Nathan’s attempt to stifle a groan was a dismal failure. The old, familiar anger rushed through his chest in a hot wave. “God, Alexandra. Stop being such a grasping female. It’s not attractive.” He stalked to the door, pausing in its frame. “I refuse to be your bit of cheese before a rat and will not further your ambition. Good day.”
Perhaps hiding from everyone for the remainder of the house party would be in his best interests. Knowing Lady Sophia only showed an interest in him for his title left a bad taste in his mouth. Part of him wished his life was different, but then he shoved the twinge away. None of it mattered for he would never marry. The title was his lot. He’d known this for many years.
Nathan hunched deeper into his greatcoat as he walked into the wind. The weak sunshine couldn’t compete with the winter temperatures, but he gloried in the brisk air. He’d lasted all of thirty minutes in his bedroom before boredom overtook him. Normally, when he spent time in the country, he took long morning walks or rode his horse through the wilderness. However, with Jamie and his friends underfoot, no place was sacred—save one. There was a spot near the hedgerow at the back of his property where he often went when he wished to be alone. There, tucked away from the world and mostly shielded by evergreen trees, he could be alone with his thoughts and convince himself he wasn’t the man his father had been. In the warmer months, the gentle babble of a meandering creek gave him back a modicum of calm his life stole from him. Today, the water would be frozen, but meditation wouldn’t have changed.
As the sound of his boots crunching through the snow kept time, he concentrated on the nip of the cold at his ears beneath the brim of his hat and the puffy pattern of his breath on the frosty air. Charlotte remained uppermost in his mind, along with his terrible treatment of her. Perhaps I am my father’s son after all and there’s no escaping it. Nathan frowned. His father had been a horribly strict man who ruled his home, family, and holdings with an iron fist. Beatings were common for him and his sister, although Alexandra’s discipline was different than his. Often, Father would lock her in the cellar or a cupboard off the kitchen instead of marking her with a rod. Only his mother’s pleas to not damage their only daughter spared her the physical abuse.
A sick feeling churned in the pit of his belly as it did every time he thought of his formative years. Mother had succumbed to pneumonia when he’d been sixteen. Alexandra had just been married. Perhaps his parent had thought he could fend for himself against his father, and since Alexandra was out of the house, she could let go and give up on her own life. Oh, Nathan had been angry when she passed. He’d blamed his father for driving her into such a deep depression she could only escape with death. The late marquess had grown darker without his wife, and Nathan had borne the brunt of the rage if only to spare the servants or tenants.
It had been a blessing of sorts when his father died after an ill-timed jump over a weak spot in the back hedgerow. Nathan had come into the title on his twenty-sixth birthday and gladly buried himself in the task. Had his father done his work too well in rearing him? Nathan shook his head to dislodge the worrisome thought. Yes, he possessed a temper, and though it wasn’t nearly as bad as his father’s had been, most of his tenants and servants were afraid of him.
Some of the stories had gotten so out of hand that the locals had spread the rumor he was a wolf and when he fell into a temper, and that he changed into the animal and prowled the land. Those he ignored. Small minds invented large tales. None of it mattered as long as he didn’t hurt people as his father had. To date, he’d never laid a hand on anyone in anger. It must stay that way, and it would the longer he kept people away. He had acquaintances in Parliament and in London, but no close contemporaries. He strove to leave a situation before anger could grow or consume him.
When the opportunity to serve king and country by fighting the French in Spain had come up, he’d accepted with alacrity, but his detainment had done him no favors and only provoked the rage he strove to keep in check, especially after the betrayal of his closest friend.
The cry of a hawk shattered the stillness around him and yanked Nathan from his dark musings. He glanced at the pristine sky, so blue and deceptive, and then blew out a breath. Returning to his familial manor house soothed him like nothing else. Perhaps he would survive his life after all, though remaining unattached was imperative. Besides, what sweet, loving woman would want to show a romantic interest in a flawed man like him? And if she did, he didn’t know if he could shield her from his dark side when some days it was a struggle not to put his fist through a door. He couldn’t live with himself if he harmed a person and a woman at that.
Time spent alone was a most welcome prospect.
As Nathan pushed between two fir trees, snow fell from the branches to his shoulders. He brushed it off then sucked in a breath. He froze. Charlotte sat, perched on a fallen tree, facing the near-frozen creek. She looked fetching in her sapphire coat and with the scarf over her hair. Despite the fact every one of his acquaintance knew to never invade his sanctuary, he wasn’t annoyed she did. In a way, it made sense she’d found it; hadn’t they started their friendship with her butting in where he didn’t want her?
“What a pleasant surprise.” He forced himself forward until he stood before her though Charlotte’s back was to him. What did one do in a situation like this when, once again, he was most inappropriately alone with a woman, and one who had the capacity to drive him mad?
She startled, sprang to her feet, then turned so quickly her skirts briefly flared about her ankles. And deliciously trim ankles they were, too. “Somehow, I’m not convinced it is a pleasant surprise.” She raked her gaze over his form. Heat skittered over his skin from the regard. “I’ve accidentally stumbled into a private place, haven’t I?”
“You have. However, I don’t mind sharing it with you.” He gestured at the log. “Please, resume your seat and contemplation. This spot is conducive to reflection. I come here quite often myself.”
“Will you share the morning with me?” Charlotte settled in and held his gaze, hers a brilliant blue. “It would be a shame to waste the quiet. As much as I adore Jamie, he does tend to prattle on about meaningless things at times.”
“Both counts are true.” He stood, awkwardly stamping the snow from his boots, and when her kissable lips formed a tiny pout, he quickly took seat next to her. “What are you doing out here? I thought you might have gone riding except you didn’t follow the group.”
“You spied on me?” Indignation sent her voice up an octave.
“Come down from the boughs. I wasn’t spying. I merely watched the party head out from my sitting room window.” What did a man do in such a situation? Pat the woman’s hand? Somehow that seemed patronizing. Not to mention, for all intents and purposes, he’d compromised her in his study and hadn’t apologized for it. What a coil. Instead, he did nothing save rest his gloved hands on his thighs and wait.
How ridiculous I am. He was out of practice socializing with the opposite sex. Had never sought them out for any purpose in recent years.
“Well, I suppose that’s different.”
“Are you an avid proponent of nature then?”
“Not especially.” She lifted her face to the chilly breeze. “I might not enjoy many outdoor activities, but that doesn’t mean I hate the out of doors.”
“Does that mean you dislike horseback riding?”
“Very much so.” She turned slightly toward him and her knee brushed his. “No matter how much I adore the animals, they refuse to keep me seated. Once,” a smile curved her lips. “A gentleman had taken me riding one morning in the summertime. We’d barely gone a mile away from the house before my horse just quit moving forward. No amount of urging would encourage it along the path, but the moment I touched a heel to its side, it spooked and reared. I found myself on my bottom in the dust with a smarting pride.”
The heat that transferred from her to him distracted him. “How unfortunate.” He stared at her lips before y
anking his gaze to the trampled snow at his feet. “Perhaps you haven’t found the right teacher or a challenge tempting enough to keep you in the saddle.” Shock settled in his chest upon realizing his intention was to tease her.
One of her eyebrows rose. “Careful, Lord Ravenhurst. It sounds as if you wish to be such a teacher.”
“My name is Nathan.” For reasons he refused to puzzle out, he yearned to hear her make use of it. “I know you can say it.”
Her smile widened. “Nathan.” No trace of censure appeared in her gaze. Perhaps she didn’t hold his inexcusable behavior the other day against him.
“Much better. And no, I hadn’t considered a position of riding instructor, but perhaps I should. It would depend on the student.” Imagine meeting her early in the morning at the stables. Time alone spent only in her company, teaching her to ride. Yet, the last time they had been alone, disaster had nearly befallen them. “Would you be interested?” Shock from his daring shot through his chest.
“I’m not entirely certain.” She looked away. “I haven’t attempted riding for many years.”
“Well, perhaps when you’re ready you’ll find someone willing to instruct and encourage.” Heavy silence lingered between them as he searched for something else to say. The art of conversing had apparently escaped him as well. “You should wear blue more often.” He blurted the observation without conscious thought.
She lifted her gaze to his, curiosity and pleasure warring in her eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
His pulse thundered in his ears, but he swallowed his anxiety. “Blue suits your complexion and your eyes. If you should decide to stop playing companion to Jamie and his friends and enter the Marriage Mart, remember to wear shades of blue. You’ll land a husband within a month, I’d wager.”
A pretty blush stained her pale cheeks. Was it due to the cold or his words? “Thank you, but I have no intentions to marry.”
“Ever, or in the immediate future?” It was bad form to pry, yet the need to know her answer and reasoning scratched at his brain.
Charlotte chuckled. “Now or ever. I’m not certain if I want to marry, for it makes men fat and lazy and interminable pushovers. It turns the best of men into spineless slaves.”
A laugh escaped him when he didn’t know that he could laugh. “Not all men. Some will retain their superiority and masculinity even through the marriage bond. Are there none who have caught your fancy?” Why am I so inordinately interested in her romantic affairs? Not two hours ago, he couldn’t wait for her to quit the estate and leave him in peace.
“Oh, you mean you realize I have no designs on your or your nephew?” Again, her eyebrow rose, but there was no animosity in her expression. “Did you assert your ‘masculinity and superiority’ in your study?” This time, a note of teasing rang in her voice.
Heat crept up his neck. Ah, there it was. “Yes, well.” He had not the capacity to form a comeback, so he ignored the rib. “I apologize for what I said in the maze.” His shoulders relaxed slightly. “I was trying to protect Jamie.”
“It’s quite all right. And protect yourself, I would imagine.”
“Indeed. There are fortune hunters aplenty. I do not wish to land any of them. If I had my way, I’d scoop them up and send them back to wherever they came from before allowing them back in my vicinity.”
“That is good news.”
“But…” Why the devil did he even want to bring this up? “As for our contretemps in my study, I won’t apologize for that. In fact, it was rather refreshing.” Would she take exception to that and flounce away in a temper? She should. What kind of woman in her right mind would think her near ravishment was refreshing?
Amusement danced in her eyes. “I didn’t ask you to apologize. I enjoyed our time together for what it was. I, for one, thought it thrilling and quite exciting. However, I would appreciate it if it remained a secret between the two of us.”
“Of course.” He nodded. “It reflects poorly on both of us.”
“No, I merely wish to not have that particular memory sullied by gossips.” She sought out his gaze and held it. “You’re not accustomed to being on intimate terms with people, are you? The fact you and I sparked has thrown you into a tither. I suspect you wish to be left alone more often than not.”
“I thought I did.” Not for worlds would he admit to enjoying her company. Perhaps for her he’d make an exception.
She laid a mitten-covered hand on his sleeve. “And no, I’ve yet to meet a man who will personally challenge me or…” Her gaze skittered over his left shoulder.
If possible, his heartbeat pounded harder. Though it had been a long time since he’d tried his hand at courting, his gut clenched with excitement as he realized he very much wanted to do so with her. So much for wishing for solitude. It was inconceivable his desires had blown away and changed direction like the fickle wind, but there it was. He cupped her cheek and turned her face toward him. “Or what?”
Charlotte moistened her lips. He followed her movements, his gaze fixated on her mouth. “I want a man to set my insides aflame as well as stand up to my penchant for bossiness, for I know I have a terrible penchant to manage people. I detest a man who allows the people in his life to order him about or lead him around by his nose. A man’s word should be the end of it. I would back down if I knew a man truly issued his command from love.”
Surprise tightened his chest. “What if the man is afraid if he exerts his authority, he’d let too much anger fly upon someone else?” For one insane second, he hoped Charlotte might be the one to overlook his family history or the rumors flying about him and accept him for the man he was.
“Then he is not the man he can be. A man can be strong and assertive without allowing his temper to harm the people around him. A man can rule his household with love and respect instead of cruelty and hate.” She leaned into his palm ever so slightly. “There is a difference. You have a choice. Exercise it wisely. Become the man you have always dreamed of being.”
When she stood and shook out her gown, Nathan shot to his feet as well. The sudden movement left him lightheaded—or perhaps it was her insight and simple summation of his case that had warmth flooding his body. Barring that, her presence affected him more than it should, and if that were so, he was in trouble. “May I ask you a question?” He barely forced the inquiry out of a tight throat. It had been a long time indeed since he’d wished to put himself out for a woman’s regard.
“Of course.” She cocked her head, her expression expectant.
“Is it possible to look past a man’s reputation or family history and see him for the man he could be?”
Charlotte grabbed his hand. “I think it’s possible to see him for the man he is. The man he could be is up to him. All he needs to do is trod the correct path and not let his past history define him.”
A weight of sorts lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in years it felt as if the darkness marring his future would lighten. He didn’t want to analyze why he thought so. “That, my dear, is the most sensible thing you’ve said this week.” Before he could change his intent, Nathan tugged her into his arms, fit his lips over hers and kissed her.
Unlike the first two they’d shared, this one was neither rushed nor punishing. He moved his mouth over hers with gentle care, tasting her, teasing her… wooing her. The thought gave him pause. At Charlotte’s whimpered protest, he pushed everything from his mind and resumed the kiss. He nibbled the corners of her mouth then ran his tongue along the soft sweep of her bottom lip. Would she let him deepen their embrace? Kissing her gave him hope that perhaps he shouldn’t keep himself aloof from life, that perhaps there was hope he could have something more than what he’d allotted himself.
Seconds later, Charlotte pulled away. Her lips were as pink as her cheeks, but her smile could light up the darkest bit of forest. “You do well with finesse behind you. It’s an acceptable start.”
Did that mean she’d welcome, or even want, a suit from him des
pite her unwillingness to wed? And did he want to chance officially courting her? Not knowing what else to do, he offered his arm, and when she laid her hand upon his sleeve, he guided her from their private sanctuary.
“I’m not always a harsh, grumpy man,” he finally said for the mere fact he wanted to hear her speak again.
“I’m certain you are not—once you forget all the things you try so hard not to do. Although, I’ve never seen you in a full temper so I don’t have proof.” She patted his arm. “What’s more, you might be quite adept at enjoying life once you concentrate on it. Don’t worry about who you’re trying not to be. Live for who you are now. The rest will work itself out. Change is a constant effort.”
“Perhaps.” Did three kisses, a near ruination and a tentative truce mean she welcomed an overture, and if she did, did he wish the flirtation take a serious bent? Too many damned doubts and questions. He should have thrown himself on the Marriage Mart long ago for now he was too old for such insecurity.
The moment they came in sight of the house, Alexandra intercepted them midway on the snow-covered lawn. “There you are, Nathan. I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”
“You knew well enough where I was I’ll wager.” He hated that his sister took such an ownership of him, especially since it was only for her own gain. “You never let me far from your sight.”
“I’ve had a letter from Lady Sophia.” She waved a piece of stationery in the air with a smile on her face. “She wishes to see you upon your return to London.” Alexandra slid a sly gaze to Charlotte. “The lady is most anxious to renew her acquaintance with Nathan as they are nearly at an arrangement, you see.”
“Is that so?” Charlotte pulled away. She glanced into his face. “You are spoken for?” Disappointment rang in her voice. Annoyance sparked in her expressive eyes.
“Nothing has been confirmed.” Devil take it, how to explain without looking like a damned fool? “Er, I mean to say I haven’t spoken for her. I had no intention—”
To Bed or to Wed Page 6
