“Says the only man here already with a wife,” Duncan pointed out.
Derek glared at him darkly. “Katherine is not a wife. She is a tyrant. A cold, heartless tyrant who exists merely to make my life more of a miserable hell than it already is.”
“Charming, Romeo. Please save your happy thoughts for a more appropriate time. Like a hanging,” Colin replied, putting his hand over Derek's face, and turning to Nathan. “Go, Nate. Go now.”
“I have nothing ready,” he protested lamely.
All of his friends laughed. “Please, Nathan,” Geoff said, clapping him on the back. “We all know you’ve yet to unpack a thing and that you have had a bag ready to go since you got here in case you changed your mind. We’ll look after things here until you return. Go!”
He looked at them all for a moment, then pushed back from the table and strode out of the door at a rather fast clip, bringing more laughter and some applause from his friends behind him.
Moira Dennison took a deep breath of the fresh air once she exited the building, hoping that somehow it would calm her slightly trembling body and addled brain. Her aunt Miriam would have been ashamed and sent her to the cellar for a week with nothing to eat but bread crusts had she known of this. Luckily for Moira, Aunt Miriam was six feet under the ground and nobody was left to care if she were to sell her soul to the devil or elope with a cobbler or join the circus or any other equally disastrous and ill-conceived action.
But even this was one deed that she never imagined herself undertaking.
Inviting a man she knew very little about, almost nothing, really, to accompany her alone, quite alone, across Lord knew how many miles so that she could find Charles and bring him back to Gillam so they could finally be married and put all the rumors and gossip to rest, was madness.
She shook her head and started to walk a bit. Pacing was hardly ladylike, but considering the show she had just put on for that table of rather ordinary looking men, she doubted anybody would consider her ladylike anymore anyway. Not that she cared all that much, she didn’t know them enough to care, but she did want to be respected.
The crazed woman that had just marched into a pub and told an entire table of men what she was going to do, what Mr. Hammond would be expected to do, and then marched back out again without breaking composure was surely deserving of a little respect. But as for little Moira Dennison… she just wanted to curl up under some wagon and cry until her body no longer shook with fear.
Three days. It had been three days since she had left Gillam, and she was no closer to figuring out what she was going to do than she had been weeks ago. Being from a small village had its advantages she was sure, but at the moment she knew of none. The pitying looks she received when people thought she wasn’t looking, the way a room would quiet when she entered, the soft snickers of other girls when she went for a letter and returned empty handed… She had had quite enough.
What drove her to bits was that if these people had known just who she was, not who they thought she was, but who the rest of the world would see her as, they would not have pitied, gossiped, or snickered. She was wealthy enough to buy up the whole village, force them all out, and fill all of their homes with sheep, should she have had the desire. Or goats. Goats were notoriously meaner and would be better than sheep at keeping unwanted people from her property.
But sadly, she had no goats or sheep. All she had was money, and she had no idea what to do with it. It had not been a part of her life since she was very young, and she had not been informed of it until much later in her life, under sworn secrecy. Not even her aunt had been aware of the magnitude of Moira’s inheritance, only that there was one.
Her biggest regret had been that Charles hadn’t known. Perhaps if he had known what would have been theirs, he wouldn’t have…
“Miss Dennison?”
Moira shook herself out of her melancholy reverie as soon as she heard her named called. That would be Mr. Hammond, no doubt coming to his senses and telling her to shove off and find someone else to bother about her love. Even so, she fixed her most determined, unflinching expression on her face, brushed the stray hairs away from her face, and turned to face the approaching footsteps with her hands on her hips.
He was much taller than she expected him to be, and rather imposing when headed in someone’s direction. She could see now what her source had been going on about. No one seeing this man would have doubted his authority or his power. Any man who wished to stand against him would be a fool three ways from Sunday, and would lose unquestionably.
It was a pity he would turn her down.
She swallowed and looked up at him. “Mr. Hammond?”
His dark eyes were unreadable as he stopped before her. “I apologize for not answering you promptly in there just now. I’m afraid you took me by surprise.”
She smiled without humor. “Yes, well, I fear I have that effect on people. At least, that is what I have been told. It’s a terrible flaw.”
Now he returned her smile, but his was one of genuine warmth, and suddenly her chest did not feel quite so tight. “Not necessarily, Miss Dennison. I am not one to mind surprises, as a general rule. But I daresay we shall find real flaws in each other soon enough.”
“I should hope not,” she said before she could stop herself. “I would rather keep my flaws to mys…” She stopped short as she realized what he said, and she tilted her head as her eyes widened. “We? So you are coming, then?”
He nodded, his eyes still on her and still mysterious. “Yes, Miss Dennison. I accept your offer.” His smile turned wry. “And now I anticipate your next command.”
Moira couldn’t decide how to respond to this reception. How could he be so casual about what they were about to undertake? Had he no care for her reputation, or his own? What sort of man had she just decided to trust her future with? She opted for confusion and frowned. “A command, sir? How could I command you in anything?”
His smile faded slightly at her tone, but not completely. “I spent nearly eight years in the army, Miss Dennison. I have grown quite accustomed to the sound of commands. And your behavior in The Horse and Rider just now mirrored some of the most terrifying commanding officers I have ever faced.”
She frowned slightly. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended by that comment, Mr. Hammond.”
“Nor do I, Miss Dennison,” he replied without missing a beat, “but you have commanded, I have seen fit to obey, and now await further orders.”
Moira had to force herself not to gape openly at him. She had not thought beyond getting him to come with her, and had fully planned on him being insistent on taking the lead in their expedition, expecting her to ride passively along with him. She had even been practicing her grumbling complaints about men and their expectations of women. Now she was supposed to believe that he was willing to bow to her unseemly demands, without question or concern and without pride, and go along with whatever she wanted, however she wanted?
How unnatural.
How disturbing.
How was that possible?
Once again, she had to swallow hard and fought to keep the fear from her face. “Very well, Mr. Hammond. I have secured a horse for myself, but was under the assumption that it would not be necessary to do so for you. Am I wrong?”
He shook his head, those dark eyes still fixed on her, as if assessing her. “No, I have a mount. I can be ready to leave immediately.”
Immediately. That was rather soon. She chewed on the inside of her cheek indecisively.
“If I may offer my opinion, Miss Dennison?” he said quietly, as if he could sense her turmoil.
“You may,” she allowed, waving her hand impatiently.
“The day is more than half gone. If we were to depart at this time, we would have to stop for the night before covering much ground. Perhaps if we left at first light? Then we would have a full day in which to begin.” He shrugged lightly, as if it made no difference to him. “Just a thought.”
It took all of Moira’s considerable self-control to avoid releasing a heaving sigh of relief. She could certainly put something together by first light tomorrow without a problem.
She nodded after appearing to give his suggestion some thought. “Very well, I believe that would be wise. Tomorrow at first light it is.” She allowed herself to smile up at him. “You see, Mr. Hammond? I knew you were the right man for this.” She turned and went to take her horse’s reins. “I shall meet you back here at first light tomorrow. Good day, Mr. Hammond.”
Proudly, with her head held higher than normal, she walked towards the boarding house she had passed a few buildings before, hoping for a vacancy. If there wasn’t one, she would make do with sleeping out in the stables behind. She had slept very well in less, and at this moment, all she cared about was that Mr. Hammond had said yes, and they would finally be on their way tomorrow. Everything was working out perfectly.
Chapter Two
As the first rays of morning light began to filter through the hills, Nathan rode atop his second best mount, Mercury, towards The Horse and Rider, where a lone figure stood beside her horse waiting for him. He smiled tightly to himself.
This Miss Dennison was an interesting woman. She was well-equipped for a long journey, if the state of her pack was any indication, and she was bundled up against the morning chill rather smartly. He found himself wondering how long she had been waiting for him, what sort of person she was in the morning, and, oddly enough, if she would be riding side-saddle or not.
Mercury shuffled anxiously beneath him, no doubt wanting to break off into a hair-raising gallop across the countryside. Nathan leaned down and patted him, soothing him softly. He had briefly considered taking his prized stallion Galahad, but bearing in mind that he was assumed to be a working man in need of funds and he had no intention of altering that opinion, he had settled on Mercury.
“We will be able to ride soon, my boy,” he soothed, rubbing his side gently. “Now behave for the lady, you hear me?”
The horse responded with a toss of his head and a snort, which he took to be an agreement.
“You have a fine ride there, Mr. Hammond,” Moira called as he approached.
He inclined his head. “You as well, Miss Dennison.” A mischievous impulse took over and he offered a smile. “Are you certain riding on horseback is what you would like? Perhaps a carriage? It is generally preferable for a lady.”
She bristled slightly, which made him smile to himself. Not a morning person, then. He suddenly had the urge to ruffle as many feathers as he could, just to see what lay beneath. “I am perfectly capable of riding on horseback,” she snapped, “and it is generally preferable for one’s hired help to keep his opinions to himself.”
Oh, but she was feisty. He liked feisty. He tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Of course, Miss Dennison.”
She scowled and muttered an insincere, “I trust you slept well? I hope you are fit to ride.”
He tried not to smile. “I slept very well, thank you.”
“How fortunate,” she said in a voice that indicated she couldn’t have cared less. “And your dreams? Were they as pleasant as you anticipated? I should hate for you to have been disappointed.”
He bit back a grin. “Alas, I cannot say that I was. I never dream, Miss Dennison.”
That actually seemed to surprise her a little, but she quickly recovered. “What, never?”
He shook his head. “Never.”
“What a pity that your sleep is as tepid as the tedium you call your life.”
His smile vanished and he now found himself stiffening. Tedium? Tepid? She had no idea what his life was like, what he had to contend with. All she knew about him was that he had been in the army and he was currently residing in Hampshire. Everything else she thought about him was a lie and he was of half a mind to tell her so when she waved a hand.
“Enough, I apologize. I fear my attempts to be accommodating this morning have left me quite shrewish. If you wish to ride away and leave me to the birds, I quite understand.” Her voice had almost no emotion in it, yet she would not meet his eyes.
He cocked his head, watching her with continued interest. Did she truly think their little bickering was enough to end this? He had quite a bit more stamina than that, he was proud to say. If he had to deal with temper and quick retorts and what had to be the furthest thing from demure he had ever encountered, so be it. It would make for an exciting journey and excellent tales, if nothing else.
“I am afraid that, tempting as it sounds, I cannot abandon you to the birds, Miss Dennison,” he said with a sigh. “Hampshire birds are notoriously picky as to their food, and as inviting a picture as you might present, you would find their disinterest disappointing, I am sure.”
He was finally graced with the sight of her eyes as they clashed with his, an odd mixture of confusion, relief, and amusement swirling about in them. “That is a relief, Mr. Hammond. I should not like to find someone else to take me. I spent quite enough time looking for you.”
He grunted as she turned to mount her horse. “Apologies that I was not more unavailable. If I had known someone was looking for me, I’d have hid myself better.” He watched her struggle, wondering if he should offer to help her. He highly doubted she would appreciate his gesture.
“That makes absolutely no sense, Mr. Hammond,” she said as she set her foot in the stirrups. “If someone was looking for you, shouldn’t you wish to be found quickly and have done with it?”
He considered her actions with interest. She was clearly struggling against the height of the horse and maintaining her maidenly modesty, yet she did not ask for help and nor, apparently, did she expect it. “If you knew some of the people that have looked for me in the past, you wouldn’t ask,” he said.
He heard her huff in irritation and smiled as she shoved some of her stray hairs out of her face. “Fair enough, I concede your point. I have no doubt you’ve spent quite some time avoiding being found. I can hardly blame you for that. I should like to avoid being found myself at times,” she added very quietly, as if to herself.
Nathan, who happened to possess a rather unnatural sense of hearing, picked up her soft words and wondered at them, but said nothing.
He exhaled and prepared to dismount and offer her assistance regardless when he heard her sigh and mutter, “Oh, to hell with it.” Then she hiked up her skirt slightly, flashing more than a touch of leg, and mounted her horse in one swift movement. Once seated, she readjusted her skirt and turned her horse to face the road.
He stared at her in complete shock, unable to respond.
“Is something amiss?” she asked superciliously.
Nathan was not entirely certain which “amiss” thing he should discuss first. All had stunned him out of thought and now he was trying to avoid the embarrassment of being found without a snappy retort, though he quite honestly would rather have complimented her on the lot.
Hastily, he chose. “Did you just say what I think I heard you say?”
She sniffed and her nose rose even higher, if it were possible. “I don’t believe you heard me say anything at all, Mr. Hammond.” She nudged her horse on, and he turned Mercury around quickly, riding up beside her.
“No, I am quite certain I heard you say something, Miss Dennison, and not something a well-bred lady would say.” He was ruffling more feathers, he knew, and soon enough she would snap at him and he could volley thinly veiled insults with her until his brain was clear again.
She glared at him, which was quite a thing to behold. “A gentleman would never accuse a lady of something of the sort, Mr. Hammond.” She turned to face forward again, her voice full of disdain. “But I forget that I am not with a gentleman, so I suppose I cannot expect gentlemanly behavior.”
He ground his teeth together and forced himself to speak with restraint. “Perhaps I could manage something resembling gentlemanly behavior if I were dealing with an actual lady.”
The momen
t he said it, he wished the words unsaid. Her head snapped around and the flash of hurt and vulnerability in her eyes surprised him. She rode on ahead before any other words passed his lips, and he was left cursing himself behind her.
With a groan, he urged Mercury on again until he was nearly beside her. She saw him from the corner of her eye and immediately began riding faster, but he matched her.
“I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Hammond,” she said airily, seemingly in control once more.
“Well, I have something to say to you, and I will say it. And when I have finished, I will fall back and let you have your precious solitude until you wish for me to speak again.” Well, that was certainly a well-spoken thing. So much for soothing wounded pride.
Her pale eyes flicked to him only briefly. “Very well. Say what you wish.”
He let out a breath and cleared his throat. “My words just now were spoken in anger, and were entirely inappropriate and rude, Miss Dennison. I apologize.”
She faced him now, her brow furrowed in confusion. “You do?”
“You doubt me?” he asked stiffly, more insulted that she doubted his sincerity than that she thought he was ungentlemanly.
“No, no, I believe you. I just didn’t think you would.” She tilted her head slightly. “I thought I needed to apologize to you for my words, yet again, and hardly expected you to apologize first.” She offered a very small smile. “I did not mean to slight you, nor to say you were not a gentleman… I mean, obviously you are not, but…” She winced and clamped her lips together.
Nathan chuckled softly. “It’s all right, Miss Dennison. I aim to act like a gentleman regardless of my station in life, as my mother raised me to be. Good manners should be universal, don’t you think?”
She nodded and sighed heavily. “It has been quite a morning for me, I find.”
An Arrangement of Sorts Page 2