An Arrangement of Sorts (11 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Connolly

BOOK: An Arrangement of Sorts
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That troubled her, he could see, but she nodded slowly. “I can try, I suppose.”

He continued to watch her for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Now, if I remember correctly, you wished to know how I came to discover that I could sneak up on a bird.”

She turned to him with a grin. “Yes, indeed. I have been thinking it over, and I can’t see how it can be done.”

“Well, it’s not easily accomplished, that is for certain,” he told her, enjoying the opportunity to share something amusing from his past instead of fighting with her. “And it all started with my friend Colin, who prides himself on being rather mischievous and sly…”

Not much further down the road, they came to a small village with a coaching station, and they opted to stop there for a meal. Moira insisted on paying, which made Nathan grumble, but considering what she thought of his finances, he did not have much of a choice. The meal was rather hearty, but soon enough they decided to depart again. There was not much to be gained from this place, and they would certainly have better luck when they stopped for the evening. Proceeding out of the building, Nathan was shocked to find Moira standing beside Flora and looking at him expectantly.

“What is this?” he asked with a smile.

“I have decided to attempt to be ladylike,” she said simply. “If for no other reason than to make you feel useful.”

He laughed. “Well, my pride thanks you.” He formed a lattice with his fingers and bent down slightly. “Set your foot upon my hands.”

She did so, looking rather dubious.

“Oh, come now, Moira, how did you manage getting on a horse without help before?” he chided with a smile.

“There was a stool I stood upon,” she said with a shrug. “It was very simple.”

“So is this,” he replied as he easily helped her onto Flora’s back.

“Well,” she said, looking a touch surprised, “so it is. That was very easily done, wasn’t it?”

“Very,” he agreed as he situated himself upon Mercury’s back. “And not limiting to your independence?”

She shook her head. “Not a bit. Had I the fortune to be taller than I am, I would not have needed you at all.”

He rolled his eyes and turned Mercury away from the station to continue down the road. “You have entirely missed the point, Moira.”

“I have not!” she cried as she caught up. “You played the gentleman very well, thank you for helping me onto my horse. I have the ability to do it myself, but it was much faster and more expedient to have you assist. In the future, I will allow you to continue the same. Fair enough?”

He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “Fair enough. Now, I think there is something you can do for me.”

“Oh dear. What is that?”

He grinned at her. “I think you need to prove to me that you can whistle like a man.”

She blushed slightly, but smiled. “Flora won’t like it.”

He looked down at the horse, who appeared as though she would not care at all. “I don’t think she will mind just once.” He peered back to Moira. “Unless, of course, you were not being truthful and you can’t whistle at all.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he grinned mischievously at her. She shook her head and sighed, then placed her fingers in her mouth and let out the loudest, most piercing whistle he had ever heard in his entire life.

He laughed at her embarrassment, but more so at her skill. “Rather impressive, Moira,” he said, clapping his hands and still chuckling. “I haven’t heard any whistle as loud as that, from man or woman. How did you learn?”

“One of the neighbors taught me when I was a child,” she said, smiling faintly. “He raised cattle and it was the only way to get them in at night. I was curious, so asked how he did it. He was more than pleased to teach me. My aunt was mortified.”

“I bet she was,” he said with a laugh. “She sounds as if a great many things mortified her.”

“They did,” Moira muttered darkly, not smiling any longer.

Nathan’s urge to laugh had faded at her expression. Something had happened to this woman to cause such pain at a simple recollection. There was something deeper, and darker, at work here. He didn’t know if she would ever want to open up about it. Not that he blamed her; he had enough horrors in his past to appreciate privacy. But he felt himself wanting to take away the hurt he sensed in her.

Suddenly, Moira turned to him, her face determined to look composed. “So you have told me about some of your friends so far. I know about Derek, who is secretly very amusing and is married to a woman that makes him unhappy, and Colin, who likes to pretend that he is clever and charming and considers himself the leader. There were two other men with you. Who are they?”

Nathan smiled at her attempt to change the subject, but he was more than happy to discuss his friends. “The first is Geoffrey. He is one of the most genuinely nice persons I have ever met, but don’t be deceived by it. He has a wicked sense of timing and is actually quite devious, but no one suspects him as he appears to be so very innocent.”

“Geoffrey: very nice, but devious and not as innocent as he looks,” she repeated as if committing it to memory.

He chuckled, but did not comment. “Then there is Duncan. He is an oaf, but a surprisingly well-dressed one. And the kindest oaf there ever was.”

Moira snickered. “Now what in heaven’s name does
that
mean?”

Nathan smirked fondly. “Duncan takes a great deal of pride in his appearance. It makes him a little bit of a dandy, but he would deny that emphatically. He declares it is merely an interest in looking his best at all times. But he is more than willing to help any soul he comes across however he is dressed at the time, whether they be a carriage stuck in the mud or a lost child.” As a matter of fact, Nathan had seen him do both of those things, and on both occasions he was quite fashionably dressed.

“So how is he an oaf?” Moira asked, confused.

Nathan gave her a look. “Have you ever seen a raging bull?”

“Of course.”

He nodded. “That is what Duncan looks like.”

Now she laughed out loud, and Nathan did as well.

“You cannot ever tell them this is how I describe them,” he warned her, still chuckling. “They would flay me alive and coat me in honey.”

“Oh, I never shall, if ever I meet them,” she promised. Then she grinned. “Unless I can see no other way to blackmail you.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

She shrugged. “You never know. A girl has got to be prepared for all eventualities.”

Nathan shook his head, still smiling. “I shouldn’t be surprised, I know, but I am.”

“That may be the most concise
,
yet correct
,
estimation of my character I have heard yet,” Moira quipped, looking mildly impressed and more than a little proud.

“What of your friends?” Nathan asked, feeling rather curious about the adventures of young Moira.

Her smile faded and she shrugged. “I have none.”

That took him completely by surprise, and he knew he could not hide it. “Surely you have some friends. You must have some from when you were a child, at the very least.”

She shook her head, unwilling to meet his eyes. “Charles was the only person near my own age who would have conversation with me beyond what is polite. I came to live with my aunt when I was eight years old and she was not exactly well liked in the village. It was rare for us to leave our own garden. And when we did, it was difficult for me to relate with the other children, and none seemed anxious to try. It was… a lonely time for me.”

Nathan could not think of anything to say. No wonder she had been so keen to make friends with him when he had offered, and no wonder
she had
been so drawn to Charles Allenford.

“What happened to you, Moira?” he murmured, half hoping she wouldn’t hear him.

She would not meet his eyes. “Pass,” she whispered.

Despite his anxieties, Nathan left the matter alone. But he watched Moira carefully until the shadows were gone once more.

“I cannot believe you are making me wear a bonnet.”

Nathan tried not to laugh, he really did, but Moira’s morose tone, combined with the triviality of the topic and the sudden downpour of rain made for quite the humorous situation. He could not hide the laughter that shook his frame as he tried to keep quiet about it, and received a vicious glare from his riding companion.

“And now you are laughing at me!” she accused in indignation. She huffed and adjusted herself in the saddle. “Some husband you are,” she muttered under her breath.

Nathan grinned, unable to help himself. “Come now, Moira, we are almost to the inn and you did say that it would be my turn to speak for us. Mr. and Mrs. Granger have come a very long way, and Mr. Granger is the type of man whose wife wears a bonnet in the rain.”

“I do not care for this Mr. Granger at all.”

“You had better forget that in the next few minutes,” he said with no small amount of warning in his smile, “or we will both be out of a place to sleep tonight.”

She made a small noise of protest but said nothing further.

They arrived at the small, but comfortable looking inn and Nathan was quick to dismount and head over to Moira. She glared daggers at him, but at his look, she allowed him to help her down. He set his hands on her tiny waist and lifted her down, still surprised by how light she was. And by the warmth he felt under his fingertips. Quickly, he removed his hands and turned, taking hold of her arm and placing a hand at the small of her back.

“Now be quiet and look ill,” he hissed in her ear.

She glared at him, but nodded once.

He patted her on the back. “Good girl.”

He could almost hear her bite her tongue. He forced himself not to smile at that. She very grudgingly let him lead her into the inn. The room was maybe half full and the group was rather quiet, in stark contrast to their lodgings from the night before.

“Excuse me,” Nathan said pleasantly to the man behind a sturdy looking desk. “Are there rooms available for the night?”

“Why, yes, sir, there are,” the man replied with a warm smile. “Would you and your lady like to wait out the rain here?”

“Yes, we were hoping to,” Nathan said, pouring as much relief into his tone as he could muster. Then he stepped closer to the man and whispered, “My wife Celia is in delicate health, sir, and the rain does not help matters. Is there any way we can get a quiet room? Perhaps away from the rest?”

Moira was going to throttle him later, he could see it in her face, but for now, she merely coughed weakly into her handkerchief and looked miserable. She played the sickly wife rather well, he thought. The innkeeper looked her over with concern, and nodded swiftly.

“Of course, Mr.…?”

“Granger.”

“Yes, Mr. Granger, I will see what we can do. Let me call for my wife, and see if she can see Mrs. Granger situated with a warm bath and some fresh clothing while we have a lad bring in your bags.” He waved to a maid. “Lucy, go and get Mrs. Fletcher.”

The girl nodded and ran off, and Moira brightened considerably at the mention of a bath.

“Thank you, Mr. Fletcher, that is too generous,” Nathan said with a warm smile. He turned to Moira with a raised brow, and suddenly feared she would kick him in his shins. She handed him some coins from her purse and his eyes widened as he looked down at them. It was too much, nearly extravagant for such an establishment. His eyes met hers, questions written in them. She nodded and he shrugged, then handed them over to Fletcher.

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