Nathaniel was on his way to the library, which also served as his study when he heard steps following him down the hallway.
"Do you have any designs on my friend?"
Stopping dead in his tracks, he turned around to face his younger sister. "What are you talking about?"
"Angel and the way you were looking at her." Jessica crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him as if he was a naughty schoolboy.
"I don't know what you're talking about." It sounded false, even to him, and his sister was no fool.
"Ha!" she scoffed, and taking him by the arm, she dragged him into the library, where she closed the door behind them. This did nothing to make him feel less like a schoolboy about to be scolded. "You do have feelings for her!"
"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped. "She's the sister of one of my best friends."
"That's a terrible excuse," Jessica muttered. "Who someone is related to or friends with has no bearing on how you feel about them. And you were staring at her."
"Jessica." He sighed. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I am not blind. Angel is pretty. I'm a man. Surely you didn't expect me not to notice?"
And he certainly had noticed. Angel Grafton wasn't someone who turned heads. With her pale skin and blonde hair, she easily blended into the background, especially when wearing light or muted colours. Or hiding behind potted plants. But if one paid attention and actually saw her... She was quite beautiful. And once you noticed, it was impossible to ignore. Even if he wished he could. It wasn't as if he wanted to be attracted to his friend's sister.
"Of course not."
"And even if I took an interest—" He held a hand up as Jessica opened her mouth to say something. "And I'm not saying I have. But even then, I would never act upon it. She's Gowthorpe's sister and, as such, I would never think to touch her. The kind of girl you marry, and I'm of no such inclination."
His sister looked him straight in the eyes. "Good. Because Angel has become a dear friend to me and I will not allow anyone to hurt her. That includes my own brother."
"Your protectiveness of your friend is commendable but misguided." He smiled wryly. "She's a sweet girl, and that's all. You don't touch your friend's sisters."
"I suppose Nick has no chance with Gowthorpe, then?" Jessica grinned.
He chuckled. "I believe our sister has decided on that match more out of stubbornness than genuine interest in Gowthorpe. That said, I would probably kill any of my friends if they were to touch one of my sisters," he admitted sincerely. They might frustrate him on a daily basis, but he loved his sisters fiercely and would defend their honour until his dying breath.
Jessica laughed then but didn't meet his eyes. "Well, that's settled then."
With that, she finally left him alone. He stared at the closed door with a frown. It was disconcerting to see that his sister had noticed him looking at Angel. What he told her was true. More or less. He would never court Angel. Marriage was not something he was ready for, and she was definitely someone you had to marry. He would never touch her or risk her reputation. But that didn't mean he didn't want to. It frustrated him how attracted he was to her.
When he finally settled down to marry, he had no intention of marrying someone he cared for. He had seen first-hand how devastating love could be, and he wanted none of it. He imagined he would settle down with some pleasant-enough chit that he could stand to be around enough to sire some heirs. But romance and love? No, he'd have none of that. And that was exactly why he would stay away from Angel. Because she interested him too much already, and the idea of coming to truly care for someone terrified him. He never wanted to end up like his father.
Walking over to his desk, he pulled out a drawer and retrieved a glass and a bottle of brandy. Seating himself in his comfortable old chair, he poured himself a drink and leaned back to sip it. It didn't matter if he found Angel attractive. She was meant to marry Philip Chettisham. Though that seemed like a bloody waste. Chettisham wasn't fit to kiss the hem of her dress. But if Chettisham was who Angel wanted, then Nathaniel certainly would not stand in their way.
A discreet knock on the door, and Aunt Jane entered. After closing the door behind her, she sat down on the chair on the opposite side of the desk, giving his brandy glass a look, but made no mention of it.
"So what brings me the honour of your company?" he asked when she said nothing. "You never disturb me in the library unless you have something you wish to discuss. I doubt you're here to judge me for having a glass of brandy."
His aunt gave him an odd look he couldn't quite read. "It's about Angel."
He groaned. "Et tu, Brute?"
"Too?"
"Jessica was in here earlier warning me to stay away from her friend," he muttered, draining his glass and immediately refilling it. Lord save him from meddling women.
"And?"
"And what?" His aunt's one-word questions were grating on his already frayed nerves.
She sighed. At least he thought it was a sigh. It could equally be a frustrated huff. "What did you tell her?"
"That she has nothing to worry about, of course. I have no designs on Angel Grafton."
"No?" His aunt's knowing gaze searched his face and he could not meet her eyes.
"Why is everyone insisting that I have an interest in this girl?" Exasperation and irritation mingled in his voice.
"Probably because you look at her as if she's some delectable dessert that you wish to devour," Aunt Jane replied dryly.
He stared at her.
"Well, you do."
"She's a beautiful woman."
"There are many beautiful women out there, Nathaniel. I've never seen you look at any of them the way you look at this one."
"Maybe it's because I can't have her?" he suggested, then added in an annoyed tone when the words struck too close to home, "I don't know, but rest assured that I have no intention of seducing an innocent. I'm no rake."
"Of course. I would never think that of you," Aunt Jane said softly. "But she's a lovely girl and mistakes have been made with less."
"I can assure you, Madam," Nathaniel said, his words clipped. "That I am a fully grown man and have no problems controlling any urges where young ladies are concerned."
"I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about her."
He blinked, his anger evaporating like water on a hot plate. "Pardon?"
"Well..." Aunt Jane hedged. "You're an attractive man. You know this. Women are always chasing after you. They always have. What if she falls in love with you?"
"She has no reason to." He frowned. "I am not courting her or encouraging her if that's what you're worried about."
"That's the thing. You don't have to encourage anyone. They fall for you anyway because of your natural charm."
"Don't be ridiculous." The tips of his ears felt hot as embarrassment washed over him at her words. He knew women found him attractive, but no one had ever stated it quite so plainly before. "Besides, Angel is practically betrothed to Philip Chettisham."
"Oh, I didn't know about this." Aunt Jane's eyebrows rose. "She's never mentioned it. But that's good then. Maybe I'm imagining things. I simply know how charming you can be and I have yet to see a young lady spend more than a quarter of an hour in your company without fancying herself in love with you."
He scoffed. "Angel is far too sensible to take a fancy to a man she barely knows." He wasn't entirely sure if he was trying to convince himself or his aunt at this point. Because they had spent a fair bit of time together in the past fortnight, and he certainly did not think of her as a stranger.
"You're right." Aunt Jane smiled. "I don't know what made me worry. She has shown no inclination to fall at your feet at the barest hint of a smile."
"Go away," he said, but smiled. "You're embarrassing me. I do not make young ladies swoon at the sight of me."
"No, at the sight of your smile," she replied with a wink, then left the library.
For the second time, Nathaniel was left staring at the closed door. What was it with his female relatives and their meddling?
~~~~~~