Read An Arrangement of Sorts Online

Authors: Rebecca Connolly

An Arrangement of Sorts (15 page)

He knew all of this, and had known it, but even so, the recollection of it made him sad.

“Perhaps you are right,” he said quietly, not bothering to hide the fact that he was disappointed. “But you must go back at some point, you know. You would have a wonderful time there.”

“Yes,” she murmured, “I’m sure I would.”

Her downtrodden expression only served to add to his own sense of regret. It was time for a subject change. “Might I ask you a question now?”

She smiled at him and nodded. “If you would like.”

“I was just wondering,” he began, hoping she would be as open with him as he had just been with her, “why you are so insistent on paying for everything. I have been keeping track, Moira, and if we continue going as we have been these past few days, the whole endeavor is going to be very expensive. Are you sure that you have the funds you require for all of this?”

“I am sure,” she said reassuringly, her smile a bit stiffer now.

“How?” he asked immediately. “I mean no offense, but from the state of your dresses and your boots, which are rather worn and well-mended, I have a hard time believing it.”

Moira sighed and looked away, suddenly pensive.

Nathan cursed himself and shook his head. “I apologize, Moira. It is none of my business. Forget that I even asked.”

“No, no, Nathan, there’s no need to apologize,” she said, turning back to him. “I am only trying to think of how to say this properly.” She bit her lip again and looked down for a moment, then brought her eyes back up to his. “I am rich.”

His disbelief must have shown, for she nodded. “I am not just rich, though. I am what some would call obscenely wealthy.”

Her earnest words rang true in his mind, but he didn’t see how it was possible.

“I suppose I need to start at the beginning,” she said on another soft sigh, adjusting herself slightly in the saddle. “My parents were very wealthy. They were at the height of society in London, and I believe were quite the popular set as well. I have very little memory of life in those days, as I was quite young. My brother and I were rather spoiled, I think, but not in a bad way. At any rate, when I was eight years old, my parents and my brother were killed in a terrible boating accident


“Wait,” Nathan interrupted, his heart stilling in his chest, his eyes going wide, “wait. You’re one of
those
Dennisons?”

Moira gave him an odd look. “I’m not entirely certain what that means, but I suppose the correct answer would be yes,
those
Dennisons.”

He gave a low whistle and ran a hand through his hair. That changed things drastically. Robert and Anne Dennison had been one of the wealthiest families in all of England, not just London, and had been the toast of society right up until the day they died. It was a terrible tragedy to lose a couple that everybody thought so well of, and for them to lose their son and heir as well had set more than a few pairs of eyes to crying. Many forgot that they also had a daughter, but most wondered what would happen to that fortune of theirs now that they were gone, and no one knew.

Now Nathan did, and suddenly everything began to make sense.

“Anyway,” Moira continued, graciously ignoring his strange outburst, “I was eight years old when they died, and had no one to really care for me, and no need for a fortune that large. So my father’s solicitor, who was a great friend, decided to put it all into trust until I turned twenty-one, or until I was married, whichever came first. But I was not permitted to speak of it to anyone at all until either of those things occurred, or I would lose it all. Then I was sent away to live with my mother’s older sister Miriam, who was neither a pleasant woman nor any sort of competent mother. But she knew about the inheritance, and she took me in more for the sake of hoping that when I reached the age requirement that she would get something.”

Nathan listened carefully, knowing that there were things in her answer that she would rush through that were actually very important bits of her past that he wanted to know very much, and he was right. She gave no details of her parents or her brother, and did not speak much about her aunt. The money she talked freely of, which told Nathan that she could have cared less about it.

“So that is why I have money, but no wardrobe,” she said with forced lightness. “I had to make these dresses myself out of the fabric that Aunt Miriam let me have. I have only had my fortune for a year or so, and I have no idea what to do with it.”

Now that Nathan could believe rather easily. “So I take it that Charles knew nothing of this?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. To be fair, I had no idea myself just how large it was. But I have always wondered if he would have known, would he have left the way he did?”

There was no way to answer that except for saying, “I don’t know.” Nathan would like to think that the answer was no for Moira’s sake, but a man’s pride was a tricky thing. Depending on the sort of man that Charles actually was, it might have made things worse. He was not entirely certain what he would have done, had he been in that situation. It was something he had never had to consider.

He chanced a question along a different path. “What do you remember about your parents?”

A more pensive look crossed her face as she thought. “I remember that my father smelled of hay quite a lot, but in a pleasant way, not a smelly one. I remember him reading to me in the library before bed. I remember my mother smiling all the time, and her and Father laughing so hard they could hardly speak over something that I did not understand, but I remember the laughter. I remember going with my mother to a dress shop and watching her try some things on. I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world.”

She smiled at the memory, which made Nathan smile as well.

“If your parents were who I think they were,” he remarked, “then your mother was widely considered to be one of the most beautiful women in England and your father owned the finest stables in London. They were both the envy of all
s
ociety.”

Her smile grew. “Really?”

He nodded, fighting his desire to laugh at her child-like wonder.

“That makes a lot of sense. When Uncle George, that’s my father’s solicitor, came to me last year to discuss my holdings, he mentioned the stables, which are under the care of a Mr. Grant. I still own the stables in their entirety, but he recommended I retain Mr. Grant as their caretaker.” She shrugged and smiled. “I had no desire to run stables myself, so I agreed. I do not have a head for finances, so anytime that I can get others to do things for me is a blessing.”

“Very wise,” Nathan said with a grin. “And what do you remember of your brother?”

“Robbie was twelve when he died, but he was a horrible tease,” Moira mused with a fond smile. “He used to tug at my curls any chance he could. He would jump out at me from behind corners and doors and it never failed to give me a fright. But he could also make me laugh at anything at any time. I remember one day hiding out in the barn and crying about something that I had been scolded for, and suddenly, there was Robbie. He sat down next to me and put his arm about my shoulder, and not three minutes later, he was tickling me and I giggled until I could not breathe.”

“You loved him very much, didn’t you?” There really was no question; it was plain to see that she still held very strong affection for him.

“I worshipped him,” she said softly, her eyes misting a bit. “He was my hero. Everything he did was brilliant in my eyes.” Suddenly she closed her eyes and looked away. “I still miss them very much,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said gently, putting a hand over hers where it sat on the saddle horn and squeezing it. “I know.”

Her blue eyes met his dark ones, and he nodded at the questions there. “My father died when I was fifteen, and my mother only six years ago. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of them.”

She nodded her thanks, and sniffed back the few tears that had begun welling up.

“Can I ask you something else, Nathan?” she asked as she wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Of course.”

She smiled at his simple response. “You had said that you can speak French fluently.”

He nodded. “I can.”

“Did you learn that in the army?”

Again, he nodded. “It seemed appropriate to learn it as many of our deserters would make for the French coast. There is nothing the French love so much as a British traitor.”

She shuddered delicately. “I can only imagine. But what I was really wondering is this
;
would you teach me?”

He looked at her carefully. “Teach you French?”

“Yes, if you please,” she said with a smile. “I would love to speak other languages. Besides, would not the mark of a truly refined lady be the ability to speak several?”

“I suppose,” he said slowly, eyeing her cautiously. “What other languages would you learn?”

She shrugged. “Oh, probably Italian and German, as is appropriate. Perhaps Latin or Greek. Would those be beneficial?”

He snorted and shook his head. “Only if you are a scholar or a bluestocking.”

“So you do not know Latin, then?”

Now, how should he answer that? He had spent a good number of years in schools where Latin was very strictly emphasized, but how many common men could say the same? He opted to tell her the truth, even if it was a gross understatement. “I know a little. Enough for church, at least.”

Nathan braced himself for her accusatory finger as his almost-but-not-quite-the-truth slipped out and brought in religion at the same time, which would undoubtedly be revealed to her as not entirely correct when he found himself suddenly struck by lightning.

But Moira said nothing, and he relaxed.

“So, will you teach me French?” she asked with an innocent smile.

He returned her smile and nodded. “If you wish to learn, Moira, then I would be glad to teach you.”

Her smile grew into a grin, and she looked positively delighted.

At that moment, she could have asked him to bring her the moon and he would have found a way to do it.

“All right, Miss Dennison,” he said in his best teacher voice, which made her giggle, “let us begin. The first thing you need to know is the French alphabet.”
 

   

It was much later when they finally reached an inn to stop for the night. The day had been an odd mix of frustration and amusement as Moira had struggled to grasp the French language. Nathan had been patient and corrected her as gently as he could, but honestly, the simple basics of a language should not have been that difficult for anyone.

What made the whole endeavor worth it were those rare moments when she exceeded his expectations and surprised herself in the process. She would smile and laugh in elation and he was helpless but to join her. She was learning, however slowly the process was coming, and her pride and sense of accomplishment were nearly as rewarding to Nathan.

He only prayed she would not need to use her newfound French skills for quite some time.

“Can I have another turn at telling our story,
s’il vous plait
?” she asked with a grin, her accent actually quite good.

He rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. “
Oui
,
mademoiselle
.” Then he threw her a mock frown. “But make it a good one.”

She nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, have no fear, I will.”

In spite of her words, Nathan had a great deal of fear all of a sudden.

But he swallowed his protests and dutifully helped her off of the horse and followed her into the inn, which was rather crowded and loud.

“I am terribly sorry to bother you, sir,” Moira asked in a very soft voice when they approached the innkeeper.

The man turned, obviously haggard, but his expression cleared at Moira’s smile. “How can I help you, miss?” he asked with a slight incline of his head, obviously completely oblivious to Nathan’s presence.

Moira blushed prettily and ducked her head. “It’s ma’am, actually, sir,” she said shyly as she took Nathan’s hand, which sent a surprised jolt through him. “My husband and I have just come up from Devon and need only a place to rest for a time before continuing on to Preston. Have you any rooms available?”

Her voice was so weary and earnest that Nathan almost believed her himself.

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