An Arrangement of Sorts

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An Arrangement of Sorts Page 7

by Rebecca Connolly


  “You did not. At any rate, anybody would be cross waiting that long in the frigid morning air,” she argued, still smiling. “I can only imagine how grumbly you would be if you had to endure that.”

  “I would not be grumbly!”

  “Oh, believe me, you would be,” she promised, shaking her head. “You are a very grumbly man. And terribly pensive. You need to let some more light into your life, Nathan.”

  “I have light aplenty,” he assured her, laughing in spite of himself. “I am very pleasant person when I am not in the company of someone who drives me to distraction.” Now she let out a bark of laughter, and he grinned. “Besides, there is nothing wrong with being pensive. I find that reflection often brings better insight.”

  Moira took a bite out of an apple that seemed to appear out of thin air. “Well,” she said around her rather large mouthful, “I find that reflection only serves to make me depressed, but perhaps that is only me and my flaws.”

  “Where did you get that?” he asked, feeling rather hungry himself, in spite of their having had a light breakfast not so long ago.

  She grinned, one side of her face puffing out around her bite of apple. “The inn. I took the liberty of packing away some items to tide us over until we stop again. Would you like one?”

  He nodded, amused by her minor thievery.

  She reached into the satchel that hung on one side of her and tossed the apple to him, which he caught deftly. He took a bite out of it and cocked his head, looking at her. “You were right, you know.”

  “Of course, I was,” she said immediately, which made him laugh. “But about what in particular this time?”

  He grinned rather deviously, which he saw made her wary. “You do take rather large bites when eating an apple.”

  Her eyes widened slightly, but she was soon laughing with him. “I know I do,” she moaned. “I can’t help it. It seems the best way to eat them. Not very ladylike, to be sure, but…”

  “No, not at all, but I agree with you.”

  She stilled, her eyes wide, her face suddenly devoid of laughter.

  “What?” he asked, startled by the change in her. “Moira, what?”

  “We… we agree on something?” she asked in a hushed voice, her expression very nearly horror-struck.

  Nathan only had to wait a moment before Moira’s face broke into a grin and she started to laugh, and, after realizing he had been had, he released the breath he’d been holding and joined her.

  “You should have seen your face!” she cried, her cheeks flushing with laughter.

  “You are terrible,” he told her, shaking his head. “Absolutely dreadful.”

  “But a much better actress than you give me credit for,” she pointed out. “Admit it, I had you convinced.”

  He shook his head. “Not even for a moment. I knew you had some sort of trick hidden about you, I just was not sure where it lay.”

  “Oh, please,” she scoffed, taking another large bite of apple, “You were petrified that you had said or done something wrong.”

  There was no way he was going to let her win this little game of hers. “If we agreed on something,” he growled, “then I obviously did.”

  She threw her head back and laughed, all inhibitions gone. “True enough.”

  Nathan continued to chuckle, but he knew that he would never get the image of her laughing out of his mind. The way she had simply tossed back that mass of glorious hair and laughed, without restraint or delicacy, had been breathtaking, and not just because she was beautiful. It was simply her, just Moira, her very essence captured in that laugh. It was as though he had suddenly experienced his very first breath of fresh air, and was now wondering what it was he had been breathing all this time. She was so alive, and he wished he could be the same.

  He had spent so long hiding from himself, from the world. Only his friends knew him, and even they did not know as much as they thought they did. His own family was in disarray, not knowing if any of the others were alive or dead. He used to be troubled by it all, by everything he saw in the army, by everything he had gone through. He had since learned that the best way to endure life’s hardships was to feel nothing.

  It was not until he had inherited the earldom that he had realized that in feeling nothing, he had become nothing. He did not want to be nothing. He now had tenants who depended on him, lands that were under his care, and people who genuinely needed him. He could no longer hide himself, and he did not wish to. That was what had brought the earldom down in the first place; his uncle had decided the best course was no course at all, and how many had suffered at that one decision?

  Nathan was better than that. He would no longer allow himself to feel nothing but rejuvenating one’s dormant heart was not as easily done as he would wish.

  Perhaps this infuriating woman could help him find his way back to the living.

  If she could not, then he was not certain anyone would be able to.

  Chapter Six

  “How did you discover that thing with the bird?”

  Nathan blinked back the drowsiness that had overcome him and looked over at his companion, who had been surprisingly silent for some time. He had enjoyed the respite from thinking and reacting, and noticed that now the sun was nearing its zenith. They ought to think about stopping for a mid-day meal, if they wanted to have any sort of strength to press on for the night.

  “Let’s give the horses a rest and walk for a bit,” he suggested, reigning in Mercury.

  She shrugged and reigned Flora in. “Only if you will tell me the story.”

  “I will, I swear, but we can walk for a bit. I think my legs need it.”

  “Oh, well, for the sake of your legs, let’s walk, by all means,” she commented dryly, shifting in her saddle.

  He dismounted and went over to help her, only to find that she had already made her own way down. “I could help you down from the horse, you know.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “Why?”

  “Because that is generally how things go,” he said with infinite patience, or so it seemed to him anyway. “A gentleman assists a lady down from her horse.”

  “But that is assuming the lady in question requires assistance, which I don’t. I fail to see why this matters.”

  “Of course you do,” he muttered. “It’s just proper, Moira. I know you can do it, but it would be ladylike to allow me to assist you.”

  She frowned up at him. “I thought I had made it clear that I care very little for what is ladylike.”

  He sighed in irritation and threw up his hands. “Forget it, of course, you are right. Get yourself off of the horse, open your own doors, and ride astride, I don’t care. Would you like to lead in dancing as well?” He shook his head and moved back to Mercury, taking his reigns in hand, and beginning to walk away.

  Moira hesitated only a moment, then she followed. “I have upset you,” she commented.

  “I am not upset, just frustrated.” His voice was more than a touch sharp, but he was trying with all of his might to keep himself in check. If there was one thing he had learned about Moira, it was that, as prickly and feisty as she appeared, she was rather sensitive at heart.

  “There’s a difference?”

  He closed his eyes and fought for control. “Yes, there is. Upset would involve anger. It would be due to something that had been done to offend me or something I had done myself. It would be far more disconcerting. I would be yelling.”

  “You look as if you would like to be.”

  He took in a would-be calming breath through his nose and let it out again slowly. “Frustration,” he continued, completely ignoring her, “is different. It is agitation due to circumstances that are out of my control. I may become moody or snappish, but as it is not in my control, there would be no cause to be upset.”

  “So this is you exhibiting frustration.”

  “Yes.”

  “Because I wouldn’t let you help me off of Flora?” she asked.

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sp; He sighed again, this time in resignation. “No, Moira, that is not it.”

  “What, then? I don’t understand what should upset you, excuse me, frustrate you, about that.”

  He could not help the small tick of a smile that threatened. No, she probably did not. It made him wonder again just what sort of life she had led. She had no notion of niceties or decorum, and yet she held herself with such airs. He was unwillingly fascinated.

  “That was simply an example. I have been trying to be a gentleman with you, showing the proper respect and honor for a lady, and either you do not understand or you do not wish me to be such a person. It is in my nature to act this way, far beyond habit now.” There, that seemed to be clear enough.

  “I haven’t prevented you from anything. You can act in any manner that you choose, and quite freely at that.”

  Perhaps not.

  “A gentleman helps a lady, whether she needs it or not,” he told her, casting an impatient glance at her. “Giving her his arm to lead her across the street, or helping her out of a carriage, or off of a horse, or protecting her when the time arises. It is chivalrous and admirable and what is expected of a gentleman. You are not allowing me to do that.”

  “But that would put you above me,” she protested, still looking confused. “That would imply that I need assistance, that I’m unable to do things for myself. It would make me appear weak.”

  “No, it wouldn’t. It would merely show that you are letting me be a gentleman.”

  She shook her head. “Nathan, I want us to be equals in this. If I am capable enough to do something, why shouldn’t I do it? Why does that have to be unladylike, just so a man can put himself above me?”

  “Do I look like I want to set myself above you?” he cried, gesturing to himself. “I have no such designs, I know that we are equals. I accept it and rejoice in it. In fact, I think you are far above me, which is as it should be. But for God’s sake, Moira, let me have a little dignity as a man!”

  She continued to stare at him and he could see her mind whirling behind those eyes. “If I let you help me, only on occasion…” she stipulated with a warning finger.

  He rolled his own and nodded. “Very well, on occasion, then.”

  She nodded in return. “Then you will be satisfied?”

  He grunted. “More satisfied than I am now, but not entirely.”

  “That is the best I can do, Nathan. I am simply not ladylike and that is all there is to it.”

  He exhaled slowly, his eyes scanning her face. “It does not bother me if you don’t wish to be a fine lady in all things,” he said softly. “I know you want to be independent and strong, and I think that a noble thing. All I ask is that you try to let me be who I am, and that is a gentleman. At heart, and to the core. Can you allow me that?”

  That troubled her, he could see, but she nodded slowly. “I can try, I suppose.”

  He continued to watch her for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Now, if I remember correctly, you wished to know how I came to discover that I could sneak up on a bird.”

  She turned to him with a grin. “Yes, indeed. I have been thinking it over, and I can’t see how it can be done.”

  “Well, it’s not easily accomplished, that is for certain,” he told her, enjoying the opportunity to share something amusing from his past instead of fighting with her. “And it all started with my friend Colin, who prides himself on being rather mischievous and sly…”

  Not much further down the road, they came to a small village with a coaching station, and they opted to stop there for a meal. Moira insisted on paying, which made Nathan grumble, but considering what she thought of his finances, he did not have much of a choice. The meal was rather hearty, but soon enough they decided to depart again. There was not much to be gained from this place, and they would certainly have better luck when they stopped for the evening. Proceeding out of the building, Nathan was shocked to find Moira standing beside Flora and looking at him expectantly.

  “What is this?” he asked with a smile.

  “I have decided to attempt to be ladylike,” she said simply. “If for no other reason than to make you feel useful.”

  He laughed. “Well, my pride thanks you.” He formed a lattice with his fingers and bent down slightly. “Set your foot upon my hands.”

  She did so, looking rather dubious.

  “Oh, come now, Moira, how did you manage getting on a horse without help before?” he chided with a smile.

  “There was a stool I stood upon,” she said with a shrug. “It was very simple.”

  “So is this,” he replied as he easily helped her onto Flora’s back.

  “Well,” she said, looking a touch surprised, “so it is. That was very easily done, wasn’t it?”

  “Very,” he agreed as he situated himself upon Mercury’s back. “And not limiting to your independence?”

  She shook her head. “Not a bit. Had I the fortune to be taller than I am, I would not have needed you at all.”

  He rolled his eyes and turned Mercury away from the station to continue down the road. “You have entirely missed the point, Moira.”

  “I have not!” she cried as she caught up. “You played the gentleman very well, thank you for helping me onto my horse. I have the ability to do it myself, but it was much faster and more expedient to have you assist. In the future, I will allow you to continue the same. Fair enough?”

  He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “Fair enough. Now, I think there is something you can do for me.”

  “Oh dear. What is that?”

  He grinned at her. “I think you need to prove to me that you can whistle like a man.”

  She blushed slightly, but smiled. “Flora won’t like it.”

  He looked down at the horse, who appeared as though she would not care at all. “I don’t think she will mind just once.” He peered back to Moira. “Unless, of course, you were not being truthful and you can’t whistle at all.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, and he grinned mischievously at her. She shook her head and sighed, then placed her fingers in her mouth and let out the loudest, most piercing whistle he had ever heard in his entire life.

  He laughed at her embarrassment, but more so at her skill. “Rather impressive, Moira,” he said, clapping his hands and still chuckling. “I haven’t heard any whistle as loud as that, from man or woman. How did you learn?”

  “One of the neighbors taught me when I was a child,” she said, smiling faintly. “He raised cattle and it was the only way to get them in at night. I was curious, so asked how he did it. He was more than pleased to teach me. My aunt was mortified.”

  “I bet she was,” he said with a laugh. “She sounds as if a great many things mortified her.”

  “They did,” Moira muttered darkly, not smiling any longer.

  Nathan’s urge to laugh had faded at her expression. Something had happened to this woman to cause such pain at a simple recollection. There was something deeper, and darker, at work here. He didn’t know if she would ever want to open up about it. Not that he blamed her; he had enough horrors in his past to appreciate privacy. But he felt himself wanting to take away the hurt he sensed in her.

  Suddenly, Moira turned to him, her face determined to look composed. “So you have told me about some of your friends so far. I know about Derek, who is secretly very amusing and is married to a woman that makes him unhappy, and Colin, who likes to pretend that he is clever and charming and considers himself the leader. There were two other men with you. Who are they?”

  Nathan smiled at her attempt to change the subject, but he was more than happy to discuss his friends. “The first is Geoffrey. He is one of the most genuinely nice persons I have ever met, but don’t be deceived by it. He has a wicked sense of timing and is actually quite devious, but no one suspects him as he appears to be so very innocent.”

  “Geoffrey: very nice, but devious and not as innocent as he looks,” she repeated as if committing it to memory.
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br />   He chuckled, but did not comment. “Then there is Duncan. He is an oaf, but a surprisingly well-dressed one. And the kindest oaf there ever was.”

  Moira snickered. “Now what in heaven’s name does that mean?”

  Nathan smirked fondly. “Duncan takes a great deal of pride in his appearance. It makes him a little bit of a dandy, but he would deny that emphatically. He declares it is merely an interest in looking his best at all times. But he is more than willing to help any soul he comes across however he is dressed at the time, whether they be a carriage stuck in the mud or a lost child.” As a matter of fact, Nathan had seen him do both of those things, and on both occasions he was quite fashionably dressed.

  “So how is he an oaf?” Moira asked, confused.

  Nathan gave her a look. “Have you ever seen a raging bull?”

  “Of course.”

  He nodded. “That is what Duncan looks like.”

  Now she laughed out loud, and Nathan did as well.

  “You cannot ever tell them this is how I describe them,” he warned her, still chuckling. “They would flay me alive and coat me in honey.”

  “Oh, I never shall, if ever I meet them,” she promised. Then she grinned. “Unless I can see no other way to blackmail you.”

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  She shrugged. “You never know. A girl has got to be prepared for all eventualities.”

  Nathan shook his head, still smiling. “I shouldn’t be surprised, I know, but I am.”

  “That may be the most concise, yet correct, estimation of my character I have heard yet,” Moira quipped, looking mildly impressed and more than a little proud.

  “What of your friends?” Nathan asked, feeling rather curious about the adventures of young Moira.

  Her smile faded and she shrugged. “I have none.”

  That took him completely by surprise, and he knew he could not hide it. “Surely you have some friends. You must have some from when you were a child, at the very least.”

  She shook her head, unwilling to meet his eyes. “Charles was the only person near my own age who would have conversation with me beyond what is polite. I came to live with my aunt when I was eight years old and she was not exactly well liked in the village. It was rare for us to leave our own garden. And when we did, it was difficult for me to relate with the other children, and none seemed anxious to try. It was… a lonely time for me.”

 

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