Chapter 25
Nathaniel felt much lighter as he moved through the narrow hall of Eliza's home.
The house smelled faintly of lavender and warm bread. Someone had recently opened the windows. When he reached the sitting room door, he paused briefly before knocking.
“Come in.”
Eliza sat near the window, sunlight falling across the embroidery hoop in her hands. She looked up the moment he entered, and the relief on her face appeared before she could hide it.
“Nathaniel.”
He crossed the room and took her hands gently before she could rise.
“You should remain seated.”
“I am not fragile.”
“You are recovering from your exhaustion.”
“As are you, it would seem,” she noted as she looked at him.
It was true. Since he had spoken with Margaret, he had felt much better about himself, as well as his marriage. Of course, she did not yet know where he was, but in the grand scheme of things that did not seem to matter as much.
She gave him a small smile and set the embroidery aside. Time had softened some of the strain she had carried when he first brought her here, though the months had not been easy.
He took the chair opposite her.
“How have you been feeling?”
“Better,” she said. “The physician was here again yesterday.”
“And?”
“He is satisfied.”
Nathaniel inclined his head slightly.
“Good.”
A brief silence settled between them. Outside, a breeze stirred the branches near the window.
“I hear London is still speaking of you,” Eliza said.
“London always speaks.”
“And of your wife.”
He did not immediately respond.
“I hope you have not frightened her away already,” she added lightly.
“She remains.”
“That sounds like praise.”
“It is. In fact, I can tell you that we are much happier now.”
Eliza watched him with interest that made him slightly wary.
“I should like to see her again soon.”
“That may be arranged.”
“You say that as though you are still deciding whether it is wise.”
“I am.”
“She already knows about me.”
“Yes.”
“And she still married you.”
“Yes.”
Eliza’s expression softened.
“Then she must be remarkable.”
Nathaniel did not argue the point. He knew just what it meant. Eliza shifted slightly in her chair, adjusting the shawl around her shoulders.
“There is another matter,” she said.
“What matter?”
“The arrangements.”
He looked at her more closely.
“What arrangements?”
She hesitated only a moment.
“For my marriage. You told me that you wanted me to find a man eventually.”
Nathaniel leaned back slightly in his chair.
“I was not aware that you had come around to the idea.”
“I had not, but then I met a gentleman.”
“And who might that be?”
“A gentleman who has agreed to the situation that I am in. We need not question that further.”
Nathaniel’s expression remained calm, though his mind began working through the implications.
“Do you trust him?”
“I do.”
“And he understands everything?”
“Yes.”
“And he accepts it.”
“He does.”
Nathaniel studied her carefully.
“This was not decided alone.”
“No,” she admitted. “But I was consulted.”
“And you are content?”
Eliza held his gaze steadily.
“I will be safe,” she said. “And my child will be safe. That is more than I expected months ago.”
He nodded slowly.
“When will this occur?”
“Soon.”
“How soon?”
“A few weeks. I have wanted to tell you, but I knew you had troubles of your own.”
Nathaniel absorbed that without an outward reaction.
“You should have informed me sooner.”
“I wished to be certain before raising your hopes.”
“My hopes are rarely raised.”
She smiled faintly at that.
“You have carried enough for me already,” she said. “I thought you deserved good news for once.”
Nathaniel considered her words in silence. Outside, the afternoon light had begun to shift.
“If this gentleman fails you,” he said finally, “he will regret it.”
“I know.”
“And if he proves worthy–”
“He will have our gratitude,” she finished gently.
Nathaniel rose from his chair. Eliza watched him with quiet affection.
“You worry less now,” she said.
“I worry differently.”
“Because of her.”
He did not answer immediately.
“Yes,” he said at last.
Eliza’s smile returned, softer this time.
She watched him with quiet patience after his answer.
Nathaniel had already moved toward the window, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked out across the small garden.
The afternoon had softened into that gentle hour before evening when shadows lengthened and the world slowed.
“I am glad,” she said after a moment.
“For what?”
“That your burden is easing.”
“It is not yet finished.”
“But it soon will be.” She tilted her head slightly. “Once I am settled, you will not need to hide me here.”
“That is the intention.”
“And then?”
Nathaniel did not answer immediately, for in truth he did not know. Eliza studied him carefully.
“Then you may begin living again.”
“I have never stopped.”
“You know what I mean.”
Eliza folded her hands in her lap. He had changed how he lived, but that had not entirely been her fault. He had to shoulder the blame in equal measure.
“I hope my husband looks at me the way that you look at your wife,” she said suddenly.
“I do not know what you mean.”
“I saw it,” she continued gently. “When she spoke to the servants. When she crossed the room. You follow her with your eyes as though you cannot help it.”
“That is merely your imagination.”
“No it is not. You may think yourself subtle, but you are not.”
“I have no interest in discussing sentiment.”
“Perhaps that is the problem.”
Nathaniel turned fully toward her now.
“My marriage,” he said evenly, “exists because circumstances demanded it.”
“Yes.”
“It solved a scandal.”
“I am more than aware.”
“It ensured your safety.”
“As well as your own, but that is not how you speak of her.”
“And how do I speak of her?”
He said it in a harsher tone than she deserved, but he could not help it. He was more than aware of the fact that he found his wife endearing, and that he had promised to make an effort, but that did not mean that he could love her.
He did not know what love looked like, and he certainly did not know how to be the man she deserved.
“You speak of her as though you love her,” Eliza explained. “And it is nice to see after what happened with–”
She stopped herself, but the damage was done.
“I told you not to talk about them anymore.”
“But Nathaniel, surely you see that–”
“Enough. I arranged this marriage so Margaret’s reputation would not be destroyed. I hid you so that society would not tear you apart. I carried both burdens without complaint, but it was not out of love.”
“I know that,” Eliza said quietly. “It was duty.”
“Do you know it?” His tone hardened further. “Because it seems you have forgotten what was required.”
“I have forgotten nothing.”
“Then you should remember the cost.”
Silence filled the room for a moment.
“Eliza,” he said, his voice still tight, “love is a luxury I cannot afford.”
Her expression softened in a way that somehow irritated him further.
“You say that,” she replied gently.
“It is the truth.”
“You do not act as though it is.”
“That is irrelevant.”
Eliza blinked.
“You cannot protect me the way you do and then think kindness is dangerous.”
“I think attachment clouds decisions.”
“And distance solves that?”
“It prevents greater harm.”
Eliza was silent for several seconds.
“You are angry with me for noticing, but that does not change a thing.”
Nathaniel exhaled sharply. He did not want to be angry with his sister, nor so terribly unkind, but it was the only way he knew to make her stop.
She had never been hopeful before, and though he always thought that he would be pleased to see it, he suddenly realized that her being happy meant that she would want him to feel the same way.
Eliza straightened slightly.
“I am grateful to you.”
“Then trust that I know what is required.”
“I trust you,” she said softly. “I simply hoped you might trust yourself.”
Nathaniel’s patience broke completely.
“I did not marry Margaret for romance,” he said, voice rising again. “I married her because it was necessary. That remains the truth regardless of your apparent observations.”
“That is not the only truth.”
Eliza looked at him sadly. Nathaniel turned sharply away.
“I will not risk her future,” he said, already moving toward the door, “because you prefer hopeful interpretations.”
The door opened abruptly beneath his hand.
“Your marriage is safe,” he said without looking back. “Your future is secured. That was my responsibility.”
“And Margaret?”
Nathaniel paused for only a moment.
“She will never suffer for my mistakes.”
Then he left. The door shut behind him with more force than he intended. Nathaniel strode down the narrow hall toward the waiting carriage, anger still burning sharp in his chest.
Love, Eliza had said. He gripped his gloves tightly as the carriage door closed behind him.
Love had never been part of the arrangement, and he intended to keep it that way.
The ride back from the small house beyond London had done little to settle his temper. The carriage wheels had turned steadily through the fading afternoon, but his thoughts had remained sharp and restless.
By the time Ravensmere House appeared beyond the trees, dusk had begun to gather across the grounds. A footman opened the carriage door before he had fully descended.
“Your Grace.”
Nathaniel removed his gloves slowly.
“Is the Duchess within?”
The footman hesitated.
“Not at present, Your Grace.”
Nathaniel’s brow lowered slightly.
“Not at present?”
“Mrs. Hill may know where she is, Your Grace, but I do not.”
Nathaniel stepped into the entrance hall, the familiar quiet greeting him as it always did. Mrs. Hill appeared almost immediately, as though she had anticipated the question.
“You have returned, Your Grace.”
“Yes.” He handed her his gloves. “Where is my wife?”
Mrs. Hill accepted them without comment.
“Her Grace is near the stables.”
“Alone?”