by Bree Wolf
Still at odds, Nathanial gulped down the contents, then coughed. “You don’t truly intend to stay, do you?”
For a long moment, the other man regarded him. “Have you forgotten that you’re not yourself tonight? Although Nathanial Caswell might object to this kind of amusement, the man you are tonight does not.”
Exhaling a gust of air, Nathanial allowed his gaze to wander. “I wouldn’t know how to…” He couldn’t even finish the thought.
“Go and dance,” Lord Markham remarked, gesturing toward a group of women, who stood near the dance floor, chatting and laughing. “No matter what happens tonight, no one will ever know it was you.” He moved a little closer to be heard above the hum of the music as the orchestra began to play another hauntingly beautiful tune. “While others might be unmasked by their voices alone, you do not run that risk. We’re not in Boston. No one knows you here. Drop your accent and no one will know you.”
Nathanial sighed, not certain if his companion’s words should be understood as a promise or a threat. Indeed, no one knew him here. He was alone among strangers and, to a man like Nathanial, who had always cherished the comfort of family and friends, this was a most disconcerting thought. “What should I say to them?”
Beside him, Lord Markham chuckled, however, it was a companionable sound. “It does not matter.”
Gritting his teeth, Nathanial felt as though facing a horde of barbarians as he began to make his way across the room toward the group of ladies. His ears began to ring from the noise, and his palms started to sweat as his heart beat faster and faster.
One of the ladies noticed his approach and turned to him with a smiling face. She was dressed in a dark blue gown, her blond hair curled upward and a glittering mask fitted to her face.
Nathanial wanted to turn and run for he could only too easily imagine Abigail under that mask. Would he never escape the memory of her?
Still, his feet carried him onward and, for once, he decided not to argue, determined to heed Lord Markham’s advice. “Good evening,” he greeted her with a formal bow, uncertain what else to add. After all, inquiring after her name as well as other identity-revealing details was out of the question. What did one speak about to a stranger?
The lady in blue smiled at him. “Aren’t you a dear?” she remarked, a slight slur in her voice. Then she moved closer, and her hands danced like feathers across his chest. “Would you fetch me a drink?” Judging from the smell of liquor on her breath, she had already had a few.
Perhaps even a few too many for she suddenly began to sway on her feet, her hands closing around his lapels as she fought to remain upright.
Indeed, this had been a marvelous idea!
“Pardon me.” Nathanial turned to one of the other ladies nearby. “I’m afraid your friend seems to require your assistance.”
“Nonsense!” the lady in blue objected as another one in a silvery gown reached for her hand. “I’m perfectly fine. See?” All but pushing herself away from Nathanial, she staggered one step, then another, before sinking into the arms of the woman in the silvery gown, giggling endlessly as her legs collapsed under her.
This evening seemed to be getting better and better!
“I need to dance,” the lady in blue suddenly exclaimed, and her gaze settled back on Nathanial, a bit of a predatory gleam in her shrouded eyes. Then she straightened and came staggering toward him.
Nathanial’s mind was desperately searching for a way out of this predicament when a melodious voice suddenly spoke out from behind him, “Would you care to accompany me out onto the terrace?”
“Of course.” The words flew from his lips before he had even turned around. After all, it didn’t matter. Nothing and no one could be worse than trying to keep an inebriated woman on her feet as she clung to him like a sack of potatoes.
Nathanial would have been grateful no matter what sight had awaited him. Still, when his gaze fell on the glowing vision who had just saved him from a most dreadful and mortifying situation, Nathanial could not help but feel something more than gratitude.
Dressed in a golden gown, the lady stood before him, her dark hair dancing down over her shoulders in thick, luxurious waves. “The air is quite stuffy in here, is it not?” she asked with a glance over his shoulder that made him think she knew very well what danger he was facing.
Nathanial nodded, then offered her his arm. “It is, indeed.”
Granting him a gentle smile, the lady in gold slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and then turned to gesture toward the large French doors only a few paces away. “Shall I lead the way?”
“Very well,” Nathanial replied, relieved to detect no sign of inebriation in her speech nor balance.
Together, they made their way through the dancers until they finally pushed open the doors leading onto the terrace. The slightly chilled night air hit them like a wave crashing upon a cliff, and Nathanial briefly rocked back on his heels. Still, it was utterly refreshing and he glanced at his companion as she drew in a deep breath, her eyes closed as though she were savoring the moment. “Thank you,” he couldn’t help but say, aware that his evening could have taken an altogether different turn.
“You’re welcome.” Casting him another warm smile, she then strode across the granite terrace, her arms spread wide as she tilted back her head. “This feels wonderful, does it not?”
The sky overhead was a deep midnight black, here and there dotted with small diamonds that sparkled in the soft, silvery glow of an almost full moon. A gentle breeze brushed over Nathanial’s heated skin as he followed her away from the deafening sounds of the ball at their backs. The scent of jasmines, fresh and alluring, lingered on the air, and hulking shadows loomed nearby, giving Nathanial a vague idea of Lord Witherton’s gardens.
With each step, the music and insistent voices lessened, and Nathanial’s attention was drawn to the glowing lady as she twirled in a circle, her arms still spread and laughter spilling from her lips. There was something utterly free and untamed about the way she experienced the moment, and Nathanial could not help but envy her.
What was her secret?
“I always did this when I was a child,” she laughed, twirling faster, her eyes touching upon his at each turn. “Come and join me. You’ll love it.”
“I’d rather not,” Nathanial replied, forcing his gaze away from her as he strode over to the balustrade, looking out at the night sky.
“Why?” she demanded, suddenly standing beside him.
Her eyes seemed like two black pools as Nathanial looked down at her. He shrugged. “It’s childish.”
“And?”
He shrugged again. “And we’re not children anymore.”
“And?”
He frowned, turning to face her. “Did your parents or governess not teach you proper manners?” he asked, surprised by her reply. After all he had heard, he had expected English ladies to behave in a more respectable manner.
The lady laughed. “My father always said, Charlie, there is a time for proper behavior and a time for silliness,” she lifted a chiding finger and feigned a serious tone, “but take care not to get the two mixed up.”
Nathanial didn’t know if he ought to believe her. “He truly said that?”
Nodding, she placed a hand over her heart. “I swear on his grave.” The smile upon her face dimmed as though her words only now caught up with her.
Nathanial swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
Drawing in a shuddering breath, she turned back to look at the gardens. “It happened a long time ago.” She glanced up at him. “But sometimes it still hurts.”
Her honesty surprised Nathanial as much as her willingness to show him such a vulnerable side of her. Perhaps it was the mask. Perhaps she felt safe with it on. “My father passed away as well.” For a reason he could not name, Nathanial wanted to restore the balance between them, to offer something in return for what she had shared with him.
Her dark eyes found his. “Were you close?”
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Nathanial nodded. “Aside from my brother, he was…my best friend. He knew me like no other.” Where had these words come from? Nathanial couldn’t say.
“But you still have your brother,” she observed, a small smile coming to her lips as she looked up at him. “You have each other.”
Nathanial nodded. Only now, Zach had Becca. It was no longer the same.
“What is it?” the lady asked, her eyes watchful as they swept over his face.
Nathanial shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
She stepped closer, and her hand brushed over his arm. “Tell me.”
Closing his eyes, Nathanial exhaled a sharp breath. Perhaps he could say this to a stranger. “He’s gotten married, and…and I’m an awful person for…for…”
“Feeling regret?” she offered, empathy in her gaze when he opened his eyes once more.
Something in Nathanial’s chest constricted, but he nodded. “She is wonderful, and they’re happy together. I’ve…I’ve never seen him like this.” Shaking his head, he threw his hands up in the air. “But I…”
“You miss him,” she replied as though it were the most natural thing in the world, as though the way he felt did not make him a most despicable brother. “You miss him, and there is nothing wrong with that. We all want to be happy, but sometimes it’s hard. I do believe your brother would feel the same if your situations were reversed.”
Nathanial wanted to believe her. “You don’t even know him.”
The lady shrugged. “He’s your brother, and he loves you. What else is there to know?”
Staring at her, Nathanial felt a rather unfamiliar chuckle make its way up his throat and then past his lips. “You’re an unusual woman,” he observed without thought. However, tonight he was not supposed to be himself, was he?
The smile upon her face deepened, warming the chilled air around them. “Will you twirl with me then?” she asked, a daring tone in her voice. “For only a moment.”
Out of habit, Nathanial shook his head, his feet retreating backward. “I shouldn’t. I…”
“This is not about what you should or shouldn’t do,” she told him, holding out her hands to him. “This is about feeling alive.” She shrugged. “If only for tonight.”
Nathanial’s heart almost beat out of his chest as he contemplated her offer, her words, the temptation she presented. There was something utterly comforting about her as though he had known her his whole life, as though she were his closest confidante, as though he could trust her like no other.
As though she were his friend.
“Very well,” he said, surprising himself. Then he stepped toward her, holding out his hands.
Still, it was the lady who closed the last remaining distance between them and slipped her hands into his, holding on tightly. Her dark eyes met his, and a luminous smile appeared on her face moments before her feet began to move.
Nathanial had no choice but to follow.
And it did feel every bit as wonderful as it had looked.
Chapter Twelve
Between Strangers
Nathanial’s skin felt warm against her own as Charlaine held his hands and her feet began to move. His blue eyes remained on hers, and she could see the corners of his mouth fight to rise into a smile. It was obviously quite unfamiliar to him. No doubt, it felt foreign, and yet, she could see that a part of him longed for the ease and warmth and kindness of a simple smile.
A true smile.
A smile not born out of duty.
But one created in the moment.
Faster and faster, they twirled, their eyes locked, the world whizzing past them as the soft music from inside the ballroom drifted to their ears. “Don’t let go!” she called to him, and his hands tightened on hers instantly, a reassurance that he would keep her safe.
Nathanial Caswell was that kind of man, was he not? Someone who looked out for those he cared for. Someone who put their well-being above his own. Someone who was honest and true and kind.
Someone who had been hurt because of it.
Someone who now feared it would happen again.
When Charlaine had glimpsed him from across the room as he had approached the lady in blue, she had felt her heart crumble at the forlorn look upon his face. He had seemed so lost. He still did, but at least now he was smiling.
“Aren’t you afraid we’ll fall?” Nathanial called to her as they spun in ever faster circles.
Charlaine laughed. “This joy will be worth a bruise or two.”
A chuckle rumbled in his throat. “What will people think if they see us?” He glanced at the French doors…and his footing shifted, throwing her balance off as well.
Charlaine felt her left hand slip from his as her feet tried to even out the sudden shift in position. Nathanial’s eyes widened and, instantly, snapped back to her. His other hand gripped hers more tightly, and she could feel his arm flex as he tugged her toward him. Their feet slowed as they swayed across the terrace, and then Charlaine all but fell against him. His arm came around her, holding her to him, keeping her from falling as he braced himself on the balustrade with the other.
Looking up, Charlaine stared into his eyes. They were both breathing fast, the pulse in his neck hammering at the same speed as her own. Still, he quickly matched her smile, something irresistibly tempting lingering in his blue gaze. “You must be mad,” he whispered then, but it sounded for all intents and purposes like a compliment. “Utterly and truly mad.”
“You’re smiling,” Charlaine observed with a smirk.
Nathanial laughed. “I suppose I am.” Still staring at her, he shook his head. “I came here tonight to…” His mouth opened and closed, a loss for words only too visible in his eyes. “I never thought I could…”
“You felt something,” Charlaine whispered, all too aware that he was still holding her in his arms. But was he?
Nathanial nodded. “Yes, I felt something. Perhaps that was why I came, to feel something different, to be someone different…if only for one night.”
“A reprieve?”
“A reprieve,” he echoed, and the pressure of his arm around her lessened. His hand slid to her back, but did not fall away.
“Who would you want to be?” Charlaine dared him, noting the way he tried his best to suppress his American accent. Every once in a while, it slipped in, but with the music echoing around them, even out here on the terrace, it was barely noticeable. Her own English accent was almost perfect as it should be for Peter had taught her ever since she had been a little girl. She knew how to speak like the ton, but she preferred not to.
Tonight, however, was different.
“If you could be anyone,” Charlaine asked, tipping up her chin, “who would you want to be?”
Nathanial laughed. “I don’t know. Perhaps someone who doesn’t feel the constant need to think things through. Someone who acts on impulse alone. Someone who,” he drew in a slow breath, “seizes the moment.”
His gaze lingered on hers, and Charlaine could not help but notice the way he was looking at her. She felt his hand lying on her back, warm and restrained. Still, there was something…something that whispered of a longing he no doubt had not felt in a long while.
To connect with another.
To give something of himself and receive something in return.
To leave behind the bitterness that clung to every word.
Charlaine knew those feelings. She had left her home and come to England for those very reasons. To focus on the good instead of the bad. To acknowledge the tears, but strive for smiles above all else. To live again and be happy once more. “And will you?” she asked, still standing in his embrace as though she belonged there. “Seize the moment?”
Nathanial exhaled a slow breath as temptation and restraint warred within his gaze. “The truth is that we cannot escape who we are. No amount of wishful thinking can—”
Never one to think things through too thoroughly, Charlaine pulled him down into a kiss befor
e he could convince himself that the risk was too great. Ever since he had caught her in his arms after their stumble had she wondered what his kiss would feel like.
Now, she knew.
And she had been right to seize the moment.
For although Nathanial did tense in surprise at the feel of her lips against his own, the longing she had seen in his eyes soon pushed all restraint away. His hands tightened on her, pulling her closer, as he returned her kiss in a heartbreakingly gentle way. There was something utterly sweet in the way he held her, the way his knuckles brushed over her cheek before his hand slipped into her hair.
For a moment, Charlaine feared the pins holding her mask in place would suffer. However, Nathanial’s caresses felt like the delicate touch of a feather. She could feel his caring heart in every touch and knew that, somehow, she had reached him tonight. Here and now, he cared for her, for Nathanial Caswell was not the kind of man who would return a woman’s kiss without feeling something. They had shared a precious moment, and it had been exactly what he had needed.
In truth, Charlaine had needed it as well.
Lifting his head, Nathanial looked down at her, a hint of contrition in his eyes. “I…I shouldn’t have done this.”
Charlaine smiled at him. “You didn’t. I did.” She searched his face. “Do you regret it?”
Slowly, he shook his head. His hands finally released her and he took a step back. “I cannot say that I do.” His gaze lingered on hers. “Why did you…?”
Leaning back against the balustrade, Charlaine smiled. “Because I wanted to. Because it felt as though you wanted to as well. Was I wrong?”
Running a hand through his hair, Nathanial turned away, trying to hide the grin that stole onto his face. “We hardly know each other.” He chuckled. “In fact, we don’t know each other at all.”
“Then tell me something about yourself,” Charlaine dared him. “Is your brother like you?”
Looking back at her, Nathanial paused, his blue eyes calculating as he no doubt considered how much to share with a stranger, his mind never allowing his tongue free rein. “We’re like day and night,” he finally said. “He is daring and bold, charming and easily makes friends wherever he goes. He never worries and…” A heavy sigh left his lips.