Dear Diary,
I always used to love solitude. It's odd
how quickly one can change one's mind.
Now I miss having someone beside me
in bed at night.
"He's already left for London?" Mrs Grey repeated with an incredulous shake of her head. "When?"
"During the night." Angel stared down at the teacup in her hands. It was embarrassing to think she had angered Nathaniel enough to make him leave his own house in the middle of the night. Her fingers tightened around the cup. But her own anger had been justified. He had lied to her. Used her vulnerable position to gain the thing he had apparently always wanted: her in his bed.
"Has he gone mad? Leave in the middle of the night." Mrs Grey tutted. "Why would he do such a foolish thing?"
Not willing to meet anyone's eyes, Angel focused on stirring her tea as she mumbled, "We had an argument."
The older woman was silent for a moment, and then she sighed. "That foolish boy and his temper. Always gets him in trouble."
Silence settled over the breakfast table where the family had gathered to eat, no one wanting to ask any further details. Or, almost no one. Nick leaned forward, her elbows on the table, and her green eyes alight with interest.
"What did you argue about?" she asked. "I argue with Nathaniel all the time, and he's never left for London afterwards. You must tell me your secret."
Angel choked back a desperate laugh. Sending him packing for London hadn't exactly been her plan. She wasn't sure what her plan had been, but not that. Now that she had calmed down, she found that despite her feelings of betrayal, she still missed him. Maybe they could have discussed things in a more orderly manner if they had waited until their tempers weren't running high. They were married, no matter the reasons why, and they would have to make the best of it.
"I think that is between Angel and Nathaniel," Mrs Grey said. "Finish your meal and then you can go outside to read in the garden. The weather is lovely."
"But—" Nick stopped short when her aunt gave her a stern look. "Very well then," she finished grudgingly.
After breakfast, Mrs Grey brought Angel to the morning room where they sat down on the sofa while Jessica took the younger girls outside. Jessica wasn't too happy about being excluded but had done as her aunt asked. Once alone, Mrs Grey gave Angel's hands a reassuring pat.
"Are you all right?" she asked. "Would you like to talk about it? I may not be his mother, but I know my nephew quite well."
A smile tugged at the corners of Angel's mouth. "I am certain you do. It was a silly argument, and we were both too upset to think clearly. I overheard him and Wortham talking in the library, and Nathaniel admitted to marrying me so he could..." She trailed off, her cheeks heating.
"Yes?" Mrs Grey prodded gently.
"So he could bed me," she finished in a whisper.
Mrs Grey inhaled deeply. "Did he now?" She shook her head. "I hope you did not believe him."
"I... I did." The words still rang in her head and were difficult to deny. "I know he doesn't love me, but I thought he married me to save my reputation. Hearing this was quite a shock. But maybe it's better—" A brittle laugh escaped her. "If he truly married me to have me in his bed, at least that means he cares in some way, rather than just seeing me as some damsel in distress that needs saving."
"My dear girl." Mrs Grey smiled gently. "Nathaniel definitely didn't marry you for either of those reasons. Whether they were small parts of his decision, I cannot say. The saving your reputation probably was, that sounds like something he would do. But it is obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together that he cares for you."
Angel nodded slowly as she took in the older woman's words.
"I will check on the girls outside." Mrs Grey stood. "I hope they have not decided to re-decorate the garden again. It took me an entire week to get it back in order last time."
After a quick hug, she left Angel alone. Sitting back, she sighed. She couldn't understand why Nathaniel had said such an awful thing if it wasn't true. Had she somehow misunderstood? It seemed unlikely, but Mrs Grey had a point. If she thought about it, Nathaniel always paid attention to her needs and tried to make her laugh or feel at ease if her shyness made her want to hide. He showed he cared for her in so many ways even if he never said the words. Maybe his love was out of her reach, but they could make their marriage work. She loved him enough for both of them.
Shifting on the sofa, she caught sight of a small tabby kitten playing with a piece of paper on the floor. Scooping the little creature up, she lifted it to her face and buried her nose in its soft fur. The kitten purred and moved its head closer, butting against her nose. She smiled, putting it in her lap.
"What do you think?" she asked it quietly, not that she expected an answer. The kitten, sure enough, paid little heed to her words but purred rather loudly for something so small as she scratched it behind the ears. "Is it enough to build a marriage on?"
Again, the kitten didn't answer. Angel sighed and looked out the window to the gardens. The Howertys were all outside, and she saw Rain chasing Nick around with a watering pot, drenching her dress in the murky water. The sight made her smile. If nothing else, she had gained a wonderful new family. Now, if only she could make her husband love her.
Nathaniel took a sip from a glass of punch as he watched the guests gathered at the ball his friends had dragged him to, wishing he were somewhere else entirely. Preferably back at Davenhall with his wife. Being in London without her didn't feel right. Having left her the way he did, felt... Well, he felt like an ogre. An ogre having a temper tantrum. She had every right to be angry and disappointed in him after hearing him say such a thing.
It wasn't even true. Three days away from Angel was all he needed to realise he hadn't married her to save her. Or to bed her. Though he thoroughly enjoyed the latter. He had married her because he wanted her in his life. Which was exactly what he needed to tell her. And he probably ought to grovel since he had not handled their argument well at all. He had been upset that she could think so lowly of him, but how could she not when she heard him say it? And Wortham was right. He had given her no reason to think otherwise.
He wrinkled his nose in distaste. It felt wrong to think that Wortham was correct about anything—even if his friend was more often than not. Another annoying habit of his.
"What's with the scowling? You're scaring the ladies away."
Nathaniel smiled grimly as the very person he'd been thinking of materialised as if summoned. Speak of the devil...
"Just realising I've been an arse," he said.
"Finally. I was beginning to think I might have to remind you again." Wortham grinned. "So, what are you planning to do?"
"I don't know. Apologise profusely, I suppose."
"Why not just tell her you love her?"
Nathaniel choked on his punch and coughed. "Have we not recently had this discussion?"
"We have." Wortham gave him a knowing look. "I'm just never satisfied with your response. How long are you planning on deluding yourself?"
"I..." He fell silent.
Taking the opportunity, Wortham continued. "Look," he said, sounding almost as if he was explaining something to a child. "I don't pretend to know much about love. Lord knows I never loved anyone other than myself and no one has ever loved me. But what I do know is that it's not something you get to decide. It just happens. Whether you want it to or not."
"I didn't know you were such a romantic."
Wortham snorted at the obvious sarcasm. "All I'm saying is that you either love the chit or you don't. It's not a choice. If you were to fall apart at losing her, whether you've admitted those feelings aloud hardly matters."
With those words, his friend moved away, smiling charmingly at a group of young debutantes who had been looking admiringly in their direction. Nathaniel stared after him, lips pressed together. Damn. He really hated it when Wortham was right.
It was late when Nathaniel arrived at Davenhall the following day. He had travelled since early morning, wanting to make the trip in one day, and while he was tired, he wanted nothing more than to see Angel. Maybe he should have waited for Parliament to break up for the summer, but the need to apologise to his wife and make everything right was stronger than even his dutiful spirit.
Taking the steps two at a time, he ascended the stairs to the first floor. A light shone under the door to the upstairs drawing room, so he peeked inside. Jessica looked up from her book, where she sat on a sofa next to a lit candle.
"Nathaniel!" She smiled. "We did not expect you back so soon."
"I came early." He cleared his throat, not wanting to seem rude, but unwilling to waste time. "Has Angel retired for the night?"
"Yes, everyone has. She might still be awake. I believe she was planning to have a bath."
He nodded. "Thank you. I will see you in the morning."
"Good night."
Closing the door behind him, he continued down the hallway to the master bedroom. He stopped outside for a moment, hesitating. What if she didn't want to see him? They hadn't left things on the best of terms. Swallowing, he knocked carefully.
"Angel?" he called out, trying not to wake anyone else. Silence. She might be asleep. Leaning closer to the door, he listened but couldn't hear anything from inside.
He hoped he wouldn't be met with something lobbed at his head as he opened the door and stepped inside. The room was empty, the window open to let in a faint breeze. There was no one in the bed, but there was a tub filled with bathwater in front of the fireplace, and a damp towel on a stool next to it. So Angel had finished her bath but had not gone to bed. He frowned. Where could she be?
After checking the adjoining chamber, he returned to the bedroom with a growing feeling of unease. He was just about to leave when his eyes caught a piece of paper lying on the unused covers of the bed. Picking up the note, he fought back the niggle of fear at the back of his neck as he quickly scanned the scribbled words.
Pensington, I've got your wife. The two of you ruined my life, and you owe me. Pay me 10,000 pounds or you will never see her alive again.
He crumpled the paper in his hand just as Jessica walked past the open door to the hallway on her way to her room. Stopping when she noticed he was alone, she came inside. "Nathaniel? What's the matter?"
"Chettisham," he grit out. "He's taken Angel."
Jessica's face paled and her eyes widened. "What?"
With no time to spare, he didn't answer the question, his feet already moving him out the door. "How long ago did she go to her room?" he asked over his shoulder.
Jessica's footsteps followed closely behind him. "Not too long ago."
"Good. They might not be too far ahead. It looks as if she had a bath first, so maybe they recently left." He hurried his steps. "I must rouse the footmen and make pursuit."
"But you don't know where they're going!"
"Towards London is the only logical direction. If he believes I will pay him, he will need to leave the country shortly after."
Jessica made a noise behind him he could only interpret as alarm. "Please be careful out there," she said. "It's dark and the roads are still muddy after two days of rain. Today has not been enough to dry it."
"I must follow, Jessica." He looked at her over his shoulder, and the anguish he felt was mirrored in the strained lines of her face.
"I know," she said. "All I ask is that you're careful. We have lost enough members of this family already."
He nodded tersely. "Agreed. And Angel is one of us now."
~~~~~~