Bridget gave a short, derisive bark of laughter.
“No, of course you can’t. Don’t be foolish, Pippa. Whatdoyou think you’re there for?”
Chapter Twelve
Rose had been staring thoughtfully at him over the breakfast crockery for the whole meal. Nathan had done his best to ignore it, but it was becoming impossible.
“Why do I feel that you have something to say, Mother?” he enquired, pouring himself another cup of coffee. He didn’t have long to sit over his breakfast today. Lord Davenport was expecting him to go over some documents. It shouldn’t be a long visit, barely an hour or so. He imagined that Amanda and Lady Davenport would be out paying calls. Or so he hoped.
“Oh, can’t a mother look at her son as he eats breakfast?” Rose responded, sounding a little annoyed.
“Not with such intensity, no.”
She sighed. “Very well. When we left the garden party yesterday, I rather felt that you were… well, that you were upset.”
Nathan ran his tongue around his teeth before he answered.
“I know we left…promptly, but I rather thought you’d had enough. You said that garden parties always leave you too cold.”
“And so they do,” Rose responded. “But do not attempt to deceive me, my dear. I saw you take Miss Randall off for a walk, only to be interrupted by that irritating marquess. He practically raced after you to split you apart, and the three of them guarded that poor girl as she were buried treasure.”
Nathan swallowed thickly. He could still remember the frustration and mortification of being left, standing alone in the middle of the lawn, partner-less, as Lord Barwick and Miss Randall hurried away.
Miss Randall had disappeared into the house with her escort, along with her mother and the Dowager Lady Barwick. They hadn’t reappeared. When Nathan had gone into the house later, he found the four of them huddled in the parlour, with Lord Barwick and Miss Randall playing a game of chess.
Miss Randall had looked entirely miserable, and thoroughly bored. Lord Barwick was clearly having an excellent time, with a collection of Miss Randall’s pieces taken off the board and sitting beside him, clearly trophies. Nathan had peeped in through the door, heart thumping. As he watched, Lord Barwick gave a squawk of delight, sweeping up another piece.
“Aha! And there goes your queen, Miss Randall. You’ll struggle to play on without her, I can promise you that. After this, we ought to play another game, and I’ll show you a few tricks, how about that?”
Nathan had withdrawn after that, and gone to find his mother, informing her that he would like to leave.
For once, Rose hadn’t argued.
No, apparently, she’s saved all her troublesomeness for now.
“I don’t have the time nor the inclination to discuss this, Mother,” Nathan said, trying to sound stern. It did not quite stick.
“You can’t fool me, Nathan,” Rose responded, waving a teaspoon at him. “I can tell that you like the girl. Why not admit it?”
“Because it is only a passing acquaintance. I barely get the chance to talk to her. Her mother clearly does not approve. It’s clear that the family have chosen Lord Barwick for her, and I am not confident enough in her affection to me to try and elbow my way between them.”
Rose narrowed her eyes. “So, youdoadmit that she has affection for you, then?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I wish I knew. She’s… clever, and eloquent, and charming, and most obliging. I feel that she likes me, and enjoys my company, but does she like me more than other men? I could hardly say so.”
Rose considered this, pursing her lips. “She certainly likes you more than Lord Barwick.”
“That is not hard. Many women marry without the safety of affection.”
“And you think that Miss Randall is among them?”
That gave him pause. Did he truly believe that Miss Randall would marry a man she did not love, did not even care for?
Careful, fool,warned a voice at the back of his head.You don’t know her. How can you say either way?
Of course, Nathan did not answer sensibly. He hadn’t answered anything sensibly in quite a while, now.
