Chapter Seven
All week, Nathaniel couldn’t stop thinking about Louise. Now, as he rode in a hackney, his mind couldn’t help but wander to the ball and their dances. The moment he insinuated that his kiss was a ploy to win the competition, he knew he had wounded her deeply. Even worse, he had lied about his intentions. Winning the competition was the last thing on his mind. He was captivated by her, the intimacy, the simmering passion he glimpsed in her eyes, and his own growing desire.
For the last week, sleep had eluded him, leaving him with nothing but the image of the pain he had caused her. And when he finally did sleep, it was the memory of the kiss that he woke to. When he looked into the mirror to trim his beard, it was her pained expression that looked back at him, and he hated himself even more.
Torn by remorse and uncertainty, he agonized over what to do next. He accepted that perhaps the best course of action was to give Louise time. He couldn’t be sure she would even agree to see him, but he was willing to wait, hoping for another chance to make amends.
Nathaniel made the difficult decision. Rather than see Louise immediately and resolve the issue he decided to postpone their next meeting. He penned a note to Bessie mentioning a pressing family matter concerning his father. Now, Nathaniel found himself preparing to accompany Louise and Bessie to the Devonshire Gallery as they had planned. He hoped for an opportunity to repair the rift between Louise and himself.
When this challenge was over, he would speak to Bessie and decide how to proceed. He could always have her find Louise a match. Of course, he would pay all the expenses as long as she never knew of his part. But that didn’t ease his guilt. The thought of her with someone else was too painful to contemplate.
The hackney navigated the streets, eventually arriving at Cleveland Row.
The masked ball was meant to be a mere diversion, an opportunity for light-hearted interaction and socializing across social lines. Yet, as Nathaniel found himself drawn to Louise, his emotions grew increasingly turbulent. He couldn’t quite comprehend the feeling—a mixture of longing, fascination, and something deeper that he dared not acknowledge.
With each fleeting glance exchanged between them, Nathaniel felt a tremor of uncertainty ripple through him. He was shaken by the intensity of his attraction to her, a woman whose life appeared to be worlds apart from his own. The rational part of him urged caution, warning against the folly of pursuing such a connection.
He toyed with the idea of ending the wager, of putting an end to this dangerous game before it spiraled out of control.
But as he weighed his options, he realized that he couldn’t simply walk away. He had his goal, his experiment to prove—that love, the highest personal connection, could flourish between individuals from different strata of society. It was a challenge he had set for himself, a quest to defy the constraints of society and prove that true love knew no bounds. And so, he pushed aside his doubts and fears. He would see this wager through to the end, no matter the cost. For in the midst of uncertainty and turmoil, one thing remained clear: his feelings for Louise were undeniable, and he was willing to risk everything to explore the depths of their connection.
Louise waited forNathaniel in the small downstairs anteroom next to the foyer.
“You should always wear emerald green. You look striking in that gown.”
Louise turned around, her skirt swirling and landing gracefully in a flourish that accentuated her narrow waist. Bessie’s sudden entrance startled her; however, it wasn’t an unexpected arrival that caught her off guard, but the attire Bessie had chosen. She wore the claret gown Louise had made for her.
“And you look wonderful in your gown.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you cajoled me and that I had the good sense to let you talk me out of not accepting it. It’s perfect for tonight.” Bessie took a seat while Louise gazed out the window. The street was quiet. In the distance, she heard the sound of an approaching carriage.
“I haven’t seen much of you this week. Were you avoiding me?” Bessie’s voice was a whisper.
Louise held her breath. The woman sounded… she searched for the word. The only one that came to mind was disappointed. She turned and faced her.
“Of course not,” Louise said, seeing the woman’s soft, pained expression. “I have no reason to hide from you.”
“You underestimate yourself as well as your worth. If I feared anything, it wouldn’t be you hiding from me. It would be my misjudgment of you.” Bessie adjusted her skirt. “I pride myself in being able to judge people. I do not like to be wrong, and I know I am not wrong about you. If you weren’t afraid of me, then why were you avoiding me all week?”
Louise’s eyes widened, and the corners of Bessie’s mouth tilted up ever so slightly. Louise couldn’t hide anything from this woman.
“If you must know, I let my emotions get out of control at the masked ball and… I couldn’t face you.”
“Why? Because you kissed a very handsome man whose company you enjoy? Did you see anyone point a finger at you? Turn away from you? Make a comment? Were either of you mentioned in the broadside?” Bessie waited and gave Louise time for her to understand her meaning. “No. Other than enjoying a lovely show of affection, no one held it against you or Nathaniel. And that was the point of the challenge. You do not find that restraint, that coldness, any place other than the ton.
“At La Femme à la Mode, as you assisted the women and altered their gowns, you listened to them and heard how they must stifle their feelings and actions. The rules are for the women, not the men, I assure you. They have mistresses. It’s accepted, even encouraged. However, if a woman allows a man to touch her hand, she’s shunned. And heaven forbid she speak her mind.” She paused and said softly, “Or say no to her husband.”
“You were correct when you said we were very good actors—at least Nathaniel was. I misjudged his intentions. I’m not as astute as you give me credit for. I thought, as you, that his feelings were genuine. He assured me that he kissed me to secure winning the dance challenge, nothing more.”
“And you believed him?”
Louise gave her a blank stare.
“He has suffered a betrayal once before, a serious one. Those hurts are difficult to forget. I suspect he has feelings for you, and it frightens him,” Bessie was silent for a few minutes.
“I also have found that many people with whom one is supposed to socialize are not necessarily the people one would choose for a partner. Many, not all, are frauds. Some of your very fine ladies, one for whom you and Madame Pembroke make beautiful gowns, turns up her nose at me. She crosses to the other side of the street when I approach. Ah, but how she aches for a golden ticket to my annual masquerade.
“As for Nathaniel, he needs to come to terms with what he truly wants and if he is willing to go after it.” She laughed softly as she stood and gathered her reticule. “Men. They can make things so difficult.”
There was a gentle knock before Theseus opened the door. “The carriage has arrived.”
“Thank you, Theseus.” Bessie turned to Louise. “I certainly believe there is a time and place for everything. Do you trust me?”
Louise looked at her. “Yes, very much so.”
“Excellent. Come. Put on your mask. We shouldn’t keep our host waiting.”
That Bessie allowed her to see a part of her that she kept private was a gift. How that rejection must have stung. Louise pulled on her gloves. She suspected that when the Colonel, Bessie’s beloved husband, passed away, many of the people who dined at her home no longer came to call nor invited her to theirs. How insulting and hurtful. All because she wasn’t one of them. Perhaps Nathaniel concluded that she wasn’t one of his kind.
With her mask and gloves on and her reticule in hand, she and Bessie left the anteroom. Theseus escorted them to the waiting carriage.
“Good evening, ladies.” Nathaniel’s hand brushed the brim of his top hat. “I will be the envy of every man at the gallery. My arms will be filled with the two most beautiful women in London.”
Bessie rolled her eyes at him.
Who was he, really? What did she know about him besides his given name, his soft, passionate lips, his dancing ability, and a disappointing liaison? He may be coming to grips with what he wanted, but so was she. For her own protection, it would be best for her to keep him at a distance from her heart for the rest of the project.
Nathaniel assisted them into the coach. She sat next to Bessie and gazed out the window.
When Bessie approached her with the challenge, she thought she had been fortunate. The project appeared interesting, as well as harmless, with the added benefit of an increased income. If she were honest with herself, Bessie’s generosity had already secured all of Christina’s schooling with extra for her parents.
She glanced at Nathaniel. This challenge came with a heavy personal cost. One she had not been aware of and, at this point, needed to contain.
Silly girl. He kissed you to win a contest. Louise May Hartfield, you were too easily charmed. Look at him. She gave him a side glance. He is not the son of a chimney sweep or a merchant. He is better educated and far above your station.
She was grateful for the mask she wore. There was no need for her to paste a meaningless smile on her face. There was no doubt in her mind that she could go through the exhibit and not be distracted by Nathaniel. She would make sure she wasn’t.
The carriage came to a stop. When Louise glanced, she noticed that they were waiting in the queue. They had arrived at the Devonshire Gallery.
At ten o’clock,amidst the lavish backdrop of a grand art exhibition, where society’s elite mingled and marveled at the finest works of the era, the third challenge unfolded. Bessie orchestrated this intricate dance of secrets, a test of wit, charm, and discretion.
Bessie, Nathaniel, and Louise made their way into the main gallery, where they each received flutes of champagne. As Nathaniel and Louise sipped their libations and glided through the elegant gallery, Bessie leaned in to explain what was to happen.
“In this challenge,” she whispered, “you must explore the private gallery, engage with the art, and discern the hidden meanings behind each piece.” She turned to Nathaniel. “Don’t discuss the exhibit in advance. It’s best to have no preconceived notions. You want to get the full impact of each piece.”
Nathaniel understood the importance of experiencing art with an open mind. Still, he couldn’t help but worry about Louise’s reaction as he considered the provocative art they were about to encounter.
“For this challenge, Crispin will escort Louise. Nathaniel, you and I will observe.”
Nathaniel stopped in his tracks, both women still on his arms.
“Is there something wrong?” Bessie asked, a tinge of annoyance in her voice.
He knew Crispin all too well. He would make Louise as uncomfortable as possible.
“Yes. I am Louise’s partner. The challenge is to observe reactions, not to make Louise or me uncomfortable. So, Bessie, I will be Louise’s partner, or you will forfeit the challenge at great cost.”
His concern for her comfort and well-being ran deep. There was more to this art than the shock of what it represented. He wanted this challenge to be an opportunity for… Who was he fooling? He didn’t want to leave her with Crispin, who famously used up a woman and went on to the next.
He was also aware that to be successful in this challenge, they had to not only demonstrate their ability to discern hidden meanings of the artwork but also their emotional connection to the art and the people around them. No one was going to have an emotional connection with Louise other than him.
“Louise, do you object to Nathaniel being your escort for this challenge?”
“Am I observing the challenge, or am I to be observed?”
“You make a very good point.” Bessie left her question unanswered and turned toward Nathaniel. “Crispin has been most clever.” She glanced at Louise’s empty glass and motioned to a footman to refill it. “Masks are worn as everyone prefers to remain anonymous. You can’t be too careful among the gossips. He’s given each couple an appointed time to visit his private gallery. You both are next.”
Nathaniel glanced at Louise as she finished her champagne, her cheeks flushed. He quickly glanced at Bessie. Louise’s nerves must have gotten the best of her. He let out a deep sigh, realizing Bessie had been plying Louise with champagne.
“I’m looking forward to seeing the artwork. I enjoy visiting museums, although I must admit, I’ve never been to this one.” Louise held out her empty glass to the footman for him to refill it. A third time. He offered Nathaniel more champagne, but he graciously declined.
Bessie smiled sweetly while he cringed. Louise had proven her mettle in the previous two challenges, and as they waited, he became more determined to speak to Bessie about finding Louise a match.
Louise took a sip from her glass and licked her lips.
“Louise, perhaps—” Nathaniel began.
“You should finish your champagne,” Bessie nodded, encouraging her to finish her drink. “I see Crispin motioning that he’s ready to escort you to his private gallery.”
Nathaniel gave Bessie a scathing glare and gently took the glass from Louise. “We’d best be on our way before someone claims our time.” He downed the rest of her drink and put the empty glass on a nearby table.
“How gallant,” Bessie whispered to him. “You’ll thank me later. I’m sure.”
Still glaring at Bessie, he gave Louise his arm and headed toward Crispin across the room.
“I had the impression that you didn’t drink,” he said, remembering quite clearly that she turned down every glass offered to her during the card challenge.
“I’m not fond of wine or drink, but I would like to know how that fizzy fruity drink is made. It’s sweet and tart at the same time.”
“It’s made with champagne and grenadine.”
She gave a nod of understanding but said nothing.
They stopped by Crispin, who was speaking to another couple.
Louise turned to Nathaniel and stared into his eyes.
A small smile touched his lips as he took a breath and glanced down at the floor.
Louise leaned closer to him and whispered, “It was delicious.”
Not as delicious as her kiss. He tilted his head and gazed into her eyes. They were soft and smoky. Her defenses were down. Her comment wasn’t a tease. No. She was sincere and very much herself, which made her all the more appealing. He stared at her lips and, for a moment, wanted to taste again how delicious they were.
“Nathaniel. Louise.” Crispin stood next to them.
Louise glanced at the art collector.
“I hope I wasn’t interrupting?” Crispin’s predatory smile widened.
Nathaniel was certain Crispin saw the gleam in Louise’s eyes and decided not to make a scene, at least not at the moment.
“There are three major pieces of art for you to study: a painting, a sculpture, and a tapestry. There are also other items for you to enjoy. You are the last guests in the private gallery, so take as long as you like.”
Crispin gestured for them to go down the hall.
Louise glanced at him. “Have you been to this museum before? You appear to know where you’re going.”
Louise’s question hung in the air as Nathaniel hesitated, conflicted about how to answer. He was one of Crispin’s supporters when he was creating the gallery. He had indeed been here before but was hesitant to admit it. Would he give too much away about himself? Possibly scare her away? He chose his words carefully.
“Yes, I’ve been here before,” he said with a half-smile, “but with each exhibit, it’s like a new experience. Art has a way of revealing something different with every viewing, don’t you agree?”