An Arrangement of Sorts Read online

  “I love him,” she whispered to herself, her heart swelling and breaking at the same time as she touched the glass. She loved them both, Nathan and Charles. She loved two men at the same time, with the same heart. She turned away from the window, buried her face into her hands, and sobbed.

  What was she going to do now?

  With a last wave to the squire and his family, all of whom had come outside to see them off, Nathan and Moira turned their horses back to the road they had tried to travel the day before. As yet, they had not spoken anything but pleasantries to each other, and Nathan, for one, was not in any hurry to change that.

  He had eventually come to the realization last night that the squire had been right; he had to let Moira go where she needed to. Because what he wanted did not matter anymore. He did not matter anymore. Only she did.

  It was a painful discovery, one that he was still reeling from, but even so, it was right.

  Sleep had come, but it had hardly been restful. He had woken with the same empty feeling he had gone to bed with, and it still remained. His head was muddled, and his body ached as if he had been dragged behind a wagon for several miles.

  He would have to be more careful with his behavior from here on out. He had to treat Moira as he would any other lady, and not as he had been.

  Looking over at her now, Nathan’s heart lurched a little harder than he would have liked. Though she was dressed very properly, and in fact, more nicely than she had been since that first day, something was not right. Some of the color had left her cheeks, and she stared almost blankly ahead of her, as if nothing ahead of them was worth pursuing. She looked resigned, but collected. There was an air of sadness about her, and he wanted to ask her about it.

  But he couldn’t.

  Distance. He had to maintain distance.

  He looked up at the bright sun in the morning sky and sighed softly. He knew his duty, and he would do it.

  But oh, how it stung.

  Moira could not even bear to look over at Nathan, though every sense she possessed was keenly tuned to him. She knew very well that she looked dreadful this morning, she had not needed Madeline to tell her so. She had assured her that fresh air and exercise and finding her husband would improve matters greatly, but she had no way of knowing if the sweet woman believed any of it. After seeing Nathan, how tired he looked, the way his face was fixed with a politeness that she instantly hated… she knew she had made the right decision.

  It was better to pretend nothing had happened. It would make things easier when faced with the actual decision that she would have to make. If she were objective and open, and not emotional and conflicted, then things would work out as they should.

  But once that decision was made, there would be no going back. Reaching Preston would change everything, but could she bear it?

  She scolded herself silently. Of course, she could bear it. She would have to, wouldn’t she? It was not as though she had a choice but to bear it. One can always bear what one must, even if one does not think there is strength enough to do so. Strength would find her, and she would endure.

  As much as she would prefer to completely ignore the man next to her, she could not. She had no desire for their last day together to be one of silence and pain. Surely, they could converse a little. Even strangers could find a topic on which to spend some time ruminating.

  She cleared her throat slightly before asking, “How did you sleep last night?”

  “Tolerably well,” he said with a smile she did not believe for one second. “Yourself?”

  “As well as can be expected,” she replied, not looking at him.

  Which was to say, not well at all, but he did not need to know that.

  “I think we were very fortunate in our hosts,” Moira said, changing the subject abruptly. Her tone somehow had reverted back to the polite, unaffected tone she had adopted when they had first met, which seemed oddly appropriate.

  Nathan nodded. “Yes, the squire and his family were very generous. I would like to do something to repay them.”

  Of course, he would. Moira’s eyes burned with the threat of tears, but she shook them off as best as she could. “Yes, that would be only right. I shall take care of that once we reach Preston and have settled.”

  A frustrated exhale escaped Nathan’s lips, and he glanced at her. “If you don’t mind, I would like to take that responsibility and privilege myself.”

  “Oh, but I…”

  “Please.”

  Moira met his eyes at last, and had no choice but to agree. “Very well then, if you insist.”

  “Thank you,” he said, turning his eyes to the road again. Then she heard him mutter, “It is about the only useful thing I will have done this entire cursed trip.”

  “That’s not true!” she protested, losing only a touch of her polite tone. “You have been invaluable, and…”

  “You have paid for everything,” he overrode without emotion or volume. “You have taken the lead in everything. It has all been your ideas, your words, your opinions, your fiancé, and your everything else. I was here purely for show.”

  “Stop,” Moira whispered, wishing he would not talk of himself in that manner, or of her in such harsh and derogatory tones.

  “Stop what?” he asked bitterly. “Stop telling the truth? Stop being an idiot? What?”

  “Stop,” she said again, tears threatening to rise and spill over.

  Nathan shook his head and let out a sound of irritation. “The sooner we get to Preston, the sooner all of this will be over,” he bit out, digging his heels into Mercury’s side and riding up ahead.

  Left behind and on her own, and having no desire to talk any more, Moira let her quiet tears fall as she rode Flora at the same steady pace. Had she somehow not made him feel useful on this excursion of theirs? He had to know how important he had been. She would have been lost without him, in more ways than one, and she doubted she would have ever made it this far intact. How could things go from so sweet during the dance the night before to so agonizing and angry now?

  Her tears came steadily, and her heart continued to break. What was she to do? Part of her longed to comfort Nathan, the other part held her back. If she put distance between them, things would be easier later. When it was time to say goodbye.

  Not easy, but easier.

  After all, he was the one in such a hurry to get there now. She knew the road would take her there eventually, but he was the one who was riding fast and hard towards it. If he wanted to be rid of her so swiftly and return to his pleasant existence before she had come into his life, then so be it. She could let him go far more easily if she knew he wanted it.

  And if his manners this morning were anything to go by, it was quite plain that he did.

  She would like to have pretended that thought did not bother her.

  But it did.

  It was some time later when Nathan reigned in Mercury a bit and turned him to face Moira as she rode in behind them. She had been so lost in thought, all surrounding him, that it took some time for her to notice him. When she finally did, her eyes widened slightly, but she covered the reaction with a smile so weak it was hardly a smile at all.

  And one look told her he did not believe it for a moment.

  “I think we should rest the horses for a time,” he said without fanfare or apology. “We will reach the city in a few hours, and I think they could use it.”

  Moira nodded and slid off of Flora before he could come over and assist her. She took the reins and pulled the horse into a path of green grass near a large tree. Nathan followed with Mercury, then set the hobbles on the horses. He stood there watching them as they grazed, while Moira took a seat against the tree, watching him.

  Where had their jovial friendship gone? She longed to make him laugh, or smile at the very least. But she did not know how. Suddenly she had lost her sense of humor and smiles were few and far between.

  Nathan stood with his hands on his hips, strong and defiant, but
his eyes and expression distant. He suddenly let out a gust of air and went to rub down the horses.

  From her position against the tree, Moira had an interesting view. Nathan brushed Mercury with ease and gentleness, murmuring softly to him. The flesh of the animal rippled in delight under his strong hands, and Moira found herself feeling a twinge of jealousy. The loving care and attention she was witnessing was once something that had been directed towards her, obviously in more appropriate ways. Though he stood perhaps only fifty feet away from her, Moira missed Nathan. She missed who she was with him. She missed who he was with her.

  She missed them.

  She had not spoken with him since his outburst, had not even attempted to. It was far too painful to pretend that this friendship of theirs could go on. And she greatly feared that if she spent too long with him, joking and teasing and laughing as they once had, he would see her feelings for him in her eyes.

  No, she would sit here and watch him openly, averting her eyes if he should catch her. There was safety in awkwardness, and less risk of being hurt. Less danger altogether.

  A soft smile played on his handsome face as he spoke to Mercury, and he rubbed the horse’s side in appreciation. He was so good with the animals, so gentle and caring, much the same as he was with people. Nathan was all that was good and right in the world, regardless of how low he thought himself.

  Were he a man of high rank or fortune, the women would have flocked around him. Moira, for one, couldn’t believe they were not already doing so. She hoped he would find a woman good enough for him, one that would appreciate the full measure of the man she would be so fortunate as to spend her life with. One whose children she would bear and raise. Who would hold her in the night.

  She swallowed back the flash of pain and jealousy and sighed. What was the use of thinking about Nathan’s future? It would only make things worse, and tempt that already fluttering part of her that was yearning to run full on at him and fling her body on his person, all the while crying, “Love me!” in the most pathetic of fashions.

  But that little, stubborn part of her was contained for the time being. She had grown quite accustomed to restraining it, but much more of these quiet moments of reflection and she might need to do something drastic, like slap herself. That would certainly attract Nathan’s attention.

  Flora, apparently not satisfied with being left out of Nathan’s ministrations, walked over to him, nudging his arm with her nose. Clever girl, Moira silently praised as Nathan laughed softly and turned to rub the horse’s nose, now speaking to her in those dulcet tones that Moira so envied.

  Envious of horses? The idea would have been laughable if it were not so very sad, and so painfully true.

  Nathan looked at her then, and instead of casting her eyes away as she meant to, she was helpless to resist the draw of the dark, mysterious depths of his gaze. He saw her watching him, and he stilled for only the briefest of moments, and then he smiled at her. A soft, gentle, warm smile in which she somehow found an apology, a reassurance, and an invitation all at once. Transfixed upon that smile as she was, she didn’t know if she could trust herself to go to him. Would she reveal everything with one look in those eyes? Would she find herself yet more tempted to toss everything to the wind and ride away with him?

  The thought terrified her. She didn’t know if she could take any more vulnerability as far as Nathan Hammond was concerned. She was already so weak in that area.

  He sensed her hesitation, and the smile deepened ever so slightly. Moira’s heart gave a little lurch in her chest and she considered again. What if it was the last moment they would have together? It was only a friendly gesture, a peace offering between them, a pleasant note on which to end.

  How could she refuse such a thing?

  She finally returned his smile and pushed to her feet. The flare of pleasure in his eyes immediately assured her that she had made the correct decision, if for no other reason than to prove to him that he was forgiven and she was still his friend. His happiness was all the reward she needed.

  He handed her a brush and together they set to work on Flora, working silently, but with smiles. It was an odd sort of synchrony they shared as they worked, her stroke, then his, long and even against the warm skin of the horse. She would be lying if she did not admit that having Nathan so close was the sweetest kind of torment.

  It would be so easy to turn around here and find herself in his arms, so easy to turn her head and brush her lips ever so softly across the stubble of that chiseled jaw. His scent enveloped her, taunted her, so strong at the moment that it was the most poignant of fragrances. The warmth of his body so near hers was a heady sensation, and she could only find peace in her mind by counting as high as she could as fast as she could. First in English. Then in French. Then back down again.

  Aloof as to her current state of frenzy, Nathan switched direction and brushed towards Flora’s flanks, while Moira continued along the neck. A cool breeze drifted between them, and Moira’s mental count became slower as her sense began to return. She allowed herself a nearly silent sigh of relief and mentally congratulated herself on her success.

  Just then, Nathan’s hand brushed against Moira’s, and ever so abruptly, the counting in her head came to a halt. She froze and looked at their hands, touching only by a small amount as they rested on the horse, and she felt Nathan still beside her. The sudden intensity of feeling was enough to take the breath out of her lungs and steal the warmth of her bones.

  She was transfixed by their hands together, hers seeming frail and delicate next to his larger and more weathered one. She remembered the way his warm hands had tenderly enveloped hers, bringing her comfort with their strength; the way they had gently squeezed hers in consolation; the way that hand had brushed so softly against her cheek as he kissed her that night, leaving a delicious tingling sensation in its wake. Even now, her skin prickled with the memory of it.

  Against her express wishes, her eyes turned to him, and found his trained on her, the power of them startling and disarming and dangerously alluring. A shaky breath caught in her throat and he heard it, those compelling eyes darting instantly to her lips. Suddenly, she felt the need to moisten them, but even her tongue could not move. He hardly breathed as he stared, then brought his eyes back up to hers. The torrent of emotions Moira was feeling was matched only by what she saw swirling in Nathan’s eyes.

  Now it was her turn to look to his lips, parted slightly and so near. Those lips had changed everything for her. What would it be like to taste them again, in earnest this time? Unconsciously, she found herself pulled towards him, drawn in as if by magic. Her eyes met his again, and she found herself completely lost, and she could not even mind being so.

  An irritated snort and scuffle of hooves from Flora broke the moment, and Moira hastily stepped back, severing the connection of their hands and averting her eyes instantly, her cheeks flaming. She rubbed an arm as if cold and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We should be going,” she said quietly, her voice not nearly as steady as she would have liked. “We need to reach Preston before dark.” She bit her lip, and chanced a brief glance up at him.

  Nathan remained silent as he stood there, his hand still resting on Flora’s back. It still seemed as though he had yet to breathe, and his dark eyes, now unreadable, had yet to move from her face. After an eternity, he nodded, only once. Then he took two steps towards her, set his hands at her waist, and hoisted her up to Flora’s back as easily as if she were a child. So unexpected was his action that she barely had time to rest her hands on his shoulders before she was airborne. In the next instant, he was walking back over to Mercury, and her racing heart tried to remember its normal pace.

  He mounted his horse, spoke softly to him, then nudged his heels in, and the horse moved forward. Not a word was said between them, and he did not look at her again after putting her up on Flora, but she had caught that look as his hands had been on her waist, that open, almost hungry look that spoke volum
es.

  He was not as settled as he would like her to think him.

  He had some strong feelings towards her as well.

  But what sort of feelings were they? She knew enough of the world to know that a man could be attracted to a woman without having any real attachment to her. She and Nathan were friends, but would he have been willing to throw that label aside and pick up anew, or was he merely acting on human impulses?

  Moira realized that the point was moot as to his motivations. That moment between them had been a mistake, and one of her making. She had known better than to allow herself to be in such close proximity to him, knowing how he affected her, and still she had allowed it. Now instead of having a fond memory of two friends sharing a quiet moment of contentment, she would have a haunting remembrance of what almost was, what could have been, and what never would be.

  Hot tears filled her eyes again as she stared at Nathan’s retreating back. She nudged Flora along, fighting for control. How she wished she knew what Nathan was thinking and how he was feeling. Perhaps if she did, her own sufferings would be lessened.

  She would have been quite wrong. If anything, Nathan’s thoughts were more tormented, his heart more anguished. Letting go of Moira would be the worst thing that he had ever endured, or could ever in the future.

  He did not know what would be left of him when she was gone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was nearly full dark when they reached the outskirts of the city, and it was not a welcoming sight. The buildings, dark and looming in the limited light, were almost eerie and even the faint light of torches was not enough to comfort anyone. Moira rode a little more closely to Nathan, who had not spoken more than three words together since they had come nearer to their destination. Now his face was set in a sort of grim determination, but he could not help but feel a surge of satisfaction at her sudden nearness. She was as uneasy as he was, perhaps even more.