Chapter Fifteen #2
Emilia turned to her husband with a grin. “Why did you not tell me that name was an option?”
“Because it isn’t.” At the moment, Nathaniel seemed very likely to either crawl under the table to hide, or launch himself across it to flatten Lord Blackburn. “Oliver has never been one to adhere to the rules of propriety.”
“This is true,” Oliver admitted, adopting a mildly more sober air. “I seldom call anyone by their given name. I am more inclined to assign my own to those of whom I am particularly fond of.” He offered Nathaniel a smile and a wink.
“If they are a sign of affection, I am surprised you have not yet assigned one to your wife,” Nathaniel challenged.
“Oh, I have.” Oliver graced the entire table with a wickedly charming grin. “Just not one I shall use in polite company.”
“Oliver Blackburn!” Grace’s face flushed, and Emilia felt the heat rising in her own cheeks as she fought a smile.
Nathaniel sighed heavily as he pushed his chair back from the table, choosing surrender. “I believe it is time to allow the ladies to retire to the drawing room.”
His tone left no room for argument, and Emilia and Grace silently stood from their chairs. Oliver leaned over to place a small kiss on his wife’s still rosy cheek as she passed by; the irritation on her face quickly gave way to a soft smile at his affection.
Emilia began to follow her, but stopped at the feeling of a hand on her back. She turned to find Nathaniel at her side. His agitation had seemed to subside some when he looked at her, but she could see the tension clinging to the corners of his eyes.
“If you have had your fill of company this evening, I can send them home,” he whispered softly against her ear.
Emilia braced herself against the small shiver that ran down her back. Except when they had been pressed up together in the shrubs in the Beckley’s hedge maze, she had never stood this close to him before. He had the same effect on her now as he did then.
She cleared her throat and shook her head. “I would like some more time to get to know Grace, if that is alright with you,” she said, noticing the drop in his shoulders as she took a step back.
“Of course,” he smiled, but it fell quickly. “I will take Oliver to the study and give you a chance to talk. We will join you later.”
She nodded as she moved to join Grace, but she could feel Nathaniel’s gaze on her as they walked down the hallway.
∞∞∞
“Would you care to explain why you were interrogating my wife?” The door to his study had barely shut, but Nathaniel couldn’t hide his frustration for a moment longer.
“I was not interrogating her,” Oliver replied, completely at ease. “I was simply asking her questions.”
“Do you not know what an interrogation is?”
Oliver laughed as he made his way to the newly stocked bar cart that sat beside Nathaniel’s desk. If Oliver was going to insist on spending so much time here, Nathaniel had decided he might as well make a show of being a proper host.
“Interrogations are usually conducted when the questions are meant to lead to a certain conclusion. I was simply asking for curiosity’s sake.
” Oliver looked over his shoulder at Nathaniel, arching a brow.
“Am I not allowed to be curious about the woman my dearest friend has found himself married to?”
Nathaniel slowly lowered himself into one of the chairs situated by the fireplace.
He rubbed a hand slowly over his face, letting the warmth from the fire slowly melt the tension from his body.
He could not blame Oliver for being curious.
Nathaniel knew he would have responded the same way had Oliver married a complete stranger rather than Grace.
“Is there a reason you do not want me asking questions?” Oliver asked, breaking the silence.
Nathaniel let his hand drop as he stared silently into the fire, searching for the right answer. It wasn’t the questions that had made Nathaniel uneasy, but Emilia’s answers.
“Nathaniel…” Oliver sat in the chair across from him. “Is there something you need to talk about?”
Nathaniel shook his head. A duke did not burden other people with his problems, but he knew Oliver well enough to know that he would not leave him alone until he was given some sort of answer.
“I may have asked a few questions of my own.”
The admission felt heavy on his tongue, but Oliver seemed unfazed.
“That is understandable,” he shrugged. “Did you get any answers?”
Nathaniel nodded slowly. His mouth suddenly felt dry. He licked his lips, hoping it would make the words slip out more easily. “I asked Fawley to make some inquiries about Lord Moorfield. His findings led him to make inquiries more directly related to Emilia.”
“And?”
“There are a few discrepancies from what she has shared,” Nathaniel sighed.
He had read over the papers his solicitor had sent countless times since they were delivered to him the week before.
At first, nothing had struck him as particularly disturbing until he had begun to put the different pieces of information together, along with what he had learned from his wife directly.
He had been trying to find a way to broach the subject with her for days, and now Oliver’s line of questioning had only deepened his confusion and concern.
“Like what?” Oliver asked.
“She told you that she has no siblings, but Fawley found navy records for her brother, Lieutenant Alexander Talbot.”
Oliver leaned back in his chair, a crease forming in his brow. “That is odd. If Moorfield took her in after her parents’ death, would he not have taken the boy too?”
Nathaniel shrugged; he had been trying to answer that very question himself for nearly a week. “Based on the records, he is a few years older than her, but not old enough to have already been in service when his parents died.”
“Perhaps she did not know him,” Oliver said, his voice heavy with concern. “She said she has no siblings. Is the brother still alive?”
Nathaniel huffed, “That is the question. Fawley said there has been no record of him in nearly three years. It is believed he was killed during a campaign in Spain, yet there is no formal record of his death. There are also rumors of desertion.”
“I am sure it was simply overlooked. We have only just emerged from a war,” Oliver replied. “What reason would she have to lie about her brother?”
Nathaniel shook his head. From what he could gather, Emilia’s father had allowed numerous debts to accumulate before his death.
If he had a son to inherit the title after him, it was no surprise that the boy had entered the navy to earn a living for himself—but why would Emilia have kept him a secret?
“If he is a deserter, then she has plenty of reason.”
“What are you insinuating?” Oliver leaned in closer.
Nathaniel shook his head, just as desperate to know the answer as Oliver seemed to be. “I do not know.”
“Do you believe that she somehow orchestrated this marriage to use your influence to pardon her brother, if he is in fact on the run?”
“No,” Nathaniel answered honestly. He had considered that, but the more he pondered the possibility, the less sense it made. If it were a case of trapping him in a marriage for his power and position, Lord Moorfield would have been much more eager.
“But you do think she is hiding something.”
Nathaniel’s chest tightened at Oliver’s question—someone was hiding something—whether it was Emilia or her uncle, he didn’t know, and he had not yet decided if he wanted to.
“I can not think at all,” Nathaniel admitted, rising from his chair to pace the room. “When I am around her, I can barely even breathe. I have tried to keep my distance, but every time she is in the room, I can not help but be drawn to her.”
Oliver’s concern slowly melted away. “I do not think anyone would fault you for that, Nathaniel. You married a very kind and lovely woman.”
Nathaniel leaned his hands against the hearth, his face lowered to the fire, desperate to feel anything but the chilling doubt that had begun to take root in his heart.
“Beware of the beautiful but deadly mermaid,” he muttered.
“What did you say?” Oliver asked, standing from his own chair.
“Nothing.” Nathaniel turned away, hoping that for once his friend would not push him for answers.
“You said mermaid.” Oliver followed as Nathaniel crossed the room to his desk.
“If you heard what I said, I fail to see why you asked.”
“To give you a chance to explain.” Oliver perched himself on the corner of the desk. “When you told me of your first encounter with Emilia, though quite eventful, you failed to mention the presence of fins when you pulled her from the Thames.”
“I am not suggesting that Emilia is a mermaid!”
Oliver’s arms crossed over his chest with a chuckle, “That at least is reassuring.”