“No,” I said, biting off the word. Mama raised an eyebrow, and I regretted my curtness. “No, she showed us the school, and Olivia had the chance to play with the girls.”
“That is good,” Mama said, though her voice trailed upward on the last word as if asking a question. But I did not particularly feel like answering her at present.
“Thank you for accompanying us today, Miss Rowley.” Nicholas’s voice held none of the warmth I’d come to expect from him. Instead, he sounded rather like he had that first day at the lake when we hadn’t known each other. “I shall beg my leave now and take Olivia home.” He offered Mama a quick bow, and I barely had the chance to curtsy before he left, collecting Olivia as he passed.
“What on earth?” Mama moved closer to me, and both of us watched as Nicholas and Olivia climbed into his carriage waiting near the dress shop.
I exhaled. “My thoughts precisely.”
“If I did not know better, I would hazard a guess that you and the lieutenant are not particularly happy with one another at the moment.” She examined me from the corner of her eye.
“You would be entirely correct.”
“What—?”
But I cut her off. “Oh, look, there are the Masons coming from the tea shop.” Sarah spotted us, and I offered a wave, which she enthusiastically returned. “Let us go and speak with them a minute.” I started forward, and Mama followed behind. But as I greeted Sarah and Mrs. Mason, Mama’s gaze was on me continually. I kept a smile on my face and focused entirely on our conversation about Sarah’s new bonnet and the Masons’ trip to the Lake District.
Because I knew if I relaxed my concentration for even a moment, my thoughts would trail after the exasperating lieutenant, whose carriage was just disappearing around the corner.
Chapter Fifteen
The carriage ride home with Mama was silent, but that was certainly not the case inside my own mind. My conversation with Nicholas—or, rather, argument—played again and again. He had been impulsive and temperamental, accusing me of interfering in his and Olivia’s relationship. Hadn’t he?
I’d just been trying to help Olivia, be her advocate. Why had he snapped at me so? She could be vexing, of course, but Nicholas had no sense of what the girl needed. This was not a naval frigate at high sea; discipline would never have the effect he desired. Although Olivia pretended indifference, it was clear to me now that she was acting. I only wished I knew why.
Well, that was not the only thing I wished I knew. The twisting inside me was as baffling as Olivia’s refusal. But I was determined not to feel guilty. Nicholas needed to know his method of dealing with Olivia was not working.
I put our argument from my mind and focused instead on convincing Mama that I was perfectly all right. Between our conversation about Mr. Hambley and my reaction to Nicholas in town, I had no doubt she still worried over me. Through the rest of that afternoon and evening, I did my best to appear as if everything was just as it should be. At dinner, I relayed an entertaining story Sarah had told me about her trip, ensuring my voice was carefree. I teased William about his too-long hair, even as he insisted he was too busy to find time for a trim, and I plied Juliana with questions about how she was feeling, hoping to avoid any discussion about our visit with her that day.
When I finally retired to my room that night, the stars hanging low in the sky, I sank into the chair beside the window, thoroughly exhausted. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, and of course, Nicholas’s face appeared, irritation in every line of his face.
My own words came back to me, ringing sharply against my skull. Or do you expect her to simply obey you without question? I’d tossed that at him without thinking, but I knew now it was my own frustration speaking. William set rule after rule about my riding, not realizing I was perfectly able to understand my own limits. Then both he and Mama demanded I stay away from Edward and his family but told me no details as to why. And now I had reason to doubt my own father’s integrity yet did not dare question my family about it, entrenched as they were in their prejudices.
I squeezed my eyes even tighter. I should not have said what I had to Nicholas. As little as I knew about my own family, clearly there was far more I did not know about his. He had been right: he lived day in and day out with Olivia. I saw her but rarely. How could I think to know her better? No wonder he had been so heated.
I shook my head and stared out over Havenfield’s shadowed landscape. It had just been a fight. It did not mean we were no longer friends.
Tomorrow was the day we had arranged for another meeting in the meadow. Would he still show after our disagreement? I could hardly expect him to after I had treated him so poorly.
I grimaced. I would apologize and hope it would be enough.
I rode to the meadow the next morning, wishing nearly every step of the way that I could turn back. I did not particularly like knowing I was in the wrong, but I pushed myself forward. I would rather apologize and keep Nicholas as a friend than be stubborn and lose him.
No sounds of gunfire greeted me as I arrived at the meadow, and a cursory glance revealed no waiting Nicholas. I’d arrived first, then. Good. I could practice what I planned to say. I rehearsed my apology to Stella as I dismounted and began removing her saddle.
“I am sorry to have assumed I knew best what to do with Olivia,” I said slowly, trying to find my most contrite voice as I unbuckled the girth. Stella tossed her head and snorted, so I must have been on the right track. “I am sorry I doubted your competence as her guardian. I could never do what you do for her.”
That sounded rather good, really. But though I meant every word, the apology still rubbed me wrong somehow.
“I still think there could be another way to help her,” I experimented as I paused, both hands on the saddle. “You mustn’t see her as a task to complete but rather as a child to help.”
“As far as apologies go, I suppose it could be worse.”
I spun, the saddle nearly slipping from Stella’s back. Nicholas sat on a low-hanging branch of a nearby tree. He leaned against the trunk with one arm set casually on his bended knee.
“Blast it, Nicholas.” I took a sharp breath as my heart still attempted to convince my head we were in some sort of danger. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here already?”
“And lose the chance to hear that heartfelt apology?”
“I did mean it,” I snapped. “But now I am tempted to take it all back.”
He slid from the tree branch, landing effortlessly in a crouch, then straightened his jacket and waistcoat as he stood. “Please don’t. I did not mean to startle you, but you arrived before I’d decided how to apologize.”
“You?”
He sighed. “I’ve apologized to you so many times, you see, that I was afraid they have all begun to sound the same. I do not wish for you to doubt my sincerity.”
I hardly knew what to say to that. I had expected to ask for his forgiveness, not the other way around. My hands ran over the smooth leather of Stella’s saddle as I found the words I wanted. “Perhaps we can simply both forgive and forget.”
“I’d rather not forget, if it’s all the same to you.” He moved forward, coming to Stella’s head and gently taking her bridle. Normally, Stella hated anyone but me or Mr. Mullens to handle her. But except for her twitching ears, she did not react as Nicholas rubbed her nose.
I tried to focus on the conversation, not on how much my temperamental horse seemed to like Nicholas. “And why can we not forget it?”
“Because you spoke the truth.” He spoke with great resignation. “Difficult as it was to hear, I know you were right.”
“I . . .” I broke off, shaking my head. “I spoke in haste. I did not mean to suggest you do not know—”
“Rebecca.”
I stopped. My name on his lips was quite enough to forget what I had been saying.<
br />
But he seemed not to notice as he considered his own words. “You were right to reprimand me,” he said finally. “Because I haven’t tried to know Olivia as I should. Why would she tell me anything when she cannot trust me?”
I wholeheartedly agreed but kept that to myself. “Please do not blame yourself entirely. She hasn’t exactly made much effort, from my viewpoint.”
He shook his head. “But she is a child, like you said. Sometimes I find it easy to forget that fact since she tries so hard to act grown up.” He crossed his arms. “In any case, your words stayed with me all of the day. And last night, I felt chastised enough to act on it.”
“I did not mean—”
He held up a hand in a show of exasperation. “I will never be able to tell you what Olivia said to me if you insist on interrupting.”
I pressed my lips together even as they fought to turn upward, then tipped my head, an invitation for him to continue.
“I sat with her,” he began. “I told her that even though neither of us had chosen our lots in life, that did not mean we could not make the best of it. We had to be honest and open with one another if we were to find any sort of peace in our home.”
I tried to imagine Olivia’s face during this conversation. Likely, she had crossed her arms and glared at him. “And what did she say to that?”
He hesitated for the first time. “She . . . she cried.”
“Olivia?” The image in my head shifted: Olivia, with red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling nose.
“Yes,” he said simply. “She told me that since her mother’s death, she has felt utterly abandoned. Both parents gone, and her cousin who took her in while I was at sea neglected her terribly. Then I came for her, and I—” He blew air from his mouth. “I do the best I can, but it is not what she needs.”
“You cannot blame yourself,” I said gently. “You were near strangers to each other for such a long time.”
He rubbed his chin. “I know that. I do. But I wish I had tried harder. I was so fixated on finding a place for her and a way to return to my life in the navy that I did not think about what was best for her. That should have been my sole focus.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“I did. And she told me that was precisely the reason she reacted as she did at the school yesterday.”
Then I understood. “She felt as if you were abandoning her as well.”
“Yes,” he said heavily. “I ought to have realized she would feel that way after all she’d been through.”
“She has something of a point, I’m afraid.” I ran my hands over Stella’s golden coat, my fingers light as I fought the memories that struggled to resurface after years of forgetting. The day Papa left for a voyage to India. My tears that night as Mama consoled me. At least I’d had my mother then. Olivia did not.
“I wish I did not have to leave her,” he said. “I will worry over her constantly, even if she is happy at school.” He rubbed his neck. “I tried to reassure her as best I could. I promised her that if I did leave, I would always come back.”
I shot him a sharp glance. “That is not a promise you should have made.” Even if England was not currently at war, a navy lieutenant was never assured of a safe return. Illness, storms, accidents. Any number of misfortunes could befall Nicholas and leave Olivia alone once again.
“I am fully aware.” He shook his head. “But I could not stand to see her so distraught, and my promise did seem to help. In fact, Olivia agreed to attend the school. I daresay she might even be a bit excited at the idea, if nervous. And I hope I do not have to leave her. Indeed, my chances of being given orders are slim.”
“Why do you—” I stopped my question. I did not have a right to his answer.
But he waved me on. “I can imagine what you’d like to ask.”
I faced him full on, one hand resting on Stella’s side. “Why are you so determined to return to the navy? You have a life here now, with Olivia, Linwood Hall.”
I almost said me, but that was ridiculous. I was nothing more to him than a neighbor, a friend. I was certainly not a reason for him to stay.
He ran his hand through his hair and left it adorably mussed. “The navy has been my life since I was a ship’s boy at twelve years old. And I love it, I do. The challenge of mastering the sea and visiting places others only dream of.” He shook his head. “At first, the thought of giving it all up was impossible. How could I spend the rest of my days in leisure, without purpose? I could not imagine it.”
“But now?” I ventured.
He looked at me then, his eyes exploring mine. “Now . . .” he said softly. “Now I find I am imagining a great deal more.”
A tiny burst of heat began spreading from my chest, but I ignored it. “Good,” I managed. “That is good, isn’t it? For you, and for Olivia?”
He nodded. “If I were to purchase Linwood, I think I could be rather happily invested in its success and thus escape the tedious existence I was so wary of.”
He’d meant Linwood Hall, not me. Of course not me.
I cleared my throat. “You would leave the navy?”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “I am sure of nothing at the moment. But the idea becomes more persuasive every day.”
I wanted to say more. I wanted to tell him how I valued our friendship and that I would miss him dreadfully if he went away, but that ridiculous heat inside my chest had yet to dissipate, and fueling it by even a small measure would be a mistake. Because I would be the one leaving soon enough.
So instead, I turned back to Stella, grasping the saddle and swinging it off her back. The weight made my arms tremble, but I tightened my grip and edged around Stella.
“You are supposed to allow me to do that,” Nicholas said as I heaved the saddle onto its usual log.
“If I allow you to help every time,” I said, brushing my hands together, “I shall lose the ability to do it myself.”
He nodded. “And you are determined to do everything on your own.”
“I rely on myself,” I said briskly. “Is that such a flaw?”
“Only if it prevents you from relying on others.”
I moved to place my hands on my hips but felt a bit too much like a stubborn child, so I crossed my arms instead. “It sounds as though you have something you want to say to me.”
He stepped closer, crossing his arms as well. “Something was bothering you yesterday, and I would warrant it is still bothering you today.”
I did not speak, and my fingers clenched around my elbows.
His expression softened. “You do not have to tell me. But know you can, if you have need.”
I did want to tell him. About Papa, Edward, everything. But that was the problem. Should I want so desperately to bare such secrets to Nicholas? I’d known him for all of a fortnight. He hardly knew my family, even if he did seem to guess my thoughts and motivations with frightening accuracy.
Then again, I’d only known Edward a month before accepting his proposal.
Perhaps Nicholas’s limited knowledge would work to my advantage. He had no bias against the Bainbridges. Could he help me find a direction through this mess?
I released my hold on my elbows, lowering my arms. “I do have need.”
He blinked. He had not expected me to give in. But he recovered quickly. “Come.” He nodded at two smooth-topped rocks a few paces away. “I cannot promise to have answers, but I can promise to listen.”
After wrapping Stella’s reins around a branch, I settled myself on one of the rocks and arranged my skirts around my ankles. Nicholas sat beside me.
I braced my hands on the rock on either side of me. “I learned something the other day about my father.”
He nodded but did not speak.
I went on, desperate to get the words out before I lost my nerve. “I’ve always thought
my papa to be everything Mama said he was. Everything I remembered him to be. Honest. Kind. Honorable. But I found a letter.” I paused, Mr. Bainbridge’s word marching across my vision. “It was from Edward’s father and revealed that Papa had paid him a bribe to keep quiet a secret.”
“A secret?” Nicholas leaned forward. “What sort of secret?”
I shook my head. “It did not say. Only that it would have ruined my father and his company.”
“And you think this is what drove your families apart all those years ago?”
“Undoubtedly.” I rubbed my forehead. “Edward’s father was blackmailing mine, but Papa would not have paid if he were innocent of wrongdoing. I cannot come to terms with it all. I thought I knew who my father was, yet now . . .”
He listened with a deep frown, letting me speak.
“I hardly know what to do,” I said. “I feel I cannot talk to Mama or William without revealing my connection to Edward and his family, but the thought of Papa involved in any sort of dishonesty or cheating—” I let out a shaky breath. “I am lost, Nicholas. Truly lost.”
He moved his hand as if for a moment he meant to reach for mine, but instead, he balanced his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands together. “A question for you,” he said.
“All right.”
“If this is all the evidence you have seen against your father, why do you doubt him so quickly?”
I toyed with a fold in my skirts. “I suppose,” I said, “it is because this is the first time I’ve ever been forced to think of him differently. I’ve realized I do not know who he was, and that frightens me.”
“Do not be afraid of the truth,” Nicholas said. “Never that.”
“But there is so much I do not know still—”
“Then you should reserve judgment until you do know more.” His voice held a surety that I hadn’t felt in days. “If all other signs point to your father’s innocence, then you mustn’t jump to any hasty conclusions about his character.”
This puzzle still did not fit together quite right in my head, likely because I still missed far too many pieces. Yet, at his words, the breath I drew into my lungs felt lighter and the tension in my temples lessened. He was right, of course. I was worrying about something I could do nothing about without more information. For all I knew, this letter from Mr. Bainbridge was complete dross that my father had kept for some unknown reason.
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