by Bree Wolf
Cecilia nodded smiling. “They live in the moment, a moment in which neither past nor future matter, only the here and now.”
“They remind me of us,” Robert agreed, grinning at his darling wife before his gaze moved to meet Maggie’s. “Of when we were without thought for consequence.” He laughed. “Those were easier times.”
Maggie nodded. “Aye, much easier.” Everything had been simple then. A friend had been a friend, nothing more and nothing less, and each day had been filled with possibilities. Joy had been a given, something expected and received without thought or doubt because it was simply there.
Robert cleared his throat. “There’s someone trying to catch your attention, dear sister,” he said, his voice jolting her from her reminiscing.
Looking up, Maggie saw Claudia waving to her as she walked arm in arm with her husband down the path toward them. Beside her, Maggie spotted Claudia’s brother Richard as well as his wife Evelyn, Lord and Lady Ashwood. Their little daughter Mariah and Aiden watched with wide eyes as the other four children ran around chasing one another. Simple twigs had been transformed into magical wands and short branches had become mighty swords. The possibilities were endless.
After introductions had been made and Aiden and little Mariah had been included in the children’s game, Maggie found herself walking arm in arm with her dearest friend. “Where is Alex? I hope he is well.”
Claudia snorted. “He’s sleeping. My mother is with him. I swear to you sometimes I worry he might sleep through his entire life and miss it. Aiden never slept that much at one year old.” She glanced to where her eldest son was crawling across the lawn in imitation of a dragon, roaring and growling.
“They’re all different,” Maggie said as her eyes swept from her son to her daughter. “Niall has always been so serious, so worried, so cautious. Sometimes he doesna even seem like a lad. He seems aged beyond his years.”
Claudia nodded. “Blair, too, but in a different way.”
“‘Tis because of her gift,” Maggie mumbled, glad that she could speak freely with her friend. Even in Scotland, these otherworldly gifts were only whispered about, forcing those who possessed them to hide a part of who they were for fear of how others would treat them if they knew. “But I’m relieved that what she sees doesna frighten her. She’s always cheerful, trusting that all will be well.”
“And you?” Claudia asked, glancing down at Maggie. “How are you these days?”
Maggie sighed and cast her friend a tentative smile. “‘Tis good to see my brother after all these years and to meet my little niece and nephew, to see the children so happy with one another.” Claudia nodded, but Maggie could see that the answer she’d given was not the one her friend wanted to hear. “Robert asked why I came back.”
“And what did you tell him?”
Maggie shrugged. “The truth.”
“That you needed to see Townsend again?”
Suppressing a shiver, Maggie nodded.
“And that is still your intention?”
“Are ye afraid I’ll change my mind?” Maggie asked, trying her best to smile for the burden of her intentions had grown heavy over the past few days.
Claudia squeezed her arm. “The thought has crossed my mind.” Her warm gaze swept over Maggie’s face. “I can see that you’re afraid, and I understand that you would be, but I do think it will do you good.”
Maggie nodded. “I know ye’re right.” She exhaled a slow breath, her eyes unseeing as they slowly made their way along the path. “Still, ‘tis strange to know that he’s right here in London somewhere, so close after all these years. I keep picturing him in my head, the man he is today, to prepare myself, but…a part of me still feels as though it canna be.”
“What cannot be?” Claudia asked frowning.
“Robert told me about him,” Maggie admitted, remembering the reluctance with which her brother had spoken of the man they’d both called friend once. “They’re not well-acquainted anymore these days, but…but he’s heard rumours.”
“What rumours?”
Maggie couldn’t be certain as her brother had refused to give her details; however, she was not a fool and had a fairly good idea what it was her brother deemed improper for her ears.
Her gaze met Claudia’s and her brows rose in answer.
“I see,” Claudia mumbled, clearly not a fool either. “Did he urge you to rethink your plans?”
Maggie nodded. “He did. He’s afraid seeing Nathan as the man he is today will only serve to hurt me.”
“But if you do not,” Claudia pointed out, “you’ll be forever left wondering. Believe me, the truth is never the wrong path. You need to know. Only then will you have a chance to make your peace with the past, with all that’s happened, and look toward the future.”
Sighing, Maggie met her friend’s gaze. “I know ye’re right. I’ve lived ten years, hoping my heart would finally free itself of his hold on it.” Lifting her eyes to the sky above, she scoffed. “But it hasna, and I dunna believe it ever will. I think the only chance I have is to meet him face to face and tell him how much−” Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes as Claudia’s hands tightened on hers.
Maggie gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, willing the tears away. “I need to rant and yell into his face,” she finally growled out, relieved to feel anger instead of the weakness that all too often came with loving someone who could not care less. “I need to tell him how cowardly he acted and how he betrayed me.”
“May I make a suggestion?” Claudia asked carefully.
Maggie frowned. “A suggestion? What do ye mean?”
A devilish smile tugged on Claudia’s lips. “If you make a scene, you’ll only humiliate yourself and make his victory even sweeter. No, I don’t think that would be wise.” Her gaze drifted to where the rest of their group stood near the Serpentine watching the children as they raced back and forth between the water’s edge and a small grove of trees. “Listen, when I could not remember Garrett after he found me again, it drove him mad. I mean I didn’t do it on purpose, but the effect was second to none. It riled him and made him realise that he wanted me. It made him fight for me. I think it was that passion that ultimately helped me regain my memory.”
“But…,” Maggie began, shaking her head, “I have no intention of…”
“Of course not,” Claudia agreed. “That’s not what I meant. All I intended to say was that if you meet Townsend with your head held high, it’ll surprise him. Show him your cold shoulder, pretend you barely even remember him, let him see how happy you are without him. This way he’ll realise what he’s lost by being the halfwit he’s been and choosing someone other than you for his bride.” Claudia shrugged. “He deserves nothing less.”
“I’m not certain I can do that,” Maggie mumbled for the thought of seeing Nathan again after all these years turned her knees to water. “What if he’s the one who doesna remember me? What if we meet and…nothing?”
“You grew up together,” Claudia reminded her with a stern look. “He’ll remember you. Believe me.”
Still, Maggie could not help but wonder if perhaps she’d been the one to have been mistaken. For years now, she’d relived their last moment together before she’d accompanied her family to Scotland for the summer. They’d been out by the lake, a place where they’d met countless times, a place where they’d spent many wonderful moments together.
Maggie had been near heart-broken at the thought of not seeing him for weeks on end. Tears had pricked the backs of her eyes, and she’d fought hard to keep them from spilling forth. “What will you do all summer without me?” she’d asked him.
Nathan had shrugged in that way he often did. “Without you to guide me, I’ll no doubt find myself in all kinds of trouble.” He’d chuckled then, but his jaw had seemed tense. Then he had bent down to pluck a daisy from amidst the grass at their feet. “For you, little daisy,” he’d whispered, twirling the small flower between his fingers, his eyes meeting
hers in a way they never had before. Then he’d moved closer and gently slid the small stalk into her hair right above her ear. “You look beautiful.”
Heat had rushed to her cheeks at his compliment, and Maggie had dropped her gaze, overwhelmed by the tender look in his eyes. Never had he looked at her like this before, and she’d felt as though he’d just asked her a question, one that required an answer. Unfortunately, Maggie had been at a loss as to what that answer should be. Still, when she’d gathered enough courage to lift her gaze once more and meet his eyes, something inside her had suddenly propelled her forward and into his arms. She’d hugged him with all the longing and regret she’d felt over their parting, and it had taken her a moment to realise that he was not hugging her back, his arms hanging at his sides.
Again, heat had rushed to Maggie’s cheeks in that moment. Only this time, it had echoed of embarrassment and she’d pulled back, hiding her face. “Goodbye then,” she’d mumbled and made to dart off.
But Nathan had stopped her.
All of a sudden, his hand had caught hers and hauled her back into his arms with a swiftness that had stolen the breath from her lungs. His face had been no more than a hair’s breadth from hers, his eyes meeting hers for no more than a split second before his lips had touched hers.
He’d kissed her then, and it hadn’t been a mere peck as Maggie had often imagined her first kiss to be. He’d held her locked in his embrace, and his kiss had fused them together. She’d felt lightheaded, weakened and reeling with the emotions coursing through her veins, but he had been her anchor. He’d held her in his arms, safe and protected. There’d been a promise in the way he’d held her, a confession in the way he’d kissed her.
Maggie had been certain of it.
So certain.
And yet, she’d been wrong.
When they’d finally drawn apart, they’d both been out of breath, confusion swirling in their eyes as they’d all but staggered back, unsteady on their feet. “I’ll see you when you return,” Nathan had said as a small smile had stolen onto his face. “Come back soon.”
The plea in his voice had touched Maggie and she’d nodded her head vehemently, unable to form a single coherent word.
It had been the last time they’d seen each other. The last time they’d spoken. But it had given Maggie hope that upon her return, he would be waiting for her. That they’d no longer be friends, or not only friends, but more. That they might have a future together. That he might come to love her as much as she’d always loved him.
But she had been wrong, and it had changed her life and broken her heart.
Chapter Six
A Mirage
With a glass in hand, Nathan strolled through the ballroom. His eyes swept the crowd, taking little notice of the gentlemen in attendance, but noting all the subtle looks the female half of the attending guests cast in his direction. Indeed, he’d garnered himself a bit of a reputation, a reputation of a rake, a scoundrel. While debutantes steered well clear of him−with good reason−many wives and widows saw little reason to do so. In fact, he’d known his fair share of them intimately, grateful their presence served as a rather pleasant distraction−as short-lived as it might be.
Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan caught sight of Lady Cranshaw, once more dressed in a deeply enticing gown, her eyes looking at him suggestively as she spoke to a small circle of women. Her lips moved into a slight pout as she continued her conversation, and her gaze often strayed to him.
Nathan cast her a charming smile, one that held the promise of more. Judging from the way her teeth momentarily tugged on her lower lip, that promise was only too welcome.
Chuckling, Nathan turned away; however, the moment Lady Cranshaw no longer occupied his mind, his heart instantly sank. Indeed, as much as he tried to laugh and smile, to enjoy himself and live in the here and now, the effort it took him was often exhausting. Worse, he could not even bring himself to believe the charade he put on.
It felt hollow.
Empty.
Nothing but smoke and mirrors.
And his heart would continue to beat in that same, monotone rhythm unaffected by anything, not in the least inspired to jump or skip a beat, to stumble or even attempt a somersault. Ten years had passed since Nathan had felt truly and utterly alive.
And he could barely remember what it had felt like.
The only echo that remained of those days were the memories that sometimes caught him off-guard and swept him back on their tide, back to a time when life had still held meaning.
As his eyes travelled over the dancers moving in time to the soft music echoing through the large room, Nathan’s gaze turned inward. He no longer saw the tall marble columns or the festively decorated tables, neither did he see the elegantly dressed men and women crowding around him. No, all he could see were the tall trees by the lake that sat on the border between his family’s estate and Tynham Hall. He could almost smell the pines and the soft freshness of the water nearby. He felt the tall stalks brush against his legs as he moved through the wild-growing grass, his steps uncoordinated and his gaze fixed on the tips of his shoes.
“Don’t look down,” Margaret chided him, her hand tightening on his. “Look at me. You’ll never learn if you look at your feet.”
Her laughter tickled a lightness from him he had not felt a moment before, and so Nathan lifted his gaze and looked at the utterly bewitching blue eyes of the girl in his arms. “My only concern is for your toes,” he teased, enjoying the way they danced−if one could call it that−across the meadow…despite his own clumsiness. “You won’t be able to walk again should I step on them. They’ll be as flat as a pancake.”
A dazzling smile came to her lips before she shook her head at him, still grinning. “That is the most ridiculous excuse I’ve ever heard, my lord.” She often addressed him as my lord when she was about to impart a bit of wisdom that was so uniquely hers. “Don’t be afraid to fail, for those who’ve tried and failed have gained something that will forever be denied those who do not dare try.”
Nathan frowned. “A bruised ego?”
Chuckling, she sighed like a stern governess displeased to see her charge make light of her most precious lesson. “No, experience.” Her brows rose in that challenging way of hers. “Nothing is more important than to try, to experience, to live. Are we not the sum of all our experiences? Is that not what makes life worth living?”
Awed by the way she looked at the world, Nathan held her gaze. Still, the need to tease her was so ingrained in his being that he could not resist. “And you would consider dancing or better yet crushing one’s partner’s toes an essential experience one cannot or should not live without?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to rile me, my lord, and I cannot say I much care for it.” With a wave of her hand, she urged him back into position. “Let’s start again.”
Nathan sighed. “Will you never give up?” he asked rather exasperated, nevertheless doing as he was told. “I’m telling you the dance instructor my sister hired said I’m a lost cause.” Trying to hide that nagging feeling of inferiority he couldn’t seem to shake, Nathan puffed out his chest and urged a mocking tone into his voice. “He said I’m unteachable. He said I’m the worst student he’s ever had. What does that tell you?”
Margaret shrugged. “That he’s a spineless fool who gives up at the first sign of trouble?”
Nathan laughed, and her eyes lit up with that daring spirit he’d always admired in her. “Do you truly believe that you can teach me when one of the most proficient dance instructors in all of Europe has failed?”
Moving toward him, she held his gaze. “Yes, I do,” she told him, not the slightest hint of doubt in her voice as she stood before him, her eyes looking into his in a way that made him feel as though he could conquer the world…as long as she remained by his side.
“Why?” Nathan asked, feeling breathless as she stood in front of him, so close, so very close. One of her auburn curls was ca
ught up by the warm breeze that brushed across the meadow and danced toward him, its soft end tickling his cheek. “Why?”
One corner of her mouth quirked upward as she reached for his hands, her fingers warm against his own. “You taught me how to fence when everybody said I could not learn because I’m a girl. No one believed I could do it, but you.”
Nathan chuckled, marvelling at the odd sensations that coursed through him at the feel of her soft hands in his. “You only wanted to learn because people said you couldn’t. You wanted to prove everyone wrong.”
Her gaze hardened, and her hands clasped his tighter. “Don’t you want to prove your teacher wrong as well? No one has the right to tell you what you can and cannot do. It is your choice, yours alone.”
“In this particular case, right here and now,” Nathan stated with no small measure of amusement, “it seems to be yours. I was ready to give up an hour ago, but you wouldn’t let me. Tell me, how is this my choice?”
Margaret exhaled an exasperated sigh. “You were making the wrong one, so I had to step in.” Her brows rose and she grinned at him. “You still have much to learn.”
Again, Nathan puffed out his chest. “Allow me to remind you that I’m older than you by three years. Does that not make me the wiser one?”
Margaret chuckled. “One would think so, but no.” The expression on her face sobered then, and she once more waved a hand at him, urging him to get back into position. “Now, let’s try again.”
Heaving a deep breath, Nathan did as ordered, torn between wishing she would finally allow him to end this torture and longing to kiss her for her unfailing faith in him. Indeed, she was not one to give up, and he knew he was a better man knowing her.
Long past that afternoon, they’d practised, day upon day, week upon week, until she’d finally proved him wrong. Until she’d proved that anything was possible if there was but one fool to believe it was.