An Arrangement of Sorts (29 page)

Moira nodded and slid off of Flora before he could come over and assist her. She took the reins and pulled the horse into a path of green grass near a large tree. Nathan followed with Mercury, then set the hobbles on the horses. He stood there watching them as they grazed, while Moira took a seat against the tree, watching him.

Where had their jovial friendship gone? She longed to make him laugh, or smile at the very least. But she did not know how. Suddenly she had lost her sense of humor and smiles were few and far between.

Nathan stood with his hands on his hips, strong and defiant, but his eyes and expression distant.  He suddenly let out a gust of air and went to rub down the horses.

From her position against the tree, Moira had an interesting view. Nathan brushed Mercury with ease and gentleness, murmuring softly to him. The flesh of the animal rippled in delight under his strong hands, and Moira found herself feeling a twinge of jealousy. The loving care and attention she was witnessing was once something that had been directed towards her, obviously in more appropriate ways. Though he stood perhaps only fifty feet away from her, Moira missed Nathan. She missed who she was with him. She missed who he was with her.

She missed them.

She had not spoken with him since his outburst, had not even attempted to. It was far too painful to pretend that this friendship of theirs could go on. And she greatly feared that if she spent too long with him, joking and teasing and laughing as they once had, he would see her feelings for him in her eyes.

No, she would sit here and watch him openly, averting her eyes if he should catch her. There was safety in awkwardness, and less risk of being hurt. Less danger altogether.

A soft smile played on his handsome face as he spoke to Mercury, and he rubbed the horse’s side in appreciation. He was so good with the animals, so gentle and caring, much the same as he was with people. Nathan was all that was good and right in the world, regardless of how low he thought himself.

Were he a man of high rank or fortune, the women would have flocked around him. Moira, for one, couldn’t believe they were not already doing so. She hoped he would find a woman good enough for him, one that would appreciate the full measure of the man she would be so fortunate as to spend her life with. One whose children she would bear and raise. Who would hold her in the night.

She swallowed back the flash of pain and jealousy and sighed. What was the use of thinking about Nathan’s future? It would only make things worse, and tempt that already fluttering part of her that was yearning to run full on at him and fling her body on his person, all the while crying, “Love me!” in the most pathetic of fashions.

But that little, stubborn part of her was contained for the time being. She had grown quite accustomed to restraining it, but much more of these quiet moments of reflection and she might need to do something drastic, like slap herself. That would certainly attract Nathan’s attention.

Flora, apparently not satisfied with being left out of Nathan’s ministrations, walked over to him, nudging his arm with her nose.
Clever girl
, Moira silently praised as Nathan laughed softly and turned to rub the horse’s nose, now speaking to her in those dulcet tones that Moira so envied.

Envious of horses? The idea would have been laughable if it were not so very sad, and so painfully true.

Nathan looked at her then, and instead of casting her eyes away as she meant to, she was helpless to resist the draw of the dark, mysterious depths of his gaze. He saw her watching him, and he stilled for only the briefest of moments, and then he smiled at her. A soft, gentle, warm smile in which she somehow found an apology, a reassurance, and an invitation all at once. Transfixed upon that smile as she was, she didn’t know if she could trust herself to go to him. Would she reveal everything with one look in those eyes? Would she find herself yet more tempted to toss everything to the wind and ride away with him?

The thought terrified her. She didn’t know if she could take any more vulnerability as far as Nathan Hammond was concerned. She was already so weak in that area.

He sensed her hesitation, and the smile deepened ever so slightly. Moira’s heart gave a little lurch in her chest and she considered again. What if it was the last moment they would have together? It was only a friendly gesture, a peace offering between them, a pleasant note on which to end.

How could she refuse such a thing?

She finally returned his smile and pushed to her feet. The flare of pleasure in his eyes immediately assured her that she had made the correct decision, if for no other reason than to prove to him that he was forgiven and she was still his friend. His happiness was all the reward she needed.

He handed her a brush and together they set to work on Flora, working silently, but with smiles. It was an odd sort of synchrony they shared as they worked, her stroke, then his, long and even against the warm skin of the horse. She would be lying if she did not admit that having Nathan so close was the sweetest kind of torment.

It would be so easy to turn around here and find herself in his arms, so easy to turn her head and brush her lips ever so softly across the stubble of that chiseled jaw. His scent enveloped her, taunted her, so strong at the moment that it was the most poignant of fragrances. The warmth of his body so near hers was a heady sensation, and she could only find peace in her mind by counting as high as she could as fast as she could. First in English. Then in French. Then back down again.

Aloof as to her current state of frenzy, Nathan switched direction and brushed towards Flora’s flanks, while Moira continued along the neck. A cool breeze drifted between them, and Moira’s mental count became slower as her sense began to return. She allowed herself a nearly silent sigh of relief and mentally congratulated herself on her success.

Just then, Nathan’s hand brushed against Moira’s, and ever so abruptly, the counting in her head came to a halt. She froze and looked at their hands, touching only by a small amount as they rested on the horse, and she felt Nathan still beside her. The sudden intensity of feeling was enough to take the breath out of her lungs and steal the warmth of her bones.

She was transfixed by their hands together, hers seeming frail and delicate next to his larger and more weathered one. She remembered the way his warm hands had tenderly enveloped hers, bringing her comfort with their strength; the way they had gently squeezed hers in consolation; the way that hand had brushed so softly against her cheek as he kissed her that night, leaving a delicious tingling sensation in its wake. Even now, her skin prickled with the memory of it.

Against her express wishes, her eyes turned to him, and found his trained on her, the power of them startling and disarming and dangerously alluring. A shaky breath caught in her throat and he heard it, those compelling eyes darting instantly to her lips. Suddenly, she felt the need to moisten them, but even her tongue could not move. He hardly breathed as he stared, then brought his eyes back up to hers. The torrent of emotions Moira was feeling was matched only by what she saw swirling in Nathan’s eyes.

Now it was her turn to look to his lips, parted slightly and so near. Those lips had changed everything for her. What would it be like to taste them again, in earnest this time? Unconsciously, she found herself pulled towards him, drawn in as if by magic. Her eyes met his again, and she found herself completely lost, and she could not even mind being so.

An irritated snort and scuffle of hooves from Flora broke the moment, and Moira hastily stepped back, severing the connection of their hands and averting her eyes instantly, her cheeks flaming. She rubbed an arm as if cold and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We should be going,” she said quietly, her voice not nearly as steady as she would have liked. “We need to reach Preston before dark.” She bit her lip, and chanced a brief glance up at him.

Nathan remained silent as he stood there, his hand still resting on Flora’s back. It still seemed as though he had yet to breathe, and his dark eyes, now unreadable, had yet to move from her face. After an eternity, he nodded, only once. Then he took two steps towards her, set his hands at her waist, and hoisted her up to Flora’s back as easily as if she were a child. So unexpected was his action that she barely had time to rest her hands on his shoulders before she was airborne. In the next instant, he was walking back over to Mercury, and her racing heart tried to remember its normal pace.

He mounted his horse, spoke softly to him, then nudged his heels in, and the horse moved forward. Not a word was said between them, and he did not look at her again after putting her up on Flora, but she had caught that look as his hands had been on her waist, that open, almost hungry look that spoke volumes.

He was not as settled as he would like her to think him.

He had some strong feelings towards her as well.

But what sort of feelings were they? She knew enough of the world to know that a man could be attracted to a woman without having any real attachment to her. She and Nathan were friends, but would he have been willing to throw that label aside and pick up anew, or was he merely acting on human impulses?

Moira realized that the point was moot as to his motivations. That moment between them had been a mistake, and one of her making. She had known better than to allow herself to be in such close proximity to him, knowing how he affected her, and still she had allowed it. Now instead of having a fond memory of two friends sharing a quiet moment of contentment, she would have a haunting remembrance of what almost was, what could have been, and what never would be.

Hot tears filled her eyes again as she stared at Nathan’s retreating back. She nudged Flora along, fighting for control. How she wished she knew what Nathan was thinking and how he was feeling. Perhaps if she did, her own sufferings would be lessened.

She would have been quite wrong. If anything, Nathan’s thoughts were more tormented, his heart more anguished. Letting go of Moira would be the worst thing that he had ever endured, or could ever in the future.

He did not know what would be left of him when she was gone.

C
hapter
S
ixteen

I
t was nearly full dark when they reached the outskirts of the city, and it was not a welcoming sight. The buildings, dark and looming in the limited light, were almost eerie and even the faint light of torches was not enough to comfort anyone. Moira rode a little more closely to Nathan, who had not spoken more than three words together since they had come nearer to their destination. Now his face was set in a sort of grim determination, but he could not help but feel a surge of satisfaction at her sudden nearness. She was as uneasy as he was, perhaps even more.

He forced a tight smile and looked over at her. “Not quite the tranquility of Gillam, is it?”

“Hardly,” she managed, looking around with no small amount of anxiety. “I’m sure it is not quite so imposing in the light of day.”

“I would not be so sure of that,” he replied, looking around with interest. “From what I have heard, this place will become quite the teeming town one day.”

“How are we ever going to find him?” Moira whispered as she looked around.

Nathan’s heart ached at Moira’s tone, but he covered it with a brave attempt at a carefree grin. “We have come all the way up from Hampshire without any real direction, and now you worry about finding him in one town?”

She gave him a look. “It is a rather large town, and there are many places a man can hide.”

“Ah, but you forget who you are with,” he said, his eyebrows quirking with a teasing suggestion.

It didn’t amuse her, for once, but instead made her tense and he detected a slight wince as she looked away. “No, I have not.”

Nathan cursed himself and gritted his teeth together. This was going to be even harder than he imagined if he couldn’t pretend things could still be jovial between them. All he had was his ability to cover emotions with jokes, and if even that would be taken from him, then he would be left with only sullenness and silence.

It had been an afternoon of emotional cacophony. First his resignation this morning about distancing himself from her, then lashing out at her in his frustration, then that brief, delightful moment of peace when he had actually managed to smile genuinely at her. He had been breathless with the anticipation as she read his invitation to join him. Then she had, and he exulted in his good fortune at being able to have one more moment with her near him, innocent though it may have been. Or perhaps not so innocent as he found himself blatantly trying to ignore the fact that she was so close he could smell the sweet perfume that was all her own. It would haunt his senses for many weeks to come.