At his brother’s words of praise, Nathanial tried to force an appreciative smile upon his face. Inside, however, he felt like putting his fist through Lord Markham’s face. Never in his life had Nathanial felt this kind of anger that now so often sought him out. Still, it was the knowledge that he was easily replaced in every capacity, as a fiancé, a friend, a brother.
Perhaps it was not the world that was wrong. Perhaps it was truly simply him.
*
A week had passed since the Pembroke’s wedding celebration, and Charlaine wondered how best to seek out Mr. Caswell. Or rather Nathanial. After all, friends should call each other by their given names, should they not?
“I believe I’ve done so already,” Charlaine mumbled to herself as she made to climb the stairs one evening, but stopped when she spotted Pierce, dressed to go out, heading downstairs toward her. “Where are you going?” He blinked, clearly lost in thought, before his eyes settled on hers. “You look quite dashing.”
Returning her smile, he held up two black masks. “A masquerade.”
Excitement snaked up and down Charlaine’s back, and she wished she could join him. “That sounds exciting! Are you going alone?” Perhaps he had plans to meet up with Caroline. It would be about time! As far as Charlaine knew, they had not spoken to each other since the day of the wedding celebration. What on earth could possibly be keeping them apart? Unfortunately, Pierce was rather tight-lipped about it.
Stepping down into the hall, Pierce turned toward the front door. “No, Pembroke asked me to take along his brother.”
Charlaine almost tripped over her feet. Nathanial at a masquerade? Granted, she had only met him once and spoken no more than a few words with the man, but still… “Does he know where you’re headed?” she asked carefully, doubting it very much.
Pierce chuckled as his footman, Jacob, helped him into his coat. “He does not.” Then he frowned, the look in his eyes slightly suspicious as he watched her. “Are you better acquainted with the man than I thought you were?”
“I spoke to him once as you well know since you were watching us.” Her brows rose in challenge.
Pierce rolled his eyes. “Guilty!” Then he strode toward the door.
Albert moved to open it. “Have a nice evening, my lord.”
Nodding, Pierce then paused in the open door, his gaze serious as he looked at Albert. “Thank you, and you know where to find me if anything important arises. Send for me immediately if you hear from the Bow Street Runners.” A dark cloud hung above his head as he spoke, and Charlaine hoped that all his inquiries would soon bear fruit and reveal further information about the night Daphne’s parents had been murdered.
Albert nodded solemnly. “Of course, my lord.”
Pushing away the dark thoughts, Pierce turned to her and placed a gentle peck on her forehead. It reminded her of Peter. “Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Smiling at him, Charlaine nodded. “You as well.” Without delay, her thoughts moved to the possibilities this night presented, and she could barely wait for Pierce to leave so she could decide how to proceed.
Unfortunately, her eagerness had to have sparked in her eyes for Pierce turned back to look at her, a frown drawing down his brows in something resembling suspicion. He had come to know her well. “Is something wrong?”
Charlaine shrugged with as little expression upon her face as she could. “Not that I know of.”
Pierce sighed. “Very well.” He clearly didn’t believe her. But he didn’t have the time to interrogate her further. Thank heavens for small mercies! “Have a good night.” Then he turned and headed down the steps to the carriage waiting by the curb.
As Albert closed the door, Charlaine turned to him. “Albert, we need to talk.”
There was no time to waste!
Chapter Nine
A Night of Freedom
Nathanial was aware that he had barely spoken a word ever since he had entered the carriage and sat down opposite Lord Markham. He kept wondering how the other man and his brother had come to know each other so well. Although Zach had told him how they had first met at a ball, how Markham had offered his help in locating their father’s ring, Nathanial could not shake the feeling that there was more to the story. Something his brother refused to share with him.
Could it be because of a lack of trust?
You’re being unfair, Nathanial chided himself silently. Still, the bitterness he had first noticed after Abigail’s betrayal was slowly leaking into every part of his life. If only Nathanial knew how to contain it.
Shifting in his seat, Lord Markham turned to look at him. Then his right hand moved and he held out a small, black object to Nathanial.
Frowning, Nathanial took it, feeling its soft, velvet surface. “What is this?” he asked as he turned the item in his hands. His eyes narrowed as he realized he was holding a mask. Frowning, he turned to look out the window. “Where are you going?” A dark sense of foreboding snaked down his back.
Lord Markham chuckled. “I’m afraid I’m taking you to a masquerade.”
Nathanial’s head whipped around. Never had he liked the loose morals that often went hand in hand with hidden identities. He’d had enough of lies and deceit to last him a lifetime.
“On your brother’s orders, I swear,” Lord Markham rushed to add, holding up his hands in appeasement.
Nathanial gritted his teeth. “I appreciate your efforts. However—”
“Why?” Lord Markham interrupted him, his dark eyes watchful.
Nathanial frowned. “Why what?”
“Why did you come to England?”
The pressure on his teeth increased, and Nathanial leaned back in his seat, trying his best to relax as Lord Markham’s question forced him to dredge up the past yet again. “I came to see my brother, to meet his wife, to wish them well.” With each word to pass his lips, Nathanial felt his jaw begin to ache a little more.
Lord Markham sighed. “Pembroke told me what happened.”
The words felt like a slap in the face. “He shouldn’t have,” Nathanial forced out through gritted teeth. Then he held out the mask to Lord Markham, who shook his head, refusing to take it.
“He’s a good friend, and he worries about you.”
“I know.”
“He asked me to help,” Lord Markham continued, “because he feared seeing him with his wife would only cause you distress.” Empathy rested in the man’s eyes as he spoke.
Unfortunately, his words brought forth an image of Zach and Becca, deliriously happy. Instantly, that ball of frustration and bitterness ignited in Nathanial’s stomach. “He’s right,” he muttered then, brushing a hand over his face as though hoping to wipe away the memory that kept taunting him. “I should return home,” he mumbled, then met Lord Markham’s gaze. “I apologize for—”
“There is no need. I understand the pain you must be going through and—”
“Do you?” Nathanial snapped the same way he had snapped at Miss Palmer a week ago. It seemed whenever he was lost in that abyss of bitterness and self-pity, he was not fit to be around people.
Like Miss Palmer, Lord Markham took no offense. “Perhaps I do not,” he admitted. “However, I do understand the fear of rejection.”