Read An Arrangement of Sorts Online
Authors: Rebecca Connolly
But what about Nathan?
She wanted more time with him. She wanted to make sure she knew all of his secrets, and he knew all of hers. She wanted to see if he was as vulnerable to her as she was becoming with him. She wanted to know if it could be possible for him to love her.
Once they were separated, when she had gone with Charles, would he go on and find someone else to love him? The thought made her chest ache and her stomach clench.
She could not love him. She should not.
She was going to marry Charles Allenford, as she had been planning for years. She would be a good wife to him, and knew that he would be a wonderful husband. He would be a loving and devoted father, and their children would love and respect him in return. Their life would be very good, better than many people in the world could hope to have.
She bit her lip and shook her head, more questions flooding her mind.
Had Charles kissed her the way Nathan had, as if savoring a delicacy? Would Nathan have resented her fortune, when he had none? Did Charles think she was as beautiful as Nathan seemed to? Would a child of Nathan’s take on his features? Would she always wonder if she had done right, regardless of her decision?
She rested her head against the cool pane of the window, and sighed. It would be best to pretend that she had not felt anything tonight. It would be best if she went on as she had been. It would be best if nothing changed from the original plan.
It would be best if her life continued on without Nathan.
He appeared out of the darkness again, and her doubts resurfaced. He had his hands behind his back, expression troubled. He did not look up this time, which she was grateful for. She just wanted to look at him for a while. She wanted to memorize his handsome face. She wanted to smooth those creases in his brow away. She wanted to kiss that frown away. She wanted to run out to him, beg him to hold her, and stay right here forever. She wanted to forget everything else but the two of them in this moment.
But that was not possible.
For one thing, Nathan was far too principled to allow her to break her promise to Charles for him. For another, she could not bear to injure Charles. Not after what he had done for her and been to her. She owed him another chance.
She would have to force her thoughts and feelings of Nathan away. She would have to become the perfect lady, one who did not abandon principles for a flighty romance. Time would soon mend the wounds, she was sure. Time could heal all sorts of things, and soon he would forget all about her and he would be but a fond memory to her.
He stopped for a moment, and she watched his shoulders heave with a sigh, and she felt herself do the same. What was the use? It did not matter that she could not or should not. It did not matter that it might be all on her side. It did not even matter that she was fighting it every step of the way.
“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
s
quire 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
s
quire 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
, b
ut 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
s
quire 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.”