“Precisely.”
“Why?”
For a long moment, those dark brown eyes looked into his and a part of Nathanial felt as though she were looking inside of him to his core. It felt like a touch, as though she had reached out and placed her hand upon his arm.
But she hadn’t.
Miss Palmer simply stood there, an arm’s length away, her hands resting on the balustrade at her back. “Why not?” was all she said, a soft smile playing across her features.
Nathanial straightened and took a step back. “I don’t need a friend.”
“Everyone needs a friend,” she objected before she pushed off the balustrade, closing the distance he was wielding like a weapon to hold her at bay. “Pierce told me—”
“Pierce?”
“Lord Markham,” she elaborated. “I believe he is a good friend of your brother’s.” She indicated a dark-haired man who stood across the terrace, trying his utmost not to stare at Becca’s cousin, Miss Hawkins, as she walked the lawns with her parents. “He told me what happened in Boston and—”
Nathanial gritted his teeth. “Apparently, the gossips work as efficiently here as they do in America.”
The expression on her face softened. “Do you intend to misunderstand me?” Her brows rose in challenge. “Is this your way of trying to frighten me away, Nathanial? Well, if it is, I might as well inform you here and now that it won’t work and save us both some time yet again.” As Nathanial made to step away, Miss Palmer moved to prevent it, her gaze seeking his. “You might not be in a place right now where you can admit that you need someone. I can understand that. I’ve been where you are.” She swallowed. “More than once.” Her chin rose. “But I came here to assure you that everything will be all right. I promise. Whether you believe it or not, whether you want it or not, you have a friend in me. You’re not alone. I simply wanted you to know that.” A warm smile played over her lips before she turned and walked away to the other side of the terrace where she addressed the dark-haired man, Lord Markham, who still stood staring down into the gardens.
Exhaling, Nathanial all but slumped back against the balustrade, his legs suddenly feeling rather unsteady. Never in his life had he met anyone like Miss Palmer.
So outspoken.
So honest.
So insistent.
Did she truly mean what she had said?
Watching her from afar, Nathanial wondered what she could be saying to Lord Markham for it seemed that he, too, was receiving an earful of advice. The dark-haired man, on the other hand, appeared grateful. The expression upon his face whispering of a man who was in the company of a confidante.
Someone he trusted.
Did she truly mean to be his friend?
Aside from Abigail, Nathanial had never been friends with a woman. Early on, he had been certain that Abigail was the one for him and so he had never mingled, never chatted with ladies in order to gauge their interest as well as his own. Only after Abigail had broken their engagement had Nathanial found that women had begun to eye him differently. They had batted their eyes at him, casting coy smiles and seductive glances.
Nathanial had been aware that, given his financial situation, he was considered somewhat of a catch to Boston’s ladies since Abigail had broken with him. The thought had always upset him for it had only ever spoken of superficial intentions, none that spoke to him in particular but rather to his purse. No one outside his family had ever truly cared about him, and now, after Abigail, Nathanial could not help but wonder if there was something…deficient about him.
Was there something wrong with him?
Or was it the world? Could it simply not be trusted?
Sighing, Nathanial almost flinched when Miss Palmer’s dark brown gaze collided with his own as she looked over her shoulder and found him watching her. Quickly, he dropped his gaze and spun back around, his eyes fixed on the green bushes a bit away. Indeed, a much safer image to observe.
I’ve decided to be that friend for you.
Her words echoed in his mind for they were the strangest words Nathanial had ever heard. People didn’t walk up to people they had never met before and declare themselves their friend, did they? Indeed, Miss Palmer appeared to be a most peculiar woman. In all likelihood, it would be best for him to keep his distance from her.
Still, a part of him knew very well that she was right. He needed a friend.
Desperately.
But her?
Nathanial sighed. In all likelihood, her words had been meant as a jest, a tease or had simply been said in a spur of the moment. In all likelihood, he would never see her again.
Nathanial was certain of it.
Chapter Eight
As Fate Would Have It…
“Promise me, you’ll stay,” Zach insisted, his hands a comforting weight upon Nathanial’s shoulders as he looked him in the eyes. “Promise me, you’ll not return to Boston just yet.”
Reading the concern in his brother’s voice, Nathanial nodded. “Very well. I promise.”
A relieved smile came to Zach’s face and he took a step back, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath. “I want you to be happy, and I truly believe that a fresh start would do you good.” A deep grin claimed his features as Becca entered the drawing room. “It’s done wonders for me.”
His wife’s green eyes glowed like emeralds as she took Zach’s outstretched hand and came to stand by his side. “Has he agreed?” she asked, then looked at Nathanial. “Are you staying?”
Clearing his throat, Nathanial nodded. “I am.” The words sounded hollow as he fought the urge to drop his gaze to the emerald ring upon his sister-in-law’s finger. It always drew his attention no matter how hard he tried to keep it fixed elsewhere. It felt like a voice deep within, whispering taunting words and drawing forth memories that twisted the knife still embedded in his heart in a most painful way. Would he never be able to rid himself of this anger? This bitterness? Or was this simply the man he was now?
“When are you leaving?” Nathanial asked in order to distract himself.
Becca smiled, utter joy dancing in her luminous eyes. “In a matter of days.” Her hands gripped her husband’s arm in eagerness. “I cannot wait.”
Zach laughed. “Neither can I.”
Nathanial felt his stomach roll, wishing he had foregone breakfast that morning. “What do you suggest I do in your absence?” he asked before the next wave of nausea could hit him. “Is there anything I can take care of? Any remodeling to oversee? Any plans to—?”
“Nothing of the kind,” Zach replied with a scoff. “You’re not here to work, Brother. You’re here to enjoy yourself.”
“Enjoy myself?” Nathanial echoed, no longer certain he knew what these words meant.
His brother laughed upon seeing a somewhat confused expression claim Nathanial’s features. “You’ve forgotten how to enjoy yourself?” He shook his head in disapproval, then exchanged one of those annoyingly meaningful glances with his wife. “I thought you might have and so I spoke to Lord Markham and asked him to show you around London.” Nathanial opened his mouth to object, but his brother pushed on. “He is a good friend of mine, someone I trust completely. He may go about certain things in a rather unusual way, but he’s always been there when I needed him.”