Always

by Cheryl Holt

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did!”

  She was allowing herself to be drawn into his life again, wishing she could dawdle for hours, listening to him merrily gossip, but it was madness to loiter, madness to chat.

  She smiled tepidly. It was all she could muster. “I don’t suppose your aunt is too keen about any of it.”

  “No, she’s in a furious temper, but I’m ignoring her.”

  He laughed again, as if the tragedy was all a big joke, then their conversation dwindled, and he studied her intently. She couldn’t abide his ardent assessment, and suddenly, she was on the verge of weeping. He stepped in, as if he was determined to take her hand, and she was positive—if he touched her—she would shatter into a thousand pieces.

  “You should visit us at Selby,” he stunned her by saying.

  “Visit…Selby?”

  “Yes, Susan would love to see you. She writes you letters constantly. Have you received any of them?”

  “No. I’m relieved to hear she’s been writing. I’ve been worried about her.”

  “Come to Selby! She’d be ecstatic.”

  He hadn’t mentioned that he would like her to come, that he would be ecstatic. Did he remember the night they’d spent together? Did he grasp the calamity he’d put in motion for her? Did he care?

  “I can’t,” she said, “but tell Susan hello for me. I miss her very much.”

  “I will tell her.” He paused, looking uncertain, then he claimed, “I hate how matters between us concluded that last day.”

  “What last day?” She pretended to be confused, though she knew exactly to what he referred.

  “I stopped by your bedchamber to talk to you, but Mrs. Middleton arrived, and you had to leave for London immediately. It all wrapped up so quickly. We didn’t end things in a good place.”

  “Yes, well, it was probably beneficial to have an abrupt parting.” Her demeanor was casual and blasé, as if none of it had affected her in the slightest. “I wouldn’t have liked to drag it out, so it was best that I went home without delay.”

  He scrutinized her, and she held herself very still, anxious that he not note a hint of the agony that was building inside her. She had to return to her cab. She had to climb in and pull the door shut before she collapsed.

  “How are you getting on with Mrs. Middleton?” he inquired. “I’ve been afraid I might have caused some trouble for you with her. Was she very angry?”

  “Mrs. Middleton? Heavens, no. She’s always been like a mother to me.”

  He evaluated the lie and swallowed it. It was obvious he yearned to have a deeper discussion where they would delve into topics she had no desire to pursue.

  She wanted to ask him how he could have hurt her so dreadfully. She wanted to rail and shout and pry for details about his fiancée. She wanted to ask when his wedding was to be, how he could have misbehaved so egregiously with Nell when he was betrothed to another.

  She wanted to grab the lapels of his coat and shake him. She wanted to fall to her knees and sob for a week. She wanted to beg him to be a different man than the one he was, the kind she’d assumed him to be, the kind who would have loved her.

  “Ah…I have to go,” she said. “If I’m late, Mrs. Middleton frets. Be sure to tell Susan hello for me.”

  “I will.”

  “Goodbye.”

  She spun away and dashed off so rapidly that she was practically running.

  “Nell!” he called.

  Don’t turn around! Don’t turn around!

  She couldn’t help it. She halted and glanced over her shoulder.

  “It was terrific to see you.” He appeared to mean it.

  “Yes, it was grand to see you too.”

  “My invitation stands. I’ll always hope you visit Selby someday.”

  She stared forever, her heart breaking all over again. “I won’t ever visit.”

  He sighed with what had to be regret. What had he been thinking? That she’d come to Selby, and they’d sneak off to his cottage in the woods? That they’d rekindle their affair and no one would notice? Did he view her as being that loose and out of control?

  Well, yes, he likely did view her that way. During her sojourn in his home, she’d proved herself to be debauched and unrestrained.

  “Could I write to you occasionally or…or…” Words failed him, and his sentence trailed off.

  “Why would you write?” she couldn’t keep herself from asking, and her exasperation was clear. “What could we possibly have to say to each other?”

  “This doesn’t seem finished to me. It seems as if we have more to talk about.”

  “We really don’t, Lord Selby.”

  He looked as if she’d slapped him, and his shoulders slumped with defeat. “Don’t call me Selby. We’re closer than that, aren’t we?”

  “Many things have changed for me, so it’s not appropriate for us to be cordial.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you?” She frowned, feigning nonchalance. “I’m getting married.”

  He blanched with astonishment. “You’re what?”

  “I’m getting married.”

  “To who?”

  “To a business associate of Mr. Middleton’s.”

  “It’s rather sudden,” he said.

  “Yes, it was sudden, but Mr. Middleton offered me the chance to wed, and it was a miracle I never expected to occur. I couldn’t pass it up, so it means my friendship with you has to alter significantly.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “Goodbye,” she repeated.

  She whirled away and hurried to the cab. The driver was in the box, and he’d been observing as she’d chatted with Lord Selby. She raced up to the vehicle and frantically murmured, “Please take me away from here as fast as you can.”

  She hefted herself in and slammed the door. He obliged her by cracking his whip, and the horse rushed off at such a brisk trot that it nearly threw her off the seat.

  They flitted by the spot where Lord Selby was still in front of the orphanage, but if he was watching her depart, she had no idea. She shut her eyes so she would never have that final glimpse of him.

  * * * *

  Nathan staggered over and braced himself against a wall.

  Nell was getting married? To another man?

  The news was so distressing that he could barely remain on his feet. It sounded wrong and awful and bizarre.

  When she’d initially left Selby, he’d told himself it was the sole viable conclusion. An extended flirtation would have been deranged. He’d assumed—erroneously—that after a few weeks, he’d forget about her and be relieved she was gone.

  Yet it hadn’t happened like that. He’d missed her more, not less. By the time he’d had the opportunity to travel to London, he’d arrived at a decision about Nell that he figured would stun the whole kingdom—but especially her.

  He’d realized he didn’t want to carry on at Selby without her, and he was desperately anxious for her to come back. Since he would no longer trek to Africa, he would be staying in England and building a life at the estate, but the place simply wasn’t the same without her there.

  He’d needed her to join him, but there was only one way it could transpire. He’d have to break down and propose marriage.

  It was an insane notion, both because he was touched in the head and would be a horrid husband, but also because a man of his station didn’t shackle himself to a girl of hers. Generations of people had figured out that two such disparate individuals could never connect in a satisfactory manner.

  Everyone knew it, so if he’d proceeded, it would have been an extraordinary step that would have stirrred unrelenting gossip, but he didn’t care about gossip or other people’s opinions. He cared about her and how she made him happy. The fleeting days he’d spent with her at Selby had been the best ever, and he was thirty. It wouldn’t kill him to become a husband.

  He’d settled on the perfect scheme: Once
he’d wrapped up his business at the orphanage, he’d planned to call on Nell at the Middletons’ London home. He’d suspected Mrs. Middleton wouldn’t like it, but he was going to do it anyway.

  If Nell had been the least bit delighted to see him again, he’d intended to kidnap her right out of Mrs. Middleton’s parlor. He’d have tossed her on a horse and taken her to Selby where they could obtain a Special License and wed immediately.

  He’d been that determined to have her for his own.

  But…she was marrying someone else?

  While he’d been fretting and missing her, had she pondered him a single time?

  Apparently not. She’d dallied with him, had formed a potent bond, then she’d rushed to town and gotten engaged.

  What was he to think about such a peculiar turn of events? He had thought they’d shared an amazing, unique relationship that might let them fall madly in love and remain madly in love forever. What had she thought?

  Evidently, he hadn’t had much of an effect on her. Having just stumbled on her—quite by accident—on a public street, she’d treated him as if she barely remembered who he was.

  Well…to hell with her!

  Hadn’t he always known that bonds were pointless? Hadn’t he always known it was futile to attach himself? Nothing had ever occurred to change that view, so why had he anticipated a different result with her?

  He was a solitary man who slid through the world in a quiet, isolated fashion. He liked being alone. He liked being on his own, and he had chores back at Selby.

  He went to his horse, jumped on, and rode away, and he traveled in the opposite direction from Miss Drummond so they wouldn’t have to cross paths—by accident—ever again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “What did you learn in town?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  Susan studied Nathan, thinking he looked awful, as if he’d suffered a hard blow.

  “There was no news at the orphanage?” she asked.

  “It was shuttered, the place abandoned.”

  “Oh, no. Did you speak to any of the neighbors to find out what happened?”

  “No. I just jumped on my horse and came home. I didn’t talk to anybody.”

  “I know the woman who ran it. Miss Robertson? I hope she’s all right. What about the children who were living there with her?”

  He shrugged. “There was no sign of them.”

  “I’ll have to tell Nell about this in my next letter. She was friendly with Miss Robertson. She’ll be upset.”

  Susan wrote to her mother once a week and to Nell every day. So far, she hadn’t received a reply from either of them. She hadn’t expected one from her mother—Florence was slow to forgive a transgression—but Nell was never angry with Susan for any reason.

  Susan assumed Florence wouldn’t let Nell respond. Yet sooner or later, Nell would simply sneak off and mail a letter behind Florence’s back. Or she might book a seat on a public coach and show up at Selby unannounced. Susan constantly watched for her.

  “You shouldn’t keep writing to Nell,” he said.

  “Why not? She can’t avoid me forever.”

  “Have you wondered why she hasn’t answered you?”

  “I’m sure my mother won’t allow it, but she’ll get sick of that nonsense. She’ll figure out how to contact me without my mother discovering her perfidy.”

  Susan chuckled, and he flashed a wan smile.

  They were in the front parlor at Selby. It was almost time for tea, and they were waiting for it to be delivered. Trevor was out meeting with a tenant, and he’d be back shortly. In the interim, she had Nathan all to herself, which she enjoyed.

  She’d grown up reading stories about him in the newspapers. His exploits made him seem like a character in an adventure novel, but the reality was much different than she’d imagined.

  He was a quiet fellow, who didn’t feel the need to fill the room with chatter. He was observant and vigilant too, always scanning his surroundings, as if worried about an attack. His heightened alert had her curious as to what his travels had truly been like.

  Obviously, they’d been dangerous. On the last one, Sir Sidney had been murdered. Nathan never discussed it, but how could he bear to keep it all inside?

  When she’d eloped with Trevor, she hadn’t considered the consequences. She’d been furious with her mother and hadn’t paused to ponder the future. And she hadn’t had to ponder it much—because of Nathan Blake.

  He’d arrived in Gretna Green and had fixed everything that might have gone wrong. He’d welcomed them at Selby, had given them important positions where they’d be busy and happy.

  She’d been raised to manage a grand house, her childhood a series of tutoring and lessons that would provide the skills required to be the wife of a prominent man. She would employ those skills on behalf of Nathan Blake, and she’d merrily do it.

  She would hope to reconcile with her parents someday, but with how determined they’d been to wed her to Percy, she was riveted by one pertinent question: Had they known Percy was married to Miss Pomeroy?

  Had her father’s investigation revealed the information, but they’d discounted it? Had they been so obsessed with Susan binding herself to the aristocratic Blake family that they’d been willing to ignore even bigamy?

  It boggled the mind, and in her view, they had some massive apologies to tender before a cordial relationship could be pursued.

  Nell was the one she still fussed over. She had to bring Nell to Selby. It had always been their plan, and with Susan ensconced in the manor, she was eager for Nell to join her.

  Perhaps she should trek to town, accost Nell when Florence wasn’t paying attention, and invite her. Whatever was transpiring in her parents’ home, it was clear Nell was being prevented from communicating with Susan. Had she any idea that Susan was reaching out?

  “I saw her,” Nathan suddenly murmured.

  He was over by the window, staring out at the park, watching the afternoon wane. He was sipping a brandy, lost in thought and looking like the loneliest man in the world.

  “You saw who?” Susan asked.

  “Nell. When I was in London, I talked to her.”

  “You rat! Why didn’t you tell me? You’re aware of how I’ve been fretting.”

  “It was just…ah…shocking for me to bump into her. I’ve been dithering over it and what it indicated.” He glanced at her over his shoulder, and he was quite morose. “She hasn’t received a single one of your letters.”

  “That’s my mother’s doing,” Susan fumed. “Ooh, if I ever have the misfortune to speak with that annoying woman ever again, I’ll definitely give her a verbal flaying.”

  “Nell claimed she was fine and that she and your mother are getting on famously.”

  “I can categorically state that that is a bald-faced lie. She and my mother never get on. Not ever.”

  He turned away from the window, his hips leaned on the sill. “Why would she say it then?”

  “She doesn’t know you well enough to confide that sort of issue. You’re practically a stranger, and she’s my parents’ ward. Why would she confess that she’s treated horribly? It’s not the type of detail a person freely shares.”

  At the comment, he appeared as if he might disagree with her assessment. But what part of it?

  Susan recalled how he’d flirted outrageously with Nell, how he’d constantly dragged her into deserted salons and kissed her senseless, and a niggling suspicion dawned.

  Might there have been more to their association than Susan had comprehended? Had he been smitten by Nell? Had he been overly smitten? If so, what was his opinion now? And what might he be prepared to do about it?

  “I’ve always wanted to rescue her from my parents’ house,” she said.

  He hesitated, then admitted, “Yes, she told me about that.”

  “I promised her I’d bring her to live with me at Selby.”

  “She told me that too.”

  “Could she come
to stay for a bit? Or perhaps for an extended period? She’s marvelous company, and I’d love to have her with me.”

  There was another lengthy hesitation as he struggled with what his reply should be. For a moment, his mask fell away, and it seemed as if she observed intense grief and heartbreak. Could it be? Was he heartbroken over Nell?

  “She won’t come,” he said. “I asked her, and she refused.”

  Susan frowned. “Why would she have? She has to realize I’m waiting for her.”

  “She likely…ah…wouldn’t accept because of me.”

  “Because of you? Why would that be?” The query hung between them, and she stared him down, her potent gaze apprising him he couldn’t skate away without explaining. “Were you awful to her for some reason? As I am incredibly devoted to her, I pray that you weren’t.”

  “Me—be awful to her? Gad, no. I think she’s…extraordinary.”

  “Then why won’t she come back?”

  “When she was here, she and I were friendly.”

  Susan scoffed. “Nell and I are like sisters, Nathan. The two of you traveled quite a distance beyond friendship. According to her, you used to pull her into empty parlors to misbehave.”

  His cheeks flushed. “I can’t believe she told you that.”

  “She tells me everything.”

  “Probably not everything,” he said.

  The remark sounded scandalous, and there were so many dire possibilities hinted at that she didn’t venture down the road he was intimating. More blandly, she inquired, “Were you fond of her?”

  “Yes, very fond.”

  “How about if I invite her to Selby for you? I’m sure I can find a way to contact her. I’ll nag until I persuade her. Would you like to see her again? Would you be amenable?”

  “Yes. No. Maybe.” He shrugged, then scowled. “Don’t listen to me. I’m babbling like a lunatic.”

  “If I can convince her to come, there has to be a valid purpose underlying the request. It couldn’t simply be to dally in dark corners.”

  It was a brazen suggestion that alluded to matrimony. If he was merely contemplating mischief, Susan wouldn’t conspire with him, for she agreed with him that Nell was extraordinary.

  If Susan could coax her to return, he would have to step up and make promises Susan would guarantee he kept. Would he consider it? Would he stoop to having a female like Nell as his bride?