An Arrangement of Sorts Page 4

  The fact that she tossed out his name so easily, and that it sounded so good to his ears, was something else he was entirely unprepared for. “I suppose you could say that,” he managed, barely remembering that he could say her name, and hastily added, “…Moira.”

  It felt good to call her by her given name. He liked her name. It suited her. But he couldn’t tell her that. He had his own reputation to uphold. Giving her as severe a look as he could manage, he said, “Though I can hardly call it refreshing. If you keep taking me by surprise in such a way, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.”

  She smirked. “So I have your permission to call you Nathan, then?”

  He snorted and gave her a look. “It was my idea, if you recall. I would have hardly brought it up if I had a problem with you using my given name. I assume that I have your permission to do the same, Moira?”

  “Yes, I suppose...” She wrinkled her nose a bit. “This is going to take some getting used to, isn’t it?”

  He chuckled. “Probably. Breaking habits usually does. But my friends have all called me Nathan for years, so if we just consider each other as friends, perhaps it will be easier.”

  She tilted her head and her smile grew. “I would like that very much. Nathan.”

  “As would I.” Unable to help himself, he grinned. He really would like to consider her a friend. He would like to know what was really going on in that head of hers, and what drove her to march in demanding to see him the way she did. But more than that, he wanted to know her, the woman she was on the inside. Ironically enough, he thought he could quite genuinely like Moira Dennison, if she would let him.

  Or parts of her, at any rate.

  “I think we are in for a very interesting experience,” Moira said, musing aloud.

  “I fail to see how it could be anything but,” he agreed. “If we view it as an exercise in creativity, it could be very interesting indeed. Imagine the sorts of scrapes we could get ourselves into.”

  “Then let’s do it,” she piped up with an impish light in her eyes. “I can spin quite a tale, if called upon to do so.”

  “Can you now?” he queried, not sure he believed her. “Well then, when we first have to pose as man and wife, I will let you do the talking.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t think I can do it.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “On the contrary, I think you will have no trouble convincing people that we are married.”

  “Hmm,” she murmured, still eying him warily. “I don’t trust you.”

  “Then we are better friends than I thought.”

  Her face broke into a smile once more, and it was as if the sun had suddenly broken through a dark blanket of clouds. It transformed her face from merely attractive into something so stunning it was all he could do to blink.

  He hastily swallowed the unexpected choking sensation that was now in his throat and somehow managed to speak. “I have a ring.”

  Well, now that was certainly coherent of him.

  He cleared his throat and tried again. “If we are to be traveling as husband and wife, we should try to do so from all outward appearances. I have procured a ring for that reason.” There, that was much more sensible.

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Excellent idea. I will, of course, compensate you for it.”

  He shook his head. “No, it is not worth very much. Besides, it has been in my family for some time. I will just collect it when we are through.”

  “If you wish. I am impressed by your forethought, Nathan.” She smiled at him, and he found himself returning it, despite his twinge of guilt.

  She might not smile so fondly if she knew where the ring had come from.

  He pulled out the ring from his pocket and handed it to her. She took it and slid it onto her finger. “Perfect fit, how fortunate.”

  He took a silent breath in.

  Enough of that. He cleared his throat and was about to ask her something when she spoke.

  “I have a thought,” she said, straightening slightly in her saddle. “I think we ought to get more acquainted with each other. For one, going about all day only commenting on the weather or the state of the roads is not going to engender any sort of warmth between us. And for another, I happen to be intensely curious about a great many things.”

  Her blunt admission of that small detail caught him, and his defenses were suddenly more alert. He would have to be very, very cautious, or this could all go wrong rather quickly. But the opportunity to learn more about her was tempting.

  “Therefore,” she continued, as if he hadn’t just had another wave of his own curiosity thrust upon him, “I think that, since we are friends now…” she paused, looking at him.

  “We are,” he confirmed quickly.

  She nodded, and continued, “… Then I think we ought to be able to ask each other any question we wish.”

  Any? Oh, that was not going to go well. He had so many questions for her, some he knew she would not like, and he dreaded the ones she might come up with for him.

  “Any, you say?” he offered, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

  “Yes, any,” she said, shaking her head at him. “And whoever is being asked is allowed to pass on the question, if they truly do not wish to share the answer. And since we are friends, we will trust that they have a good reason for not sharing.”

  Ah, now that was an interesting clarification if he had ever heard one. Not that he disagreed, but what sort of things did she want to hide from him? As seems to be the case in all situations, the restrictions made the unknown so much more tempting.

  But, above all else, Nathan was a gentleman, and he would prove it to her. “Agreed, then.”

  Moira sighed to herself in relief. She knew that she would have gone mad on this long journey without having any sort of real conversation, and the only way she knew to do that was to ask questions. She was surprised that he was going to allow her the liberty of asking any question she wanted. True, she had added the option of passing on a question if one did not want to answer it, but that was mostly because she had seen how he had stiffened when she had mentioned the “any question” part. He had secrets, it seemed, but then, so did she.

  All things considered, she really did want to be friends with him. He seemed a very good sort of person, and they’d been thrown together in this strange arrangement of her making. Perhaps with this little question idea of hers, they would eventually get to be friends in truth.

  As if he could sense her thoughts, he asked, “Might I start off this ‘any question’ game?”

  She nodded and smiled in encouragement. “Of course, please do.”

  He almost looked uncertain at first, but then he asked, “Why me?”

  The question startled her, which must have shown on her face as Nathan smiled at her and continued, “You could have had any number of people help you with finding your betrothed. Why did you choose me?”

  She had hoped they would not reach this question until much further down the line, but she knew she owed him an answer. With a sigh, she shrugged a little. “I started off from Gillam four days ago without any help at all. I did not think that I would need any, which, as I soon came to find out, was quite ridiculous. And it was not long before I realized the dangers of a single woman traveling alone on unfamiliar paths. Oh, don’t look so murderous, nothing happened,” she scolded, waving a hand at him as he opened his mouth in outrage.

  “At any rate,” she continued quickly, ignoring his glower, “I was already beyond the boundaries of propriety and all else I knew, so I merely started asking any who would listen to me. It seemed better to refer to Charles as a brother instead of telling people I was looking for my betrothed. A desperate sister is more respected than a desperate lover, don’t you think?”

  He did not look as though he would like to answer that, and she did not wait for him to.

  “So I began asking if anyone knew my brother. I quickly learned that was not helping; he had been gone far
too long anyway. I switched my pleas to asking if anybody knew someone who could help me find my brother. As you can probably imagine, most people were not receptive to my addresses.”

  He nodded, clenching his jaw, but saying nothing.

  “But one man took pity on me,” Moira continued, “and listened to me, to the whole story. He immediately told me to find Nathaniel Hammond. He told me all about serving in the army and how when someone needed to be found, they called for you. He and his companions provided detailed accounts, but I’m not entirely certain how much of their tales I put credence to.” She smiled at him, wishing he would not look so irritated. “You made quite an impression on them, Nathan.”

  “I doubt half of the stories were true,” he said gruffly. “Did you get the man’s name?”

  She thought back, wondering if he had told her. “The others called him Carpenter, but I couldn’t say if that was his real name.”

  “I would assume it was Daniel Carpenter. Yes, you were right to only think him moderately reliable.” His eyes took on a far-off look that Moira was desperate to ask about, but something held her back.

  He shook himself from his stupor and looked back to her, his expression still cloudy. “Apologies, Moira. Please go on.”

  Ignoring the compulsion to ask him anyway, she continued, “Well, since the information this Carpenter fellow gave me was all I had to go on, and I was ready to try almost anything, I paid him and went out in search of you.”

  “And you found me,” he finished softly, as if he wasn’t sure he liked that she had.

  “Well, Carpenter did tell me that the last he heard, you were somewhere in Hampshire, and once I knew that, things were much easier.”

  He gave her a look. “Easier how? Hampshire is a rather large and general area in which to find one man.”

  She shrugged. “I had a general idea of location and a description of you from my sources. Not that it was very good, but you would be surprised what a less than decent description, a name, and some money will get you. I am very grateful that you were not further into the country than you were.”

  “Convenient,” he murmured, still looking at her oddly. “So you took the word of one source of questionable reliability and started on your own manhunt for me, knowing that much of the information had probably been fabricated.”

  “Yes,” she said shifting uncomfortably in her saddle. “As I said, I had nothing other than that, and it seemed my best option at the time. I did tell you this when I first met you, and you still agreed to come.”

  He made some non-committal noise, still staring at her.

  Moira was not sure what that was all about; everything she had told him was true. She had not left out anything that was pertinent, and had been completely candid about her lack of information. There was no cause for him to stare at her as though she had committed some sort of crime, or gross error in judgment.

  Well, perhaps the error in judgment was well-founded, but even so…

  Finally, she couldn’t stand it. “Now what, Nathan? I have answered your question and you look as though I have fed you stockings for soup.”

  He managed a thin smile at her phrase, but then he was serious again. “Moira, how many pubs did you go into before you found me in The Horse and Rider?”

  She ducked her head, her cheeks flaming. “Five.”

  “Uh huh. And how many of those were places you should have gone into?”

  Her eyes flashed. There was no way that he was going to be permitted to criticize her for her choices and actions when he did not know her. “Oh, what does that have to do with anything?” she snapped. “I was looking for you and I found you. I don’t see how any of this makes any difference at all.”

  “Were you trying to get yourself killed or worse? For pity’s sake, woman!” He ran a hand through his hair and glared at her. “Did you think at all before you…?”

  “Oh no, you don’t, Nathaniel Hammond,” she overrode loudly, her face flaming in indignation. “We have been friends all of twenty minutes, which is not nearly long enough for you to disapprove of my past behavior. You are not my father, brother, husband, or anything else that would give you the right to even have an opinion on what I have already done. I did what I had to do, and I would do it again. Now what have you to say? I know you have something to say. You always must say something, you simply cannot help yourself, so come on and spit it out, then.”

  Nathan stared at her for what felt like ages. Then he grunted a sigh and said, “Have you ever been informed that you are the most infuriating woman on the planet?”

  She exhaled through her nose sharply and tried not to smile. “As a matter of fact, no, I have not.”

  He grunted. “You are.”

  She fought it, but she had to smile now. As aggravating as Nathan was, she actually found herself enjoying their banter. They might kill each other before the trip was complete, but at least it would be good fun while it lasted.

  She snuck a peek back over at Nathan, who was still fuming, but seemed calmer.

  She appreciated his concern, she really did. But she would do whatever she needed to in order to find Charles, regardless of what he or anyone else thought. She had come too far, had hurt too much to let anything stop her.

  But that did not mean that she had to dwell on it now. What she wanted at the moment was to know more about this man she would be pretending to be married to.

  “Well, if you don’t mind humoring the most infuriating woman on the planet,” she began, throwing a measure of playfulness into her tone.

  “Oh, lord,” he groaned, but with a smile. “What now?”

  She ignored him and looked as superior as she could. “What are some things that I need to know about my husband before we meet the public?”

  He gave her a quizzical look. “Excuse me?”

  “It cannot be that complicated. Tell me some things I need to know about you.”

  “What kind of things?” he asked slowly.

  Moira rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, you can’t help yourself from spewing forth unwanted speeches, but getting personal details out of you is worse than drawing teeth! Very well, I will go first.”

  She looked away in thought for a moment, then heaved a sigh and looked at him once more. “I hate cats, and they hate me. I don’t eat tripe, I can whistle like a man, and I enjoy taking long walks. I like hearing rain on the roof, I take rather large bites when eating an apple, and it takes me ages to fall asleep at night. My middle name is Patience, and I hate it, so you may never speak of it again.”

  Nathan stared at her, as if he had no idea what she had just said. But then, she had said it all rather fast and in one breath. It was no wonder his brain took a little time to process and catch up.

  “Interesting,” he said, musing aloud to himself. “I feel oddly enlightened now.”

  “So you should,” she quipped rather smartly. “Now you know what is expected of you, so it is your turn.”

  “Very well, give me a moment.” He appeared to give it some thought, just enough to make her roll her eyes and huff in frustration again, and then he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. Are you ready?”

  “Quite,” she retorted dryly.

  “Hush, I am humoring you,” he growled, giving her a severe look, to which she responded by making a face. He sighed a long-suffering sigh, then began his own response: “I can sneak up on a bird without startling it, I would rather eat breakfast every meal instead of only once, and I do not enjoy dancing. I can speak French fluently, I hate cravats, and I do not gamble. I like dogs, but not in my bed, and I have a brother who cannot stand me, and I don’t want to talk about it, so don’t ask.”

  Moira was staring at him now, trying to remember to breathe. She knew immediately that he wished back the part about his brother. She could see it in his face that he did not mean to share that with her. Her mind scrambled to come up with something clever to say, but all she could manage thinking was that she should apologize,
which he had already told her to stop doing.

  “Well,” she started off, completely at a loss as to how she was going to end this, “that was enlightening, you are quite right.”

  He didn’t look at her, but his jaw tensed.

  She gave him an odd look. “You don’t like dancing?”

  The relief that coursed through him was so evident that she almost cheered. He returned her look, and she could see the gratitude in his eyes, but decided to focus on the amusement he was trying to show.

  “I don’t,” he said with a shrug. “I simply cannot stand it. I avoid it at all costs.”

  She shook her head and gave a rather un-ladylike snort. “Were you by chance raised by wolves? Everybody enjoys dancing!”

  “Obviously not. And I will let you in on a little secret, Miss Moira Dennison,” he said with a smile, crooking a finger at her.

  She nudged her horse closer and made a show of leaning in.

  “Most men do not like dancing,” he told her in a conspiratorial whisper.

  She reared back in mock outrage. “Impossible!”

  He shook his head somberly. “No, it’s true.”

  “Why do it, then?”

  He shrugged slightly. “That is where the women are, and the women like to dance, so the men must endure.”

  “Oh, the sacrifices that you noble men make for we poor, demanding females,” she said with a heavy measure of sarcasm. “However do you manage it?”

  “Very carefully,” he replied in sober tones, which had them both laughing at once.

  Chapter Four

  “Now you promised to let me do the talking.”

  Nathan closed his eyes and groaned. “No doubt, that was the thickest decision I ever made,” he lamented, as they approached the inn where they would stay for the night.

  Moira glared at him fiercely. “Well, I can hardly convince anyone if you look so pained about it.”

  He arched a brow at her. “Would you like me to be overtly affectionate, then? That would certainly convince the good patrons of something, but given the long day we have just had, I doubt they would be thinking marriage…”