by Betty Bolte
"A front porch!" She scratched the pencil over the paper, pushing the tip of her tongue between her lips as she worked, and soon sat back to judge the result. "Perfect."
Footsteps echoed in the passage. Nathaniel strode into the room. Her breath hitched and she mentally chastised herself for the idiotic reaction she experienced every time the man neared. Closing the sketch book, she laid it on the settee beside her. She composed herself as he approached to sit in a chair next to where she worked. He need not know how he affected her, for such knowledge would serve to encourage him.
"Good day, Lyn."
"My name is Evelyn, and good day to you."
"I am well aware of your name, my dear." Chuckling, he unbuttoned his coat as he adjusted his position on the hard seat. "Is this a good time for me to discuss my options with you?"
"Yes, I've finished my project." She laid the pencil on top of the book. Making an issue of the dispute regarding his use of a nickname would be to no purpose. "Where do you wish to start?"
He hesitated for the time it took to draw in a long breath and release it. "I cannot help myself. I've tried, but all I can think of is... you."
"Excuse me?" Such a startling beginning to the conversation. She swallowed, striving to maintain her recently restored comportment. "What, pray tell, is your meaning?"
"I do not know what will happen in my future, but I do know what I'd like to have happen in my present." Nathaniel crossed his legs and grinned at her. "See, my sweet, I wish to wait upon you."
"But—"
He held up a hand to stop her protest. "I understand you are technically in mourning, but I also know you didn't love the man."
She frowned as she blinked at Nathaniel. "How do you know such?"
"Amy informed me of your relationship with your husband. How he treated you and was suspected of poisoning you." He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. "The way I see it, you should be celebrating your widowhood."
"Celebrate?" Shock ricocheted in her chest. He spoke of her marriage in terms she'd never employed. Coupled with the blatant desire to woo her, his speech crashed against her sensibilities, upsetting her so her hands trembled.
"You're free from him, and that means..." His gaze flicked from hers to rest on her mouth as lightly as a butterfly before returning to delve into her astonished gaze. "That means, you are also able to accept me waiting upon you with the intent of discovering if we are a happy match."
"Your reasoning defies logic." Why was her heart racing at his proposition then? "Only three months have passed since my current marital state began."
He bobbed his head several times, his smile growing. "Exactly. Long enough for a decent mourning and short enough to enable us to become better acquainted."
"Why would you know what is proper in terms of mourning?"
His smile tightened but clung to his lips. He sat back with a thump. "Because I lost my wife last year. So I understand. But life goes on, and we must live our lives. Perhaps together, depending on what we discover as we get to know one another."
She stared at him, her thoughts spinning and tumbling as she contemplated exactly what he asked. The temptation to agree surfaced, but she submerged it back into the depths of her soul. She didn't dare succumb to the wanton urges simmering beneath her calm facade. The inexplicable desire to touch the handsome, fun, oh-so-dangerous man surged until she was forced to stand and turn away. She studied the pattern of the wallpaper, focusing on the fine detail of the birds of paradise and bouquets of lilies. Slowly, she regained her composure. Taking a deep breath, she pivoted to face her earnest admirer.
"You need one important thing before you can attain your goal." She considered her next words for several slow deep breaths. "My agreement."
He rose and crossed the room to clasp her hands with his larger and stronger ones. "All I ask, Lyn, is for us to have a chance. Please?"
She was so tempted to say yes, but she had to remain firm in her resolve. For her son's sake. And for her heart's. She swallowed the tears threatening to escape, aware that if they made an appearance she'd seem weak. "I cannot."
"Lyn, reconsider, I beg of you." Nathaniel squeezed her hands, a quick press and relaxation, but held onto them. "You needn't decide in this moment. Take some time to think upon the matter before you deny my plea."
She pulled her hands from his grasp and folded her arms. She couldn't think with him touching her. Couldn't puzzle out an answer to his question with him gazing at her with imploring eyes. "Very well. I'll consider your request, but do not expect me to agree."
"Thank you." He sighed his relief at her words. "I will endeavor to maintain my distance until I have your answer."
"See that you do." She dropped her hands and turned to pick up her book. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
"I'll look forward to the pleasure of your company at dinner then." Nathaniel stopped at the open door to wink at her. "See you later, Lyn."
She nodded as he flashed her a grin and then strode out of sight down the hall. She hugged the sketch book to her chest and stared at the empty room. Gramercy. He held out hope she'd change her mind. She had seen it in his expression, in the swing of his stride. She sank back onto the settee, going over their conversation, his plea, and his intent. She sighed and leaned her head against the tall back of the couch. What had she done?
Chapter 6
The early morning sunlight shimmered on the bowed sides of the fish crowded onto the table. The market was busy on this cold winter day. Evelyn let her gaze drift over the plentiful offerings displayed on tables and hanging from ropes strung between poles. Mingled among the food booths were jewelry, sweetgrass baskets, braided rugs, and more. She needed to replace a damaged basket, but first she must find something for dinner. Not that the cook couldn't have made the trip to the marketplace. Evelyn had wanted an excuse to leave the house for a time, so when the cook had muttered something about having to brave the cold, she'd eagerly volunteered.
She turned back to the fish. The merchant displayed a large variety, including seatrout, red drum, and perch. Evelyn examined a silver seatrout, its distinctive spots marching from nose to dark finned tail. A good weight, about four pounds. She sniffed its aroma and nodded to the seller. "I'll take four."
The seller pulled out a large piece of brown paper and carefully began wrapping the fish. While she waited, she skimmed the market area with her gaze. The place resounded with the hawkers' raised voices advertising their wares. Children dashed between the stands, chasing each other with abandon and shouts of laughter. The smell of hot bread battled with the stronger aroma of the fresh fish.
"Quite a gathering today."
She jumped and spun toward the familiar voice, her heavy cloak eddying about her legs when she stopped. Her pulse kicked and she swallowed to restore her equilibrium. "Nathaniel, you startled me."
"Please, call me Nat." He inclined his head. "And I am sorry. But I'm surprised to find you among the fish. What are you doing here?"
She shrugged as she slipped a hand inside her cloak to pull a purse from her skirt pocket. "I offered to save our cook the trouble of venturing out into the cold." She searched inside the cloth bag for the coins necessary to pay the seller.
"Here, allow me." Nathaniel rummaged in his pocket and then dropped several coins onto the man's waiting palm.
"You didn't need to do that." She closed her purse and put it away. She looked up at him, detecting laughter in his expression. He seemed rather jolly for a man who happened to be at the market. "Besides, you're our guest."
"As such, I feel an obligation to contribute to the larder when possible." His smile grew as he pointed to the basket hanging from her arm. "May I?"
"I can manage, but thank you." She let the seller drop the package in the basket. Despite holding the basket with both hands, the sudden weight nearly made the container fall onto the sandy ground. She hadn't done the math to calculate the multiplied weight of th
e fish. Sixteen pounds proved heavy indeed. "Perhaps I'll take you up on your offer."
Nathaniel grasped the handle and lifted the basket from her hands as though it weighed no more than a hen's egg. "My pleasure."
"Tell me what brings you to the market." She led the way through the booths, dodging behind a gentleman and his hunting dogs. Her senses hummed with awareness of the man close behind her, imagining the gentle breeze of his personality mingling and consorting with her own. She suppressed a shiver. "Somehow, I don't believe it's your usual haunt."
Nathaniel chuckled as he drew abreast of her. "I came in search of you."
She glanced up, brows raised, her heart in her throat. She hadn't yet decided how to tell him she couldn't give her assent to his proposition. Though she'd tossed in bed the last two nights because of his sincere plea. Unfortunately, her body had not understood the message from her brain. "Why?"
"I believe you know why." He barked a laugh, shifting the basket to his other hand. "To be honest, you have weighed on my mind so much I had to find you. To hear your voice."
"So you've found me and heard me speak." She waved him off, unsettled by his words more than she'd say. To be missed and longed for proved a new sensation that rocked her to the core. "You've accomplished your mission."
"In one way, yes." He paused beside her at the array of sweetgrass baskets on and around several tables. "Now I have given myself another mission."
"What, pray tell, might your newly defined mission be?" She inspected a basket designed to carry bottles of wine, its intricate weave a work of art. Anything to not look up into the smiling eyes of the man beside her. She needn't indulge in the temptation. She sensed his every movement, every sound, every breath.
"I will escort you until your shopping is completed and have arrived safely home." He laughed, a rich merry sound reverberating in her chest. "You can't object to that."
"If you insist." She lifted another basket to inspect, a wide deep one with a curved handle. "I shan't be much longer as I need to return to my son."
"He's at the house?" Nathaniel shifted his weight to one hip, patiently waiting for her to make a selection.
"Yes, with his nursemaid." She went to set the basket down only to fumble it to the ground.
She reached to retrieve it as Nathaniel bent to do the same. He bumped into her, knocking her sideways. She splayed her hands to catch herself only to have Nathaniel grasp her arms to steady her. A sensation akin to lightning ripping across the sky flashed through her as she locked gazes with him. The shock proved much like the fear when a thunderstorm accosted her home. Time stood still for the span of several breaths. She detected from the startled look in his eyes that he experienced the same reaction. Slowly he released her, as if reluctant to end the contact, and retrieved the basket.
"Th-thank you." She stepped back, trembling and on fire, as he set the container on the table. With shaky hands, she pulled out her purse and handed the money to the woman watching them with intense interest. Time to steer the conversation back to neutral territory so she could restore her composure. On a breath, she pasted a smile on her lips. "Where were we? Oh, yes. I had to hire the woman after my slave ran off with the British last year. Very inconvenient for me, and dangerous for her."
Nathaniel accepted the basket from the seller with a nod. "I do hope the Britons honor their promises. But I have heard the slaves who followed them ended up worse off than before."
"I have heard the same." She slipped her purse into her pocket and gazed up at Nathaniel, towering over her much like a tall, straight pine tree lording over a sapling. "Have you started your new job yet?"
"Not yet, but soon." He glanced away and then back at her. "It's not what I'd prefer to do, but at least it will afford me income."
She made the mistake of meeting his gaze, an answering smile springing unbidden onto her lips. Lord, he attracted her despite her resolve to remain unmoved and unmarried. His steel gray eyes rimmed with black displayed merriment. Nut-brown locks glinted with gold, alluring her fingers with anticipated delight. His classic features, strong chin and high cheekbones, gave him the appearance of a Greek god. Perhaps a brunette Bellerophon, the mythical rider of Pegasus. The more time she spent in his company, the more she contemplated following Amy's advice. She could do worse than to marry Nathaniel Williams. Was she ready to embark on a new relationship?
"My parents are pleased to have you remain with them as long as you need lodgings." Evelyn turned to stroll toward the table filled with candles, contradictorily pleased when Nathaniel fell into step beside her. What was wrong with her? She didn't want his attention but longed to be with him. She mentally shook herself. She had to focus on her plans and leave him to his. "Unless you decide you will stay permanently and want your own home."
"Living within the bounds of a city does not appeal to me." Nathaniel held both baskets, one in each hand, as he stopped beside her. "In fact, my plans remain in a state of flux as I continue to identify my options."
"We didn't get very far in that discussion, did we?" For a very simple reason which she wouldn't raise.
She selected several bayberry candles and paid for them. She placed the candles in the new basket, nearly dropping them when her hand accidentally brushed Nathaniel's where he gripped the handle. She pulled her hand away and flashed a glance at his smiling countenance. Gramercy. Stepping away, she increased the space between them, only to have him move closer.
"In a hurry?" Nathaniel chuckled as he strode beside her.
"Like I said, I need to return to my son as soon as possible." At least little Jim's need to nurse provided an excuse for her to flee home. But not away from Nathaniel, she realized, as he matched her pace. "Then your mission will be completed as well."
He laughed, the sound echoing in the cold morning air. "Pray don't run away on my account, Lyn. I do not mind escorting you on your errands, no matter how long you are out and about."
Mayhap not, but Evelyn didn't know how long she could resist his attentions, his company, and the compelling desire to touch him. "You may have the leisure to dawdle, but my chores await."
He matched her quick stride with ease and grace. "Anything I can do to help you?"
"Not unless you know how to nurse a baby." She tossed him a glance, a smile springing to her mouth as he shook his head with seeming remorse. "Then you'll have to be content to simply walk me home and then leave me to do your own tasks."
"If you insist." He chuckled as they turned onto Queen Street and strolled east in the direction of the Cooper river, lying beyond their destination. "I would not mind waiting until you have finished."
She laughed at his pleading tone. "You'd be bored sitting idle for so long."
"More than likely, but I'd enjoy your presence as a reward for my patience." He shifted the basket of fish to his other hand and then took her hand in his as they neared their final turn on Meeting.
She wanted to withdraw her hand and yet couldn't make herself pull away from the long-awaited contact. The pressure of his hand wrapped around her fingers soothed the agitation in her chest. "I'm sure you must have better ways to occupy yourself."
"None come to mind when I'm with you, Lyn." He squeezed her hand and swung their joined hands to and fro.
His declaration swept joy through her, and she laughed at the fun she experienced whenever she spent time with Nathaniel. Perhaps she could consider agreeing to his request to see her, to court her, to make love with her. "We'll have to think of something then to distract you while I retire to my room."
"You're my distraction, Lyn." He tugged her to a halt at the bottom of the steps leading into the three-story brick house. "Whether I'm with or without you, I can think of nothing else but how much I enjoy your company and how much I desire to become better acquainted."
She stood on the edge of an emotional cliff. Did she dare to take the next step, the one that would surely send her plummeting into a relationship with the man searching her expression with
such hope?
The door opened and Jemma, holding Jim on her hip, grinned at them with a knowing smirk.
Evelyn nodded to her and then looked into Nathaniel's adoring eyes. "We should go in."
Chapter 7
The next afternoon brought a happy respite from the more serious consideration of Nathaniel's proposition. With each pierce and tug of the threaded needle, Evelyn imagined wearing her new gown. Sewing her own dresses, much like tending her garden or cleaning her house, satisfied a bone-deep desire to be self-sufficient. A trait she intended to instill in her son as he grew. The sumptuous fabric, draped across her lap, lingered in her fingers. Because she intended to wear it only for more formal occasions, she had not sewn in openings on each breast to allow for nursing her son, like the one she wore. The flaps required to cover the holes prevented the proper drape of the fabric. Thus, she'd chosen to finish it as a normal costume.
She resisted the urge to hold the nearly finished garment against her chest and dance around the small parlor of Frank and Emily's home. She and Amy had decided an outing would improve their moods, so they had gathered their things and hurried to the three-story brick mansion on King Street. Before long, she'd have her wardrobe expanded with the lovely item.
Glancing up at her female companions, she smiled at the tableau before her. Emily worked on some fancy stitching to decorate a gentleman's waistcoat. She'd used too many colors for Evelyn to count on the exquisite pattern. The complicated embroidery was far beyond Evelyn's talents. She predicted her cousin's shop would prove a success with such beautiful work for sale. Tommy, her one-year-old adopted son, busied himself by playing with a leather ball stuffed with cotton. His nursemaid, Jasmine, worked on mending socks, keeping an eye on her young charge.