by Abby Ayles
“I have yet to take you on any of the walks or rides that I promised you,” Lord Ridgecleff replied. “Flowers seemed to barely cover the apology necessary. Do you not like them?”
The truth was that Natalie loved them. They were beautiful, pink and white and periwinkle. She had them placed in her room.
She’d never been sent flowers before. Never been properly courted in that way. It was a bold move, to send a gift to a lady. It was usually only done by a gentleman who was certain of the lady returning his affections.
For a fiancé to send them to his intended bride, however, they were a lovely and acceptable gift.
After that, every few days there were some flowers for her. Lord Ridgecleff must have accounted for the wilting of the previous bouquet, for the new flowers would always arrive just as the previous ones were starting to droop and go brown about the edges of the petals.
Natalie made an effort to rise earlier in the morning so that she might be available for a walk with him. It took a week or so as he was immersed in his business with his father. But then, one morning as she was reading, he entered.
“Would you be free to walk the grounds with me?” he asked.
Natalie set aside her book. She still found them a bit dull for her tastes. Dull or too fantastic. She couldn’t understand how Regina could read all those ridiculous Gothic stories.
“Certainly,” she said.
Walking wasn’t her favorite thing to do. Or, rather, in the past it hadn’t been. She found it was quite different when she was walking with Lord Ridgecleff.
He knew so much about the surrounding area. Before when she had gone on walks with people, they inevitably ran out of conversation. The stumbling half-starts of attempted subjects had grated on her. There was never a lack of things to talk about at a ball.
But Lord Ridgecleff seemed always to have a new question for her. He challenged her on her thoughts about life, and philosophy. Natalie found the ridiculous lessons she’d had from Bridget as a child were coming in handy.
They discussed what sort of person would be good for Miss Ridgecleff to marry. They talked about the Morrisons and Natalie told him of her sisters. And she listened—she was trying very hard to listen.
“Tell me of the Continent,” she would tell him. Then she would try not to say a single word except to prompt him for another story.
She learned quite a good deal about art from him. It seemed that visiting the art museums and colleges was one of his greatest pleasures while in Europe.
At first it was hard to keep silent. She had so many thoughts! They were all crowding up in her head and she felt she would burst if she didn’t say them aloud.
But then as time went on it got easier. She started to realize that some thoughts just weren’t worth sharing. Others if she saved them she could reformulate into something wittier or more profound.
She stopped waiting for simply the next moment to speak and started actually caring about what he had to say. She cared more about what Lord Ridgecleff said than what she was going to say in response.
Natalie found that she liked to hear him speak. He had a deep, sonorous voice. He told stories well, with wit and charm. He gestured when he really got into a story, she noticed. He would move his hands as though pointing at invisible objects or people that only he could see.
Indeed, the more time she spent with him, the more she was finding that she liked him.
Louisa said little on the matter. But sometimes Natalie would catch sight of her sister smiling at her oddly.
“What is it?” she would ask.
“Oh, nothing,” Louisa always replied.
The earl, Natalie quickly learned, was rather hard on his eldest son. In a way she couldn’t blame him. Lord Ridgecleff had all but run off for years.
Miss Ridgecleff told Natalie a bit of it as well, as she and Natalie grew closer.
“They’re very similar,” she said. “Father is a hard man in general. He expects quite a lot from people. As does John, I’m afraid.
“They have their expectations of others and that includes of one another. And when someone doesn’t meet those expectations—well.
“John running off to the Continent like that rather broke Father’s heart. He’ll never admit it, of course. He’s too proud for that. But you can see it in how he refuses to compliment John now. I think that he thinks that if he compliments John or commends him that it will somehow say that John was right in his actions.”
“But doesn’t he see that it only continues to push his son away?” Natalie asked. It seemed counterintuitive to her. If you wanted someone to be more attentive to you then you complimented them. You didn’t continue to berate them.
But then, perhaps she was not the best person to look to in regards to how to treat others.
Still, as time went on, she grew to see the moments when Lord Ridgecleff was stressed from his work with his father.
She made a habit of stopping by the study after making morning calls. There was only Miss Hunsford and Mrs. Hapson to call upon in any case. It didn’t take long.
Lord Ridgecleff would generally be deep into his work. At first he had all but snapped at her when she came in. It was an invasion of his space and privacy. It was an unnecessary interruption. And so on.
But Natalie was not the sort to give in easily. She was the determined sort. And she was very persuasive.
She would ask what he was doing in order to draw him into conversation.
“It is my duty as your future wife and as the mistress of Mountbank,” she would say.
At first, Lord Ridgecleff was reluctant. He didn’t want to be interrupted and said so, often.
But as the days went on he started to turn away from his papers more easily. He would actively answer her questions. He would volunteer information.
It came to be that she could sense him waiting for her. Anticipating her. He would turn immediately when she knocked on the doorframe as she entered.
“Come in,” he’d say, and sometimes she thought she caught him almost smiling at her.
Sometimes, now, he would even let her talk about things other than business. She would tell him of her morning visits. She would read to him for a short bit as well.
The books still bored her but not as much as they used to. She found that she enjoyed them in the sense that she enjoyed watching Lord Ridgecleff’s reactions as she read.
The lines on his face would soften. His mouth would twitch in irritation, or sadness, or joy, depending upon what was happening in the book.
Natalie liked being able to do that. She liked being able to give him something and help to ease the stress that made the lines around his mouth and eyes deepen.
She found herself longing for the ability to draw him into the library and have him rest on the couch with his head in her lap. She wanted that little bit of intimacy.
But for now she was happy to make do with helping him. She found that she actually enjoyed being able to give someone something that helped them out. She liked being able to make him happy. Or at least happier than he was before she came in.
He needed the break, clearly. She was glad that she got to be the one to give it to him.
Lord Ridgecleff would seek her out as well aside from their walks. She had fallen into the habit of playing the pianoforte for the earl in the evenings after dinner. Lord Ridgecleff would find them and stand in the doorway, watching.
She would try not to look at him as she played. She wasn’t the best at the pianoforte but she did like to think that she could rather hold her own.
When he watched her play, however, she found herself nervous. She could feel his eyes upon her and would begin to panic internally about messing up, hitting a wrong note.
She had to force herself to play as though he was not in the room. It was ridiculous of her—to be so nervous over someone watching her!
Then there were the little gifts that Lord Ridgecleff would give her. Aside from the flowers. He had to go into tow
n one day for business and returned with some lovely ribbon for her.
“I thought the green might go well with your eyes,” he admitted. He sounded almost embarrassed to say such a thing. As if it was a vulnerability rather than a given that a man should notice the color of his fiancée’s eyes.
But then, Natalie had found herself blushing as well, smiling almost shyly as she had accepted the ribbon.
Miss Ridgecleff had helped to facilitate the next gift. She had taken Natalie down to a local farm where she revealed that the owner had a cat that had recently given birth.
Natalie gasped at the five tiny, wriggling, mewing little balls of fur.
“They are so cunning!” she said, gently picking one up. They were a silky gray color and so darling.
“My brother thought you might like one,” Miss Ridgecleff said, smiling brightly. “He wanted to bring you himself but Father’s kept him too busy this morning. The farmer is one of our tenants.”
Natalie held the small, precious bundle close to her chest. “May I play with them for a bit?” she asked the farmer.
“Of course, Miss.”
She played with the kittens with Miss Ridgecleff. They each had their distinct personalities. Some were more playful and others more subdued in their manner, yawning and staying curled up in little balls.
She ended up going for one, a boy, that was the right mix of playful and quiet. He engaged with her when she played with him, batting his tiny paws at her fingertips. But he was also content to sleep in her arms.
“I shall name him Thor,” she said. “After the God of Thunder.”
“That’s a rather large name for a tiny kitten,” Miss Ridgecleff noted.
“He shall grow into it. It’s a sign to encourage him to be fierce.” Natalie tickled his nose with the tip of her finger. “And besides, it matches his coloring. The gray is like a stormy sky, is it not?”
Miss Ridgecleff laughed. “That is true.”
She brought the kitten back, elated.
“Of course you would love a kitten,” Louisa said when she found out. She smiled, amused. “It has the same sort of temperament as you. You’re rather a cat yourself.”
“Am I?”
“Oh, yes,” said the voice of Lord Ridgecleff.
Natalie jumped a little, turning around, the kitten still clutched in her hands.
Lord Ridgecleff smiled. “Did you like the present?”
“Very much.” Natalie could feel her cheeks heating up. “But tell me, my lord, how am I like a cat?”
“Well, you’re proud,” Lord Ridgecleff noted. “And independent. Clever, witty. You don’t like to simply follow someone along like a dog. Your loyalty must be earned.”
“I suppose that I can live with that description,” Natalie said. “Although I believe you left off some points.”
“Such as?”
“Sophistication and elegance. Cats were worshipped as the messengers of the gods by the Egyptians, you know.”
“Ah, of course, how could I have forgotten?”
“Humility, of course, as well,” Natalie added, smiling.
That seemed to nearly get a laugh out of him. Then he grew serious again. “I have sent word to prepare my London apartment for us and for my sister.”
Ah, yes. Natalie had almost forgotten. They were to go to London in just a few days.
She had received a letter from Bridget detailing all the information about Elizabeth’s wedding. Yet she had not truly thought of it.
Now it was staring her in the face.
What was going to happen now that she and Lord Ridgecleff would no longer be in the safety of this small community?
It felt as though she was just now starting to find some kind of equilibrium with Lord Ridgecleff. She wasn’t sure if it was affection. It felt like it might be. But she’d never truly fallen for anyone before. How was she supposed to know?
All she knew was that they were no longer at one another’s throats. That was good enough for her. But could this truce that they seemed to have reached sustain itself when they were once again in London?
Natalie wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of herself, if she was really improving. Perhaps it was just all in her head.
She supposed that she would know shortly. Whether she wanted it to happen or not, they were going to London.
If only the thought didn’t make her feel sick.
Chapter 24
John felt unusually nervous.
He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He was a capable man for crying out loud. He could handle something as simple as going to London.
Yet he had felt that recently he had been starting to find something with Miss Natalie. She had started to come into the room in the late morning and read to him. He knew that she did not much enjoy reading and yet she did it, as if she had known that it would relax him.
He had grown to enjoy his walks with her as well. Ordinarily he preferred to take his walks alone. They were a time for him to gather his thoughts in the early morning before facing the day.
But he had promised that he would make an effort to spend time with her and so he was. And it seemed that she was making an effort as well.
She didn’t talk much on the walks. Instead she listened, prompting him with a few questions.
He found that he actually preferred it to thinking silently on his own. He could think aloud, talk about his time on the Continent. He hadn’t been able to really talk about it to his siblings for fear of making them envious or reminding them of how he had all but abandoned them.
But Miss Natalie was eager to hear about it. And when he had an issue that he was trying to work through, he could talk about it aloud to her. In speaking out loud he found that there were things he had previously missed, found his thought process easier to sort out.
Miss Natalie would sometimes offer suggestions. She did so not at all in the beginning. Then hesitantly, as though she thought she was going to stir his anger. He couldn’t blame her for that. Not when he had as good as told her to shut her mouth and keep her thoughts to herself.
But her insights were valuable. She was a clever girl, as he had always known. Now that cleverness was turned not towards making fun of others or idle gossip but towards the matters of the estate. It was pleasing, to say the least.
Now he had to give all of that up for London.
London was Miss Natalie’s element. It was where she flourished. The parties, the balls, the glittering decorations and gowns. The myriad people you could meet, all the gossip and flirting that could be done.
How was he supposed to compete with that?
He could put on his old charmer persona. But he didn’t want to pretend to be someone else. He didn’t want Miss Natalie to mistake him for one person or think that he’d been lying to her here at Mountbank.
Besides, if he won her at London by playing the flirt, who was to say that he’d keep her favor once they came back to Mountbank and he was his true self again?
He had become a bit of a rake out of defiance towards his father and because of his own feeling of a lack of direction. He had direction now. He was home and he intended to care for it. To go back to his old ways would be to lie to Miss Natalie and to himself.
But then, he feared he would lose her to that glittering lifestyle.
When he’d been in France, he had attended a performance by a troupe that called themselves ‘acrobats’. They performed the most stunning of feats. They swung from tiny ropes rigged into the ceiling, performed flips through the air, and contorted their bodies.
John had been certain that one of them must fall at least once. It hadn’t seemed possible that they should manage to catch themselves each time. He had been agog at all they had coaxed their fragile human bodies into doing.
One of the acts had been where two of the acrobats had done various tricks across a tightrope. The tightrope was literally that. Just a thin rope, pulled taut, and these men had to walk on it.
Not just walk, of course
. The walking had just been a warm up to show the audience. Their tricks had included flips and even riding a bicycle across.
But that walking, that was how John felt now. His relationship with his father, his position as heir, and his relationship with Miss Natalie: it was all a tightrope.
If he wobbled too far, put his weight too much on one side or the other, down he would plunge.
There was nothing for it, however, was there? Miss Natalie couldn’t miss her sister’s wedding. Emma couldn’t afford to miss the season. And he had to attend, to meet his new in-laws.
Not to mention, the jealous part of him wanted to keep an eye on Miss Natalie. Even though he knew she would never consciously stray, her lack of recognition that Mr. Cleary intended her to made John protective of her.
She could so easily accidentally stumble into something immoral if she was not warned. He shuddered to think if he had not shown her, how long things would have gone on before she realized that Mr. Cleary was after her rather than merely listening to her attempts to talk Emma up.
No, he knew how Cleary worked, and men like him. There were plenty of them in London, he knew. He wouldn’t let that happen to Miss Natalie. A young woman making a mistake because she was led astray by a man did not earn from him judgment on the lady. But it did earn the fiercest condemnation on the man.
He was therefore without recourse. He must go to London.
He could only hope that the fragile truce brought up between him and his intended bride would prevail.
Chapter 25
Natalie was greatly excited for London.
She was also excruciatingly nervous.
The closer the day grew, the higher her nerves got. She wanted to go and be a part of the season. Her favorite part of the year. Balls! The theatre! Dinner parties! Calling upon anyone and everyone! The parks, the art shows, the whole atmosphere! London was an endless series of fascinations to her.
Yet she feared for her relationship with Lord Ridgecleff. He must have seen so many wonderful young ladies on the Continent. There were plenty of beauties with wit and charm in London. What if he remembered how selfishly she had behaved and abandoned her for one of them?
