by Jennifer Joy
Nathan snapped, "And yet, they want nothing to do with me."
Had Mr. Gladden denied Nathan's request for Miss Gladden's hand in marriage because of his connections to trade? Michael would not have thought it possible, but there was no other explanation for Nathan's volatile mood.
Michael rubbed his chest. It ached for his friend.
"Not that I would ever befriend those who so easily turn their backs on my family when we needed their help," Nathan grumbled.
The accusation implied was an injustice Michael could not allow. "You would not have accepted their charity had it been offered. Your father did not."
"Those horrible men benefited from our debt. They did not want for fortune, and yet they took our shirts off our backs after all our other possessions were sold, leaving us to rot away in prison."
"This is unhealthy, Nathan. What is in the past is done and gone. What matters is what we do now."
Nathan stared into the fire, his eyes as hollow as his voice. "Until they suffer the consequences of their cruelty, I can have no peace."
"And how do you suppose for that to happen? Before, it was enough for you to prove yourself. To make your own fortune. And you have done it! You are one of the wealthiest men in town, and instead of taking pleasure in the fruits of your hard work, you deny others the benefit of your generous nature. What is worse, you take no pride in your accomplishments, allowing the unjust treatment of those men against your father to steal the satisfaction you have earned and ought to enjoy. Tell me their names, and I will help you see they may have already suffered for their abuses against you."
Nathan pounded his fist against the arm of the chair. "Do not speak of those men. Their names are cursed."
"Then cease to grant them power over your character. Do not allow them to poison your thoughts and control your manners."
"Like you do? How many times will you allow others to take advantage of your kindness before you tire?"
Michael refused to feel the cut Nathan tried to deliver. He was not himself today. "I do not expect you to live as I do, but you have the potential to do so much good. You could be happy. It is my greatest wish for you."
Nathan rubbed his hand over his face. "I do not deserve your friendship." Abruptly, he rose to his feet and crossed the room.
Michael followed him. "You are in no state to be alone."
"I will manage. I always do," Nathan said, closing one hand over the door latch and holding up the other like a barrier between him and Michael.
"You are a good man. I know you will overcome the burden you bear just as you have overcome every other obstacle in your life."
Nathan opened the door, turning to Michael before he crossed the threshold. "You are a better man than I am."
He closed the door behind him, and Michael stood rooted in place listening to the steps squeak under Nathan's feet until the clack of his boot heels were swallowed up by the hustle of London.
Michael looked around his room, the glow of the fire casting shadows over the stark walls. He shivered, cold consuming him.
He could not stay here. Dampening the fire and grabbing his coat, Michael turned right at the bottom of the landing and continued onward with no particular destination in mind.
Only after he had walked past his tailor's shop did he realize in which direction his feet carried him.
Chapter 7
Georgiana hunched over her writing desk, the quill in her hand hovering over the paper when she heard a coach and horses' hooves clattering against the cobblestones in front of her house. She was tempted to rush to the window but resisted the urge.
After days of anxious waiting and peeking through curtains to see nothing but an empty street, she had determined Mr. Nelson might not call after all. And why should he when he was certain to have more interesting acquaintances than she? Everything she knew came from books or from her observations of other people.
She tapped the feather against her chin, pondering how she could bring more excitement into her life without troubling the peaceful setting in which her brother had surrounded himself. His tranquility had been hard earned, and Georgiana would hate herself forever if she ruined it. But she craved something she could not properly define. Something different. Some variance in her routine.
Her discontent grew every day no matter how hard she suppressed it. With William, Elizabeth, and the children, she was blessed with love and acceptance … which made it all the more difficult for Georgiana to admit it was no longer enough. Was it selfish for her to wish for someone — or something — of her own? An accomplishment entirely her own? An adventure she could partake in rather than observe from afar?
She longed to be needed; to be vital to the existence of another just as Elizabeth was to William. It was a lot to wish for, but it did not prevent Georgiana from wanting it all the same.
Lydia burst through the door, shouting, "He is here!"
Georgiana's heart leapt into her throat. "Really, Lydia, can you not enter a room like a normal person?"
"He is here, and you want me to knock?" Lydia rolled her eyes, and Chloe snorted in agreement.
Pressing her hand against her chest and taking a deep breath, Georgiana asked, "Who is here?"
Another eye roll. "Napoleon Bonaparte. Who do you think?"
Lydia did not pause long enough for Georgiana to retort. She continued, "Mr. Nelson has finally called. I peeked at him from the top of the stairs, and I must say he is very tall and quite handsome."
The housekeeper appeared then, informing Georgiana that Mr. Nelson was in the yellow parlor with Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Darcy should she wish to join them.
Georgiana cooled her burning cheeks with her fingers before she remembered they were covered in indigo ink. She nearly stumbled into the washstand in her haste to scrub her smudged fingers and face.
Lydia huffed in frustration. "It is not your hands he will be looking at," she said, pinching Georgiana's cheeks until they throbbed and pulling random curls loose at her temples. "Bite your lips. Not only does it heighten their color, but it makes them larger and more appealing."
Georgiana wondered if Lydia had read that in a fashion magazine or heard it from her mother.
"You would have me look like Tanner did after his fight." Georgiana swatted Lydia's hands away. Already, she felt her cheeks tighten and swell.
"If it gets a gentleman's attention, a little pain is worth your efforts," Lydia said callously.
Which sounded distinctly like one of Mrs. Bennet's pearls of wisdom. While Georgiana did not agree with most of the matron's surviving advice on beauty and marriage, Georgiana would not deny Lydia the pleasure of her memories. She only regretted she had none of her own with which to remember her mother.
When Georgiana could not endure any more of Lydia's fussing and pinching, and before her well-meaning friend could pull all of her hair out of its pins, Georgiana slipped out of her room and down the steps. She was as eager to see Mr. Nelson as she was to escape Lydia's appearance-enhancing attentions.
Pausing at the bottom of the steps, Georgiana took another deep breath and steadied herself. She waited for Lydia to catch up with her, careful to maintain a safe distance lest she attempt to pinch Georgiana again.
Together, they walked through the door to the cheerful yellow parlor.
Mr. Nelson rose as soon as he saw them, bowing elegantly with a smile that matched the sheen of the gold silk brightened by the afternoon sun. Georgiana knew from the choice of room Elizabeth had been the one to suggest it. Not even William was impervious to the yellow parlor's charm, though it was plain he intended to resist it to the best of his ability. He openly glared at Mr. Nelson while he pressed Ben down on the couch beside him.
Elizabeth rang for tea, clasping Rose's little fingers around the bell so she could help, saying, "I hope you will stay long enough to join us, Mr. Nelson. Cook must have had a premonition you would come today. She made her famous sponge cake."
From her seat across from Ben, G
eorgiana saw the boy's eyes widen. He clamped his lips shut and avoided meeting his mother's eyes.
Elizabeth noticed. "If there is anything left of it, that is," she said with the withering glare women were granted on the day of their first child's birth. The fierceness of her displeasure was not lost on Ben, who sat as still as a marble statue beside his father.
Mr. Nelson replied, humor dancing in his hazel eyes, "I cannot stay long, but I wished to allay your fears about Miss Morton's welfare."
Elizabeth jabbed William in the arm under the guise of accommodating Rose better in her arms.
Through gritted teeth, William said, "We would be delighted if you will join us."
How it must have pained him to utter those words. Georgiana smiled at her brother, appreciating his attempt to be polite when he did not wish to be.
If Mr. Nelson heard the tension in William's tone, he pretended not to. At Elizabeth's encouragement, he launched into an exciting account of his journey north in pursuit of Miss Morton and her alleged kidnapper. That his travels led him to Gretna Green was telling … and unsurprising.
Georgiana imagined him in court, arousing a jury's compassion with his persuasive speech. Mr. Nelson was a powerful speaker. Even Lydia, whose attention was difficult to capture for more than five minutes at a time, sat on the edge of her seat, hanging on Mr. Nelson's every word.
William's growing interest contended with his tenacious sternness.
Elizabeth's hand often covered her mouth to stifle her gasps.
As for Georgiana, her whole body tingled in suspense. Listening to Mr. Nelson was better than reading a gripping novel — the kind that had her chewing her lips and holding her breath as she read.
Young Ben, whose attention could not last the duration of Mr. Nelson's story, no matter how riveting it was, escaped from William's grasp. Leaning against Mr. Nelson's leg, he tapped the gentleman on the shoulder politely.
Mr. Nelson did not try Ben's patience by making him wait. Addressing the boy with all the dignity of a peer, he said, "I have got carried away, have I? I apologize, young man. Is there something you wish to add to the conversation? I should like to hear it very much."
Ben beamed before his face went serious again. "Are you the toad with whom Auntie Lydia danced?"
Elizabeth gasped, "Bennet Beauregard!"
Lydia giggled uncontrollably.
Georgiana bit her lips together, covering her smile with her hand.
Mr. Nelson peered into the child's earnest eyes, which were now a little uncertain after his mother's chastisement. Reflecting Ben's grave expression, Mr. Nelson took a deep breath … and uttered a throaty croak.
Georgiana clapped, and Ben climbed onto Mr. Nelson's lap (whether he was wanted there or not).
It was the perfect answer. Laughter bounced off the merry walls, and when Rose joined in the fun, they laughed all the more.
Watching William snicker made Georgiana wonder if he would continue to dislike Mr. Nelson on principal (as any protective older brother worth his salt ought to). Time would tell, or so Georgiana hoped. She did not want this to be the last of Mr. Nelson's calls.
When the noise abated, Mr. Nelson asked Ben, "Do I look like a toad to you?"
It was a bold question to ask an honest child.
Ben considered the question for some time, Mr. Nelson's smile widening the longer the boy pondered.
Had he asked Georgiana, she might have been brave enough to say he looked like a roguish pirate, his sandy hair brightened by the sun and saltwater of the ocean. She imagined his strong arms pulling him up the rigging with ease, the breeze filling the sails and plastering his rolled-up shirtsleeves against his muscled shoulders.
Fortunately, Ben replied before Georgiana got too carried away. What would she think of next? A dagger between his teeth?
Firmly, Ben said, "No. I think you are nice."
Evidently toads were not known to be amiable. Georgiana felt the need to explain her nephew's comment. "Ben has heard a lot of talk about balls of late. I am afraid only certain words caught his attention enough to remember."
"And repeat at the most inopportune moment," added Elizabeth with a forgiving grin.
Mr. Nelson chuckled, asking the women in the room, "It is not often I am able to learn of social events from a female's perspective. If you would be so kind as to indulge my curiosity, I would like to hear more. Do you often refer to your dance partners as toads?"
Considering he had been Georgiana's only dance partner thus far in the season, she could not resist teasing. "Never aloud."
Lydia snorted. "Give me a toad with a title, and I will dance with him!"
Elizabeth cleared her throat, attempting to look sternly at her sister. "You really must be more careful what you say around Ben. We all know from whom he heard about toads."
Ben clambered down from Mr. Nelson's lap, hopping like a frog and making croaking noises to provoke giggles from Rose.
It was too much for William. Georgiana was amazed he had lasted this long. Her ever proper brother said, "I apologize for our informal manners, Mr. Nelson. We enjoy the presence of our children, but we are aware most of our callers prefer not to keep company with ones so young."
The few who criticized her brother and Elizabeth for their breach in decorum by including their children in their lives as they were wont to do did not understand the difficulty with which said children had arrived into this world. Now that William and Elizabeth finally had the son and daughter they feared they would never have, they would not be presumed upon to part with their company no matter who disapproved. Georgiana admired them for putting their family before the expectations of society. She paid close attention to Mr. Nelson's reaction.
He shook his head. "On the contrary, Mr. Darcy. I find it refreshing. It is not often I am able to enjoy the company of children. Too much reserved energy goes to waste in the nursery when their antics are better enjoyed by all; their honest observations and inquiries enliven any conversation."
With a straight face, William asked, "Even when the subject turns to toads?"
Mr. Nelson responded in kind. "Especially then."
Georgiana was convinced her brother liked Mr. Nelson despite his earlier bravado. The gentleman was easy to admire. Ben, too, showed his approval of their caller by crawling onto his lap once again and grinning up at him.
Not to be outdone, Chloe made her way over to Mr. Nelson, wagging her tail frantically and poking his leg with her nose.
He welcomed the attention, scratching Chloe behind the ears with one hand while hanging on to Ben with the other.
All too soon, the teapot was empty and the cake (which had arrived with one notably sized chunk missing) was gone. Mr. Nelson's visit had come to an end.
Surely, Georgiana was not the only one who wished he could stay longer.
Chapter 8
No sooner had the door closed behind Mr. Nelson than Elizabeth and Lydia turned to Georgiana.
"He is a dream! Does he have an older, richer brother with a title?" Lydia asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. "Is that all you think about?"
"It is either marriage or fripperies, Lizzy. You know that."
Oh, Lydia, thought Georgiana. Lydia's candor suggested a smidgen of wisdom she would be the first to tell you she did not possess. She did not fool Georgiana. Lydia was too good at getting what she wanted, and even though she was still unmarried, Georgiana was confident in her friend's ability to marry a gentleman with all the traits she required.
"You have not yet answered my question. Does he have a brother?" Lydia repeated.
"He does have a brother, but that is all I know," Georgiana said. She knew little about Mr. Nelson, to be sure, but her curiosity needled her to want to know more.
Elizabeth said, "He seemed to enjoy the attention of Ben, and he was not disturbed at all with our informal setting. In fact, I believe he rather enjoyed it."
Georgiana nodded. "He is interesting company."
; Elizabeth chewed on her lip, deep in thought. Georgiana observed the wheels of her mind turning as quickly as the works of a clock.
Raising her finger, Elizabeth said, "You need more opportunities to converse."
William, who had fallen silent since Mr. Nelson's departure, said to her, "And you need to not interfere."
Elizabeth shot him such a look as to silence a lesser man. "Your manners were so stiff during most of the conversation, I wonder if Mr. Nelson will ever attempt to call again! He could easily believe you disapprove of him."
William did not back down. "If I disapproved of Mr. Nelson, I would give him no reason to doubt it."
"You can look as surly as you want, but I can tell you like him. Admit it!" Elizabeth challenged.
"He is how I remember him to be." William would not admit to anything, but he knew Elizabeth was his match in tenacity.
She knew it too, which was all the motivation she needed to stand her ground. "Is that why you were doing your best to scare him away?" Elizabeth asked.
William tensed, his patience waning. "Any man who struggles to win the heart of his lady treasures her all the more for the effort he took to win her affection."
"Must you take it upon yourself to be the source of his struggle?"
"Must you deliberately mistake my meaning? She is my little sister. Do you expect me to want anything less than the best for her? Would you make it easy for him so he would take her for granted when he should cherish her as I do you?"
Georgiana's heart bubbled over with love for her brother who was more of a father than George Darcy had ever tried to be. She would be cautious not to lose her heart so easily as she had with Wickham. She could not betray William's trust like that again.
Baby Rose cooed at her daddy, reaching for him with her plump arms and little fingers. Gently, he took her from Elizabeth, and Rose placed her fat hands on his cheeks with a happy giggle.