Chapter Fourteen
Nathaniel’s heart raced with a combination of anticipation and trepidation as he headed toward the entrance of the pavilion for a refreshment before continuing on to his destination. The late-day sunbathed the bustling area with gilded tones. The breeze brushed across the nearby Serpentine Lake, causing small ripples.
For most of the crowd, it was a joyous occasion—a careless respite. But not for Nathaniel. He was on his way to the Hyde Park Stables to observe the horses at their daily exercise. Amber Blaze would be racing next week against several who hadn’t yet been moved to Epsom Downs.
He was aware of their performance. Now, he wanted to observe how well-conditioned they were. He was most interested in their running style, which ones preferred to lead from the start, which ones hung back, which others stayed with the pack.
As he reached the pavilion’s double doors, Richard emerged, his tall frame cutting an impressive figure as he strode toward Nathaniel. Richard’s smile faded when he caught sight of his cousin,
“Nathaniel,” Richard said, his voice laced with surprise. “I didn’t expect you to be here. I was just going to the stable to join you. Come join me.”
“This is a welcome surprise. A quick drink, then we can go,” Nathaniel replied, pleased he had found Richard.
Richard inched down the crowded path away from the pavilion, taking Nathaniel with him.
“I was at the stable earlier. Did you see Spring Breeze?” Nathaniel asked as he slowed to a stop. “She’s built like Amber Blaze and has the same stamina. She might be our biggest competition.”
“Come on,” Richard encouraged, jostled by the crowd. He darted a nervous glance at the pavilion. “The stable boys should be taking the horses out for training. We wouldn’t want to miss anything.”
Nathaniel took a step or two and stopped. “Richard, we have plenty of time for a quick pint. Now, come along. My throat is parched from arguing with you.”
Nathaniel turned and, like a salmon going upstream, made his way through the crowd toward the pavilion. He hadn’t gone very far when he glanced over his shoulder and stopped. Richard hadn’t moved. He motioned for his cousin to follow. But he stood like one of the great stones at Stonehenge, immovable and silent.
Nathaniel walked back to him. Richard’s uneasy gaze was elsewhere. “You seem quite eager to be away from the pavilion.” Nathaniel was stymied. He glanced up at the pavilion and then back at his cousin. “Why?”
Richard chuckled awkwardly. There was an unaccustomed atmosphere of despair about Richard that made Nathaniel increasingly uneasy. Again, Nathaniel glanced at the pavilion.
“Indeed, Nathaniel, the gossip mongers are in full throat, and I want to be far away from them,” he confessed, his voice faltering ever so slightly. “I thought I would lose myself at the stable yard and enjoy the horse flesh and warm weather. It is warm for October.”
A flicker of suspicion darted across Nathaniel’s eyes, his lips pursed with growing frustration. “Richard, while I truly understand your desire to be far from the chin wagging, you usually listen and take it all in to tell us all about it later. You are a talking broadsheet,” Nathaniel countered, determined to get to the bottom of the issue. But his cousin hadn’t budged. “What are you hiding?”
Richard’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, his defenses crumbling under Nathaniel’s unwavering gaze. Richard’s voice turned into a hushed whisper.
“Nathaniel, you must understand—”
Nathaniel’s patience had reached its limits. “Enough!” he thundered, his voice echoing through the hushed crowd. “What are you withholding from me?”
Startled murmurs rippled through the crowd as several curious onlookers turned their attention toward Nathaniel.
Nathaniel followed Richard’s gaze, which was focused over his shoulder.
A woman’s eyes locked on Nathaniel’s. He saw the pain etched upon her face, a loss that had stripped her of her former radiance.
“Nathaniel, please, let me explain—” Richard pleaded.
But it was too late. Nathaniel was striding toward the entrance, his determined gait startling those in his path. He paid no attention to the confused stares as his footsteps grew louder with each step. His heart pounded against his chest in a bittersweet drumbeat.
Finally, Nathaniel reached the entrance, his eyes blazing. And just when he believed he could walk through the door and confront his past head-on, confront Elinor, Richard’s voice rose above the clamor.
“Elinor is holding court inside,” Richard’s words escaped in a rush, his note of caution and regret laced in his tone. “She’s returned to London from Ludlow, a widow. Mountjoy died of influenza in the late summer.”
The revelation hit Nathaniel like a physical blow. He felt nothing as he turned his gaze from Richard to the pavilion. Nathaniel’s eyes softened with sympathy but not lingering affection. For years, he had imagined a reunion of sorts, but nothing under these circumstances.
How many times had he relived their final meeting? How many times did he want to relieve himself of everything he felt and lay it at her feet? Not to ask forgiveness. On the contrary, to tell her…
Nathaniel took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and nodded to Richard.
“I was coming to find you. To let you know.”
“I thank you for that.” Nathaniel opened the door, stepped inside, and went to the reception area.
“I would never let you walk into such a situation.” Richard, at his side, handed him an ale. He didn’t have to ask why Richard stood by him. The man had seen him through the anger, disappointment, and the ton’s gossip all those years ago. Now, Nathaniel welcomed his strength.
He would face his past and confront the woman who had once broken his heart. But now, amidst Elinor’s misery, he wondered whether it was worth going over the past. To what end? Certainly, not reuniting. Never that.
He watched Elinor’s reaction as he and Richard walked in. She glanced around nervously, trying to avoid looking at him, while her gloved hands wrung in distress. Several women sat with her. Paragons of virtue, they would have you believe. Friends, yes, that’s what they called themselves. How they had doted on him after the scandal of their canceled wedding. However, he realized they had only wanted his explanation of what happened. That was when he left London. But here they were with her, consoling her, he assumed.
“Have you seen enough?” Richard gave Elinor a sharp glance, then stepped in front of Nathaniel, allowing Nathaniel to look over his shoulder and watch Elinor without it being obvious.
Nathaniel finished his ale. “Most definitely. Let’s go to…”
“The Lyon’s Den,” Richard offered.
Nathaniel stared at his cousin, a hint of a smile touching his lips, and nodded. Was his attraction to Louise so obvious? A revelation surfaced that produced a feeling, much like one he got when he first glanced at the cards he’d been dealt in whist and realized he had a winning hand.
Whispers of alternate fates and divergent paths brushed against his mind. In that tender moment, Nathaniel grasped the truth that had eluded him—the prospect of a marriage with Elinor would have denied him from ever meeting the enchanting Louise.
The what-ifs and maybes, like strokes of paint on an unfinished painting, unfolded before him. The laughter shared in the ballrooms, the glances laden with unspoken promises, the unforeseen challenges he and Louise raced to withstand side-by-side, and the kisses—all those precious fragments of time would have been lost.
Louise was not a mere chance encounter. She was a destiny intricately woven into the tapestry of his existence.
The revelation exploded in Nathaniel’s heart—an acknowledgment that his soul had found unexpected refuge with Louise. Fate had led him to a love more profound than the carefully laid plans society could ever have foretold. Or was that Bessie’s plan all along?