Certain that there was nothing she could say to sway how he felt about her right here and now, Charlaine decided to be bold. “Come with me,” she whispered with a teasing smile and then looped her arm through his and pulled him along.
His body tensed, and she could feel his reluctance in the way he kept trying to fight her. However, short of digging in his heels, there was little he could do. It would seem she had caught him off guard, and Nathanial Caswell was a gentleman, nothing if not accommodating to a lady’s wishes.
To fight her, he would have to fight his own sense of right and wrong and he was not quite up to the task yet. Charlaine knew she was using his weakness against him. However, there would be no point in talking to him surrounded by the English ton.
Indeed, open words were needed, something the English upper crust seemed altogether incapable of.
“Where are we going?” Nathanial gritted out as she all but dragged him down the path and then made a turn that would no doubt lead them to a more solitary spot. Thick bushes grew into tall hedges, and the sounds of the ball began to dim as they moved onward.
Satisfied, Charlaine stopped, released his arm and turned to face him. “I’m so very sorry,” she said as her voice broke and her jaw began to quiver for she finally realized how much losing him would hurt her. “I’m so, so sorry. Please, forgive me.”
Chapter Fifteen
A Promise Given
Caught off guard for the second time that night, Nathanial stared at Miss Palmer.
Thick tears stood in her eyes and a slight tremor gripped her jaw as she held his gaze. Her arms had wrapped around herself, and her hands were gripping her upper arms with such force that Nathanial felt certain she would find bruises come morning.
His heart went out to her. Nathanial could not prevent that any more than he could prevent the sun from rising. Still, he willed himself to stand his ground, remembering the tears Abigail had cried upon finding herself betrayed by Lord Mortimer.
Back then, she, too, had apologized to Nathanial, voiced her regret and asked for his forgiveness. But it had only been regret for the disappointment of her own hopes, not for betraying him.
“Very well, I forgive you,” Nathanial said, his tone flat and emotionless. “May I leave now?” His brows rose in question, in challenge, in…curiosity. Would her tears be dried that easily? Or would she fight for more?
Abigail had not.
Miss Palmer drew in a slow breath, then quickly wiped at her tears. “I cannot believe I’m crying,” she whispered as a disbelieving chuckle escaped her lips. “I barely know you, and yet…” She drew in a deep breath and then stepped toward him. “Nathanial, I’m deeply sorry because I understand now how deeply I hurt you last night. I should have told you who I was, but…”
Nathanial knew he ought to leave, that it was foolish of him to stay and give her the chance to lie to him again. Still, his feet would not move. “Then why didn’t you? You knew who I was the moment you spoke to me, did you not?”
Miss Palmer nodded. “Pierce told me that you were accompanying him to the masquerade.” A smile teased her lips. “I instantly decided I needed to go as well and so I sent a message to Caroline, to Miss Hawkins.”
Leave! Now! His mind urged, afraid of the warmth that teased his heart at her words. And yet, Nathanial stayed. “Why?” he gritted out.
Her dark eyes lingered on his for a long moment. “Because I wanted to see you.”
Nathanial swallowed. “Why?” Suspicion rang in his voice, and yet, there was no reasonable foundation for it, or was there?
Of course, Nathanial had become aware of the whispers and stares that followed Miss Palmer whenever she made an appearance somewhere. It reminded him of his brother’s letters. As an American, Zach had not been welcomed into English society with open arms, either. Nathanial, too, felt their cautious looks on occasion, trying to gauge his worth, to determine whether or not he would fit into their midst.
The verdict on Miss Palmer’s exclusion, however, was definite and final. Was that why she was pursuing him? Was she hoping for a proposal, knowing an English gentleman would never dare make her his wife? Was that why she had kissed him?
Nathanial gritted his teeth, hating that the memory of their moment together was now tainted with betrayal and falsehood.
“What was her name?” Miss Palmer asked, something knowing lurking in her warm, brown gaze as she moved closer.
Nathanial swallowed, unsettled by the familiarity that had no right to linger between them. “Pardon me?”
“The woman you were to marry, what was her name?”
Shocked by her words, Nathanial felt his hands ball into fists. “Who told you?”
“Does it matter?”
Nathanial glared at her. “I’d appreciate it if you would refrain from addressing me in the future.” Then he made to stride past her.
Miss Palmer, however, stepped in his path. “I’m not her,” she told him, those dark eyes of hers once more looking at him as though they had known each other forever. “I did not betray you. Yes, I…withheld the truth, and I’m sorry for that.” When he opened his mouth to object, she lifted a hand to stop him. “I did nothing to warrant this kind of distrust. It was her, not me.”
Always had Nathanial been a reasonable man, and thus he could not fail to acknowledge that her words made sense. They also rang true. Still… “Why did you not tell me who you were?”
Her eyes moved and the expression upon her face changed, became more relaxed, relieved even. “When we first met at Pembroke Hall,” she began, her voice kind and companionable as though she truly were speaking to a friend, “you had that same distrust in your eyes I see tonight. But at the masquerade, when I came to your rescue, you…did not.” A slow smile teased her lips, and her eyes shone with open delight. “I could see that your heart was open, that you looked at me and wanted to see someone who cared. You cannot deny that you liked me last night.”
Indeed, Nathanial could not deny it. He had liked her, but would it be wise to admit to it? Would it not make him vulnerable? Give her power over him? After all, he still did not know why she was pursuing him so relentlessly? “I did…like you.” Nathanial was no man for falsehoods, not even in his own defense.
He never had been.
And he had paid for it dearly.
Still, a man needed to stand by his principles, did he not?
“Perhaps that made it worse,” Miss Palmer remarked, a thoughtful look upon her face. “You opened your heart…and now you feel betrayed again.” Sadness stood in her eyes. “It gives you reason to shut others out. But if you do, you’ll also never experience moments like last night.” The memory of their shared moment lingered upon her face, and Nathanial could not help but feel that she, too, savored it.
“Why did you not tell me?” he asked, afraid his heart would open to her once again should he not give it reason enough to be cautious.
“I was afraid you would not speak to me if you knew who I was,” Miss Palmer replied without a moment’s hesitation. But did that mean she was being honest? The sad reality was that Nathanial no longer trusted himself to tell a lie from the truth. “I was afraid that you would turn around and walk away.”