Chapter 17 #2
It was too late. Christian had already whirled his horse’s head around, and now he was the one galloping away from Nathanial. Running away from the truths he had not wanted to face and which Nathanial had not meant to throw at him. Closing his eyes, Nathanial took in a deep breath.
He wished Christian had not followed him out here.
But it was too late.
Too late for so many things.
Letting out the breath, Nathanial gave himself a little shake. Then he turned Caspian’s head in the opposite direction from where Christian had gone.
He was alone.
Just like he wanted.
Giving the gelding his head again, Nathanial let the world rush by him in a blur of green and brown and yellow. The sun beat down on him, but with the wind in his face, he did not feel the heat.
By the time he turned around and headed back toward the manor, he was feeling marginally better.
Part of him wanted to find Christian and apologize…
but he was also aware of the apology owed to himself.
No, he should not have said what he’d said, but he also would have never said it if Christian had not pushed him so far.
If he had not felt as though Christian was taking Miss Little’s side over his.
Still.
He would apologize.
Now that the bitter edge of rage had been taken off, he mostly felt tired. He did not want to be quarreling with one of his friends in addition to everything else.
“Nathanial!” Christian’s voice came from behind him, and Nathanial pulled Caspian up, half turning in the saddle.
Cantering up behind him was Christian, smiling widely, as he always did.
“How was your ride?” Christian asked as he drew level, slowing his horse to a walk.
He spoke again before Nathanial could answer, as if he had not just asked a question, his demeanor aggressively cheerful.
“I found a lovely little field filled with bluebells. We should arrange an excursion there tomorrow if we have the time.”
Ah, so it was going to be like that. Nathanial heaved an inner sigh. How very like Christian to ride off, then return, acting as though nothing had happened. It made everything much easier, yet harder, too. Part of him also wanted to ignore the necessary apology and just carry on.
“I have a feeling I will be busy,” Nathanial replied dryly. “Perhaps after I leave, you can lead the charge.”
“Tomorrow?” Christian raised his eyebrow in question. “That is quick.”
Nathanial shrugged.
“No sense in waiting.” And he wanted to get it over with. The more it dragged out, the harder it was going to be to keep his temper under control. He’d told Christian that his choices had been taken from him, but the truth was they’d narrowed again to a single choice—when he was to wed.
He wanted to get it done with, then he would have more choices again once he was married.
That was part of what he’d realized on his ride once he’d had some time to think. Marrying Miss Little meant he could take control over aspects of his life that he had not previously had control over. That was the upside. Almost enough to soothe his rage over how it had been done.
However, he would have to wait and see how it affected his sisters’ prospects before he could fully settle with the warring emotions inside him.
Clearing his throat, he glanced over at Christian.
“I need to apologize—”
“As do I. I apologize as well. There, now you apologized, and I apologized, and we need not speak of it again.” The serene expression on Christian’s face, the evenness of his tone, carried a warning.
Nathanial sighed, exasperated. He had not actually apologized, but he also knew that pressing Christian further would only lead to the other man riding off again. Running was Christian’s favored method of dealing with anything he found even the slightest bit uncomfortable.
He should have expected this reaction.
“Do you think there will be pudding this evening?” Christian asked, the question appearing to be the only thing on his mind as he looked up at the sky. “I could do with a good pudding.”
“I am sure you could,” Nathanial replied wryly.
They finished the ride up the drive. Feeling eyes on him, Nathanial looked up at the front face of the manor.
In one of the windows, a floor above his own, there was a silhouette, barely visible.
He was rather forcibly reminded of how he and Matthew had watched Miss Little and her family arrive from very nearly that same position.
If he’d known then what he knew now about their plans for this house party, would he have run?
He certainly would not have accepted any drinks from Mr. Little.
Was it Miss Little watching him now?
Was she feeling triumphant? Or had she begun to regret what her actions had wrought?
He supposed it did not matter. They would both be living with the consequences of those actions for the rest of their lives.
Grimly setting his jaw, Nathanial dropped his gaze and determinedly did not look up again as he and Christian rode past the house toward the stables. Tomorrow, once Drake returned with the special license, he would be married to her.
Plenty of couples married under less-than-ideal circumstances.
One way or another, he would find a way to live with it.
He had no other choice.