Montagu and Kalina.”
Turning, he saw the curricle at the very end of the drive, coming up at a decent clip.
The baroness was waving at them, as if there were anywhere else they might end up.
Relief flowed through him that Christian had not taken the opportunity to dawdle.
Though his relief was short-lived as he watched her throw her head back with laughter at something Christian said.
His chest clenched tight.
“Nathanial.” Lady Astrid’s sharp tone broke through his reverie. She gave his arm a very unsubtle tug and an arched look. “You do not need to hesitate on Drake’s account.”
Momentarily confused, Nathanial only then realized that Drake was glaring at the two of them from a short ways away, still holding onto his horse’s reins.
He knew Drake knew that Nathanial was not trying to poach.
If anything, he was probably annoyed Lady Astrid had claimed Nathanial’s arm rather than giving Drake the opportunity to take his rightful place.
For someone who did not want to marry the lady, he could be remarkably stringent about his position at her side when they were forced to be in each other’s proximity.
“Yes, well.” Nathanial cleared his throat, relieved that Lady Astrid was so preoccupied with her fiancé, she had attributed Nathanial’s distraction to Drake as well and not to the incoming curricle.
Now that Christian and Kalina had arrived, there was no further reason to delay.
“What can I do for you, my lady?” he asked, turning toward the direction Tiffany and Gregory had gone. The couple was only a little way ahead of them, leaning in toward each other as they walked. The faint sound of Tiffany’s giggles floated on the breeze that ruffled Lady Astrid’s skirts.
“The matchmaker I have coming this afternoon. I want you to meet with her. I think she will be able to help you find a bride who not only meets your requirements but also suits you personally,” Lady Astrid replied, her tone softening now that she was no longer glaring at her betrothed.
“You deserve more than a large dowry; you deserve someone you can rub along comfortably with or perhaps even discover finer feelings for.”
Miss Little’s face flashed through his mind, and he ruthlessly pushed the image out, telling himself that he was only imagining hearing her laughter. Surely, he and Lady Astrid had walked too far for that to be possible.
“You think a matchmaker will be able to help me with that?” he asked, trying to keep the skepticism in his tone to a minimum. He did not want to insult Lady Astrid, after all.
“I think this matchmaker will,” she said, patting his arm. The confidence in her voice made him wonder if perhaps she was correct.
“Very well, if you are convinced.”
He could hardly do worse than listen to what this matchmaker had to say. One thing he would have to do was make it very clear that Miss Little—no matter how well-dowered and no matter how well they got on—was not an option.