Nelle looked back down at the dog and continued scratching Samson’s head. He tilted his head, enjoying the attention immensely.
“Do we know each other?” Mathew asked.
“It’s been some years…before your Harvard days, I think,” Nelle said, keeping her gaze on the dog, for she was in danger of blushing. Mathew made no move to climb off his horse or to extend his hand in greeting, so she contented herself with paying attention to the dog.
He was quiet, and she finally raised her gaze. He’d taken off his hat and was studying her now, his expression perplexed. She couldn’t quite make out the color of his eyes—brown, blue? They seemed gray in the shade.
“Nelle Thompson,” she said. “Corinne Ashton is my aunt.”
“Ah,” Mathew said, although he didn’t look like that information had helped much. His brows lifted. “Your parents…I heard something…” He stopped and cleared his throat. “I’m very sorry to hear about what happened to them.”
“Thank you,” Nelle murmured. He'd heard something? Just like with every other person, her tragedy was something for him to remark upon and then forget soon after. She moved away from the dog. “I should be going now.”
“Where are you going?” Mathew asked.
She glanced at him. “To town.”
“Then you’re going the wrong direction.”
Heat filled Nelle’s face, but she simply turned and started past Mathew to meet up with the other side of the trail.
“Were you lost?” Mathew called after her.
“Not any more, thank you,” Nelle said, refusing to look at him.
The dog started barking again, and she thought she heard Mathew chuckle.
Chapter Seven
Mathew stared after the retreating form of Nelle Thompson. He had not recognized her, and she’d seemed disappointed by that. But the Nelle Thompson of today was not the lanky girl with two braids that he remembered. This Nelle was still tall, but she had the curves of a woman now and the eyes of someone who'd experienced too much sorrow in her young life.
She couldn’t be more than nineteen or twenty, he guessed. Yet both of her parents had been tragically killed. Mathew could kick himself for not saying something kinder to her. She had been gracious in response, but nothing changed in her eyes. They still had that emptiness in them, only to be broken up when she was petting his infernal dog.
“Samson, over here,” Mathew called to the dog as it tried to follow Nelle. Mathew had the keen sense that she'd been running from something and had wanted to be left alone, for most women flirted with him—some quite outrageously. Not that he expected to come upon a woman in the woods suddenly or that she would turn into a flirting vixen, but he had sensed no reaction toward himself in that way from her.
Which was the opposite of his reaction. That’s what bothered him the most. He was practically engaged to Nelle’s cousin, Alice, at least, according to their mothers. Mathew hadn’t actually proposed to Alice yet because, well, he didn’t feel any urgency.
He’d used the excuse of Alice being only eighteen, and so, what was the rush? But he’d never had the urge to stop everything he was doing and catch a stray wisp of her hair in his fingers or brush his fingers along her smooth skin. But when he’d spotted Nelle, climbing to her feet, tendrils of her hair having escaped her rather tight bun beneath her sun hat, he’d had the sudden desire to leap off his horse and help her.
So he’d decided to stay firmly in the saddle.
No, Nelle didn’t look like the girl he’d met a couple of times over the years, when her family visited the Ashtons. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been with Alice. It must have been a few years back because Nelle had changed so much. Or had he not truly seen her before?
Samson barked and ran ahead.
“I said no,” Mathew called out. “We’re not following the lady. We’re here to find birds and foxes and other critters—not women.” The last one he whispered mostly to himself, though he couldn’t help but share Samson’s curiosity about Nelle Thompson.
But the dog was getting farther and farther ahead of him. Why Mathew hadn’t trained the animal sooner, he didn’t know. He shouldn’t have even brought Samson out this far. Who knew how long it would take him to corral the dog back home.
When Samson turned left and took a smaller trail, Mathew frowned. Had the dog picked up a fox’s scent after all? Nelle should have stayed on the main path if she were walking toward town.
But around the next bend, Mathew reached a meadow, only to find Nelle sitting on a rock, her chin propped on her hands.
When she saw him, she stood, a sheepish look on her face.
“Miss Thompson?”
“I suppose I should fully admit that I am well and truly lost.” She’d taken off her hat, and, as she stepped forward, the sunlight landed on her deep auburn hair, making it shine like copper.
Perhaps she did look a bit like a fox, Mathew thought.
Samson bounded up to her, wagging his tail furiously and licked her hand. She just smiled and scratched the dog’s head, and Mathew suddenly felt a bit jealous of his dog. That’s madness, he scolded himself.
“I’ll take you into town,” Mathew offered. He dismounted his horse and held out his hand. “Come, we’ll ride together. You can’t possibly get lost then.”
Nelle looked from the dog to Mathew. “Have you ever been lost?”
He was surprised by the question and he had to think about his answer. “I don’t recall. Perhaps when I was younger.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I have.”
She exhaled and put her hat back on. Then she pulled on the gloves that she’d also taken off. “You’re a fortunate man. I feel like I’ve been lost for months, possibly years.”
Mathew was so stunned by this response that he had no idea how to reply.
Nelle stepped forward and took hold of the saddle. When Mathew realized that she meant to ride, he helped her up, then he mounted behind her.
It was probably not such a good idea to be pressed close against her, but it was necessary to sit this close when two people were riding the same horse. Nelle remained upright, never relaxing back against him, and he didn’t hold onto her any tighter than necessary. As they rode along the forest trail, Mathew was aware of the scent of new roses, the smoothness of the skin on her neck, and the delicate fabric of her dress.
Mathew exhaled carefully, trying to keep his thoughts beyond what she’d said in the forest, but it seemed impossible. What had she meant about being lost? He knew both her parents had been killed—but that was recently, and she’d said months and years. He wanted to ask her more, but it felt like too intimate of a conversation. And he didn’t have the right. He didn’t know her and hadn’t even recognized her until she’d told him who she was.
Yet, it was as if she had opened her soul and showed a piece of it to him.
Alice, he thought. Think about Alice, not this fragile creature that you are escorting into town and whose skin smells like a newly bloomed rose.
He decided to focus, instead, on the weather. The sun was high in the sky now, but the heat of the summer hadn’t quite started. It was a softer warmth, and the surrounding plants and trees of the countryside were a new green. He loved this time of year—after the spring planting and before the heat set in.
“How is your sister?” Nelle asked, breaking into his thoughts.
Mathew was surprised by the question. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been. It was a fine way to start polite conversation. And if there was one thing he remembered about Nelle’s mother, Mrs. Thompson, it was that she was a society lady through and through.
“She is well,” Mathew said, “living upstate with her husband. They have two children now.”
“Oh, how lovely,” Nelle said.
But her tone sounded wistful, which made Mathew only more curious. He couldn’t remember his sister and Nelle being particular friends. Had they been?
“What are her children’s names?” she asked.
>
“Madeline and Christian,” Mathew said.
“They sound like sweet children,” Nelle said. “Your sister was always kind to me.”
Her tone was so melancholy that Mathew wanted to turn her around to face him. He wanted to look into those blue eyes of hers and understand what she meant by telling him she was lost…
“Mathew,” she said, and he was all ears. “I can see the town now. I think I should walk the rest of the way.” She patted his arm that was wrapped around her. “We don’t want the townspeople to speculate.”
“What would they speculate about?” he asked. Then Mathew realized how obtuse he was being. Small towns were infamous for gossip, and Waterbury was no different. He drew his horse to a stop, climbed off, and held his hand up for Nelle to help her down.
Her eyes were in shadow again from her hat, and she barely glanced at him as she came off the horse, but her hand lingered on his. She drew it away quickly as if she’d been burned.
Mathew knew he’d been burned. He also knew that if there was one woman now, in all of New York, who was off-limits to him, it was the cousin of his near fiancée.
Chapter Eight
Nelle rubbed the side of her head, trying not to show how much pain she was in. Her head had started throbbing about the time Mathew had found her in the woods. And now, sitting across from the solicitor, who was asking one question after another, she could barely stand the pain. She was in need of refreshment but had come straight to the solicitor’s office.
“You are requesting an advance of funds on a locked trust?” the man was saying as he constantly pushed up his spectacles only to have them slide back down a moment later.
The man was also far from resembling the refined solicitor in New York City. Not that Nelle had the energy or fortitude to assess anyone for their clothing or manners. This town was completely different than what she was used to. For starters, a lady of her standing would have been offered tea upon arrival at the New York City office.
“Yes, Mr. Everett. As I stated earlier, I was told by my father’s former solicitor that I could apply for a small amount if it became necessary and that all I had to do was submit an account of what the money would be used for.”
Mr. Everett pushed up his spectacles again and peered at her with his pale blue eyes. “And, where is that accounting?”
Oh, Nelle mouthed. She reached into her handbag and brought out the short, albeit slightly crumpled, list. She’d been hasty in compiling it before she left the house since she hadn’t wanted to risk any delay.
She handed it over to Mr. Everett and found that she was holding her breath as he took his time perusing its contents. The list only contained five items: a music book, a bonnet with ribbons, a light shawl, new walking boots, and money for food at the café.
“Café? What café?” Mr. Everett asked, his forehead crinkling, which added a series of lines across his skin.
“I was sure there would be a café or restaurant in town.” Nelle thought hard, back to when she’d come to town with her cousin and done some shopping. They hadn’t eaten here, but surely there was something.
“The general store is the only place where food is sold, and it’s not premade,” Mr. Everett informed her, pushing up his spectacles once again.
“Then, I can amend that line to say the food will come from the general store.” Now she was feeling annoyed.
Mr. Everett laughed. “I don’t think your aunt would be glad to hear of that.” He used his quill to strike this item off the list. “I will send this into the city. Expect to hear back within three weeks.”
“Three weeks? But…” She didn’t know what to say. Three weeks of being completely reliant on her aunt. Three weeks of tracking everything she ate on that ledger.
But she had no choice. “Thank you,” she breathed. “Please contact me as soon as you hear anything, and I will come directly into town.”
“Very well, miss,” Mr. Everett said, standing abruptly.
Apparently, it was time for Nelle to go. She stood and thanked him again, even though she felt like either yelling at him or crying. She knew there was nothing more she could do.
As she left his office and stepped out onto the boardwalk, the bright sun momentarily blinded her. The coolness of the morning had long since faded, and the heat did no favors for her empty stomach. Walking for so long had taken more out of her than she’d expected.
But if there was no café, then she’d simply have to visit the general store and purchase fruit or something. Perhaps they sold tea as well? If they did, it would be in tea bags. She turned up the street and passed the millenary shop and the postal office. Reaching the end of the row of buildings, she stopped and peered across the street.
She saw a butcher shop, and…there was a general store. She would stand beneath the shade a moment longer, she decided, catching her breath. She felt a bit dizzy, likely due to the midday heat.
But the next thing she knew, Nelle was lying on the ground, looking up into a pair of very black eyes. She realized that an Asian woman was peering down at her, her smooth skin furrowed between her dark brows.
“How are you feeling, miss?” the woman asked, her accent rounding out her words.
Nelle blinked rapidly, trying to assess how she did feel. Her head still hurt, and her mouth felt completely dry. What had happened?
“I—I don’t know,” Nelle said. “I must have fainted.”
“Come with me,” the woman said, grasping Nelle’s hand. She helped Nelle to her feet and wrapped a thin arm around her waist. The woman’s head came only up to Nelle’s shoulder, but she was grateful for the support. The woman appeared to be, perhaps, about fifty years old, but her body was strong and upright. She led Nelle around the corner and into a small shop set back from the boardwalk.
The shop smelled of lavender and a spice Nelle couldn’t identify. After ushering her to an upholstered armchair, the woman brought in a damp cloth and placed it across Nelle’s forehead. The coolness was soothing, and Nelle exhaled with relief.
“Here, take this,” the woman said, pressing a teacup into Nelle’s hand.
The cup felt cool, so it wasn’t filled with a hot tea. Nelle took a sip, finding the liquid refreshing. She couldn’t quite place the taste, but the tea was floral in nature. As it coursed through her body, she started to feel more like herself and more aware of her surroundings.
The woman had brought her into a charming apothecary shop: Colored jars and bowls lined the tidy wood shelves. Bright silks hung from a quilting frame in one corner. One whole wall was covered with watercolor artwork. Nelle half expected the woman’s husband to come hurrying out and ask her what all the fuss was about.
But it seemed that they were alone in the quiet shop. Nelle continued to drink the delicious cool tea, feeling embarrassed at how fast she was drinking it down. When she had finished, the woman took the cup from her, then brought her a fresh cup and a plate of delicate pastries.
“You are very kind,” Nelle said. She would have turned it down, but she was too hungry. She bit into one of the pastries. It wasn’t filled with cream and jam like she'd assumed but with a spicy meat and chopped vegetables. Very tasty, but quite unusual. “This is delicious.”
The woman gave her a knowing smile and brought another plate of pastries.
“Oh, I am doing much better now,” Nelle said, waving it away. “You have helped me immensely. I don’t know why I fainted out there.”
“You are too thin,” the woman stated. “American women don’t eat enough.”
Nelle laughed, for the woman standing before her in a silk wraparound dress, was as petite as a bird.
“It’s nice to hear you laugh, miss,” the woman said. “Your eyes hold much sorrow.”
Nelle felt those emotions surfacing again.
“What is your name?” the woman asked in a gentle voice. “I have not seen you in town before.”
“Nelle Thompson,” she said, looking into the woman’s dark, calm eye
s. “I’m staying with my aunt.”
The woman held out her hand. “I’m Miss Pearl, but please call me Pearl.”
As Nelle grasped Pearl’s hand for a moment, something about her touch comforted Nelle in a way she hadn’t felt since the loss of her parents. She felt safe here, as if she were at home in the apothecary shop, which was strange to think about since she’d never been inside this shop before and she didn’t know Pearl.
“Your sorrow will heal,” Pearl said, causing Nelle to wonder how this woman could know such a thing. Perhaps this was a generic condolence used in the country Pearl came from?
“Where are you from?” Nelle couldn’t help but ask. “Have you lived in Waterbury for a while?”
A soft smile touched Pearl’s face. “I’m from Shanghai. I haven’t been in Waterbury for long. You are the first person I’ve had in my shop.”
Nelle looked about the shop, appreciating it even more now. “It’s a beautiful place. My mother—” Her voice faltered.
“What is it?” Pearl asked, her voice gentle.
“My mother would have loved this shop.” Nelle found herself telling Pearl about her parents’ accident. It seemed easy to talk to Pearl, and she listened intently, never taking her eyes from Nelle’s face.
Instead of offering apologies, Pearl said, “It is a blessing to meet you, Nelle. Fortune has smiled on me today.”
Nelle didn’t mind the odd way Pearl talked. She found it refreshing, in fact, and was grateful Pearl had helped her. “What brought you here to New York?” Nelle asked.
Pearl folded her hands in front of her. “I followed my heart.”
“You have a husband here?” Nelle guessed.
Pearl’s face pinked, making her skin glow. “I am not married,” she said. “I run this shop on my own.”
Nelle wanted to question her more, but she felt as though she’d already been too personal.
Love is Come (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 4