But perhaps this moment, void of people and rather filled with only the gulls and the crabs likely lurking beneath some of the rocks nearby, could bring about a type of healing.
He eased his way onto his back, removing his jacket in the warm sun and placing it under his head in a pillow of sorts. Nathaniel wasn’t sure how long he lay there, enjoying the moment, but when he heard footsteps approaching through the sand behind him, he sat up and whirled about, reaching for the weapon at his side that was only there in his memory.
Daisy stood still behind him, her hands raised in front of her as though she were guarding herself.
“Careful now,” she said, lowering her hands and cautiously walking toward him. “I was only walking by and I didn’t see you until the last moment. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
With a swish of her muslin skirts the color of the sky overhead and a billow of her cloak the color of the sand, she kept walking past him down the beach, but something made him call out to her, telling her to stop.
“Daisy!” he shouted over the sounds of the waves, and she turned back toward him, her eyes wide in surprise.
“Ah, Miss Tavners,” he amended as she returned to him, standing in front of him as though in wait for whatever it was he had to say. Though the truth of it was, he really had nothing in particular he needed of her. He simply… wanted some company, even if it was her. The truth of it hit him fiercely, and he was only glad she had no way of knowing what he was thinking, for it not only sent a slice of pain through him, but was also rather embarrassing.
“Can I help you with anything?” she asked, but he was momentarily distracted by the dark tendrils of hair that had escaped her chignon and were now flying around her unadorned head. “Would you like a hand?”
Nathaniel simply grunted at her suggestion that he might need help, and he waved her offered palm away. He was not going to rely on a woman to help lift him from his position on the ground. He might be weakened some, but he was not completely helpless.
“Sit with me,” he commanded, and she crossed her arms over her chest, quirking up one eyebrow. Nathaniel sighed and rephrased his request. “Miss Tavners, would you be so kind as to please sit with me a moment?”
She cocked her head to the side as she considered him, but finally good manners — or perhaps curiosity — prevailed, and she relented.
“Very well,” she said. “But just for a moment. I have much to do.”
“And what keeps you so busy today?” he asked, looking out at the ocean instead of at her, for he was too afraid that he would like what he saw. Why, he had no idea. Her younger sister — Iris, he thought — was much more of a classic beauty, with the curves to match. But there was something about this one that spoke to him, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Perhaps he was too accustomed to battle and therefore was enjoying her contrary manner.
“The usual,” she said with a shrug. “The markets for tonight’s dinner, a quick visit with my friend Millie at the blacksmith’s, and then returning home to clean and prepare said dinner.”
“You do this, day after day?” he asked, hardly able to imagine such an existence.
“I do,” she confirmed. “It is what most do, Mr. Hawke, as the majority of people have to work for a living.”
He snorted. “I understand that. I am not an idiot.”
“Well, what do you do, then? Clearly you are from some wealth.”
He nodded slowly, unsure of how much to tell her. Part of it was keeping enough of his life a secret so as to not betray the army, the other was a question of how much he wanted to open himself up to her.
“My family does have some money, it’s true,” he said slowly, “However, I myself, as you know, was a soldier. Am a soldier.”
“This was how you were injured.”
“It was,” he nodded.
“What happened? Where were you?”
Once again, Nathaniel paused for a moment as he was unsure of how to share the story. The truth was always easiest, but he would keep to the truth without any details.
“We were in France,” he began, seeing images begin to flash before his eyes, this quiet, peaceful beach suddenly becoming a battlefield in front of him, men barreling into one another, the sounds of swords clashing against each other and the boom of firing cannons filling his ears. The smell of gunpowder and the scent of blood permeated his senses, and he closed his eyes to try to block it all out and focus on what he was telling her. He cleared his throat.
“We were fighting Napoleon’s forces. It was a bloody battle, one in which both sides were determined to come out victorious, no matter the cost. I was… distracted, and was approached from behind. The man sliced through my calf. My legs buckled underneath me. I fell, and as I did I must have hit my head. The next thing I can remember, I was off the battlefield and in a cot upon the ground just beyond the battle. Apparently, I was out of consciousness for quite some time, for my fellow soldiers carried me to the trenches, where I was for who knows how long before they could move me. I was told my head would be fine, but my leg… well, the doctor wasn’t entirely sure what would become of it.”
Finally, he risked a glance over to Daisy, who was listening with her eyes wide.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said, and for once, her voice was filled with sincerity. “I cannot imagine the pain.”
“At the time, I hardly noticed it. It’s later, when the infection begins to set in, along with the realization that you will never be the man you once were — that’s when the pain really begins.”
“I can see how you would feel that way,” she said, and then surprised him by placing a hand on his knee as she leaned into him, intent with the words she spoke. “But you must understand that compared to many, you were lucky. There have been men from our village — boys really — who have gone to fight and never returned, losing their lives in the process. Or there are men who are completely scarred or have lost entire limbs. Surely that would be worse.”
“Of course it would,” he said abruptly, jerking back away from her. “Do you not think that I have seen all of that, lived through it?”
“I never suggested you didn’t,” she said, removing her hand, placing it back in her lap. “I was only trying to remind you of what you still have.”
The fact that it was hurt rather than her typical anger lacing her words at his reaction caused guilt to course through Nathaniel, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to apologize for lashing out at her.
“I, ah, I didn’t mean…”
“You are upset,” she said carefully, her voice returning to its practical manner. “Which you have a right to be. War is a horrible thing, and often the very cause is not worth the sacrifice.”
“In this instance, it is — to keep France’s little Emperor from taking over the rest of Europe.”
“Of course,” she said softly, and he nodded, anxiety filling him at his helplessness, that he was sitting here on this damn beach when he should be doing something else to fight.
“What are you doing here?” she asked suddenly, almost as though she could hear his thoughts.
“Your sister suggested the beach would be a nice place to visit,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding her question, hoping she would drop it.
“No, I mean here, in Southwold. Most of our guests are here because they are visiting nearby family, or come in the warmer seasons because they want to spend time near the ocean. Some are passing through for one reason or another, usually staying no more than a night. But you — you are just here.”
He chuckled, evading her question. “Let me guess — you want me to leave?”
“You worry me.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“No one has any idea who you are or what you are doing here. You act as though you are a man who expects those around him to treat him with deference — but why? You were a soldier. You should be used to looking after yourself, should you not?”
He smi
led slightly. He had been high enough in the army that there were others assigned to see to his needs, though he didn’t often utilize their services for there was much else to be done.
“I suppose you have the right of it.”
She stared at him with some consternation.
“You’re really not going to tell me anything about yourself, are you?”
“On the contrary,” he said. “I can tell you many things. I enjoy dancing — or I did, before this injury. I enjoy a good game of whist, though I despise faro. I have a sister who I adore. And I think very soon I will see about getting a dog.”
“You are mocking me, sir.”
“I am doing no such thing. I am telling you about myself, my life. Before you ask, I am not married because I knew I wanted to fight and had no wish to leave a wife behind.”
Her cheeks colored at his words. “I never asked.”
“You did not, but I knew you wondered all the same,” he countered, enjoying seeing her flustered. “Now I ask you — where is your husband? You are well past the age of marriage, are you not?”
“That is rather rude,” she said, her irritation turning to what was nearly anger.
“I thought we were being candid with one another.”
“Very well, then, Mr. Hawke,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Do you want to know the truth of it? I also thought I would be married by now. In fact, all over the county, it was thought that I would be married to Lord Stephen Carter, Baron of Mansel, who is our local noble. At the time he was not yet the baron, but of course, he was always going to be.”
“And then…?”
“And then his father passed, and the family’s closest friends came to visit following the mourning period, including the Darlington family. Stephen was suddenly quite taken with Lady Almira Darlington, and upon the urging of their mothers, he found that she would make a much better baroness than the daughter of an innkeeper.”
“I see,” he murmured. Her story was short, all of the emotion omitted, but even with those few words, Nathaniel now had a better understanding of why she was so surly, untrusting, and not particularly pleasant when it came to her opinion of men or the nobility — both of which he was now decidedly a part.
“If you ask me, I think you should be grateful to Lady Almira.”
“Grateful?” she looked at him incredulously.
“If it wasn’t for her, you could now be married to the bounder, and he doesn’t sound as though he is the sort of man to whom you would want to be tied for the rest of your life.”
“I am surprised at you, Mr. Hawke,” she said with raised eyebrows. “I thought you would defend Lord Mansel.”
“Why?” he shrugged. “Because I am a man, myself? Did he, or did he not, Miss Tavners, provide you with the impression that he would marry you?”
“He most decidedly did.”
“Then I remain within my original stance,” he said with a nod. “For a man may have his fun, but to commit and then renege, that is unforgivable.”
Nathaniel most often saw this type of behavior when it came to men who signed on to fight, believing in the romanticism of it all, but then they backed out the moment they saw blood. He supposed it was the same type of thought in this instance.
“Well,” she said, looking down, apparently unsure how to respond to him now that he was on her side rather than arguing against her. “I best be going. Do you… need a hand?”
“I do not.”
He did, but he would never admit it, especially to her.
“Very well. I shall see you later today. Good day, Mr. Hawke.”
And with that, she stood, much more gracefully than he certainly would, and began to all but run down the beach, her blue skirts and buff cloak blending in with the shore surrounding her.
7
Daisy was most decidedly flustered. And she didn’t like it — not one bit.
“Oh, Millie, I don’t know what I was thinking, but the story just… came out!” She said to her friend during her quick stop at the blacksmith’s, made shorter due to the time she had spent with Mr. Hawke. Why she had stopped, she had no idea. “What would possess me to share with Mr. Hawke the story that had caused me to be the laughingstock of Southwold for a few months?”
“I wouldn’t say you were the laughingstock,” Millie said kindly. “Lord Mansel was also not seen in a particularly good light.”
“Either way, we were both certainly on the tongue of the town gossips for some time. Along with the discussion of the beauty of Lady Almira. For no one could deny that her looks were what turned his head.”
“You are just as beautiful,” Millie said with a smile.
“You must say that because you are my friend,” Daisy sighed. “However, I thank you nonetheless.”
“How interesting that this Mr. Hawke, who you claim to be so surly and such a pest, came to your defense,” Millie said, raising her eyebrows as she turned from her task of cleaning her father’s shop to look at Daisy.
Daisy simply shrugged.
“I was rather taken aback as well.”
“I can hardly wait to meet him myself,” Millie said, turning her full attention on Daisy now. “I hear he is rather handsome.”
A sick feeling filled Daisy’s belly. She wasn’t— no, she couldn’t be jealous of her friend’s interest in Mr. Hawke? Of course not. She was simply looking out for Millie, that was all. Besides that, her friend was already smitten with her fisherman, Burt.
“He may be a good-looking man, that much is true,” Daisy replied. “But for one, he is altogether mysterious. No one knows how long he will be here, nor what he is actually doing here. It is suspicious.”
“Perhaps it has something to do with his war effort,” Millie said diplomatically, and when Daisy raised her eyebrows, Millie threw up her hands. “Yes, I know! I will side with you, Daisy. And I will be wary of the gentleman until he proves himself to us otherwise. It’s only that you have been overly cautious since Stephen. Perhaps it is time you gave another man an opportunity.”
“I am fine with my life as it currently is,” Daisy said. “Besides, who would look after the inn?”
“Your parents — the owners?” Millie suggested, beginning what had long been an argument between them, for Millie felt that Daisy’s parents placed far too heavy a burden on Daisy’s shoulders. Millie may somewhat have the right of it, but Daisy didn’t mind managing most of the duties at the inn. It kept her busy, and she liked keeping her hands and her mind occupied.
“Yes, but they need help. They are not young anymore.”
“Then they should hire help.”
“They cannot afford it.”
“Which I do not entirely understand.”
Daisy sighed. “Nor do I, Millie, to be honest, but my father is hardly forthcoming with that information.”
“He shares the burden but not the information?”
“Millie…”
“I’m sorry, Daisy, I can’t help but be protective of you,” Millie said, placing her hands on the countertop in front of her. “Very well. On to other things. Have you chosen a dress for tomorrow evening?”
“Tomorrow?”
“For the dance!” Millie exclaimed.
“The one at Stephen’s house?” Daisy asked with a bit of a laugh, “Oh, I will most certainly not be in attendance.”
“But you must!” Millie protested. “All of Southwold will be there!”
“Except me.”
“Daisy…”
“Millie. I am sorry, but I just cannot bring myself to go. To have everyone look between me — alone — and Stephen with his bride? There is much I can face, but not that. Please don’t make me.”
“Very well,” Millie said with a sigh. “But you know I shall miss you.”
“See that you do,” Daisy said with a laugh. “Well, I really must be going. It was lovely to see you.”
“And you.”
With thoughts swirling in her head of tomorrow’s dance, includ
ing wondering whether Millie and Mr. Hawke would get along, Daisy emerged from the blacksmith’s shop into the bright daylight, blinking her eyes rapidly as she hurried to get back to her duties.
She had much to do, which certainly didn’t leave time for fanciful thoughts such as these.
* * *
While walking along the beach and through the town of Southwold hadn’t exactly rid him of his boredom and his need to be active, at the very least it cleared his head and allowed Nathaniel to feel a little less closed in than he had previously.
He did the same the next day, though he found himself alone on the beach this time. He tried to deny the fact that he actually felt a bit bereft without Daisy’s presence, but he supposed this was what happened when one was alone for too long. Instead, his mind turned to the battlefront, as he wondered if the army had managed to yet begin the strategy based on the plans he had stolen. He hadn’t heard anything, but then, news often took a long time to reach English soil.
When Nathaniel returned to the Wild Rose Inn, his mind was working feverishly, and he asked Tavners for a pen and paper. He might not be able to do anything himself, but at the very least he could keep his mind fresh, could he not?
Nathaniel became so engrossed in writing out what would be his own battle strategy that he hardly noticed what was happening around him. When the eldest Johnson daughter stumbled into him with a quick, “Sorry, Mr. Hawke!” he finally looked up and saw she was running into another room with fabric in her arms, pieces of it trailing behind her.
It was only then that he realized he hadn’t seen the Tavners sisters in some time, and Mrs. Johnson flew through the shared sitting room wearing what he assumed was her Sunday best.
When they were called for supper an hour earlier than usual, he knew something was amiss. Then three of the Tavners sisters came in to serve wearing intricate hairstyles, ribbons, and smiles of anticipation — though still in their working dresses — and he realized he had clearly missed an invitation, not that he had been looking for one.
A Duke for Daisy: The Blooming Brides Book 1 Page 4