Page 28 of To Have & To Hold

Nathaniel sighed heavily, both hands now scrubbing down his face. The sooner he gave her the answer she was looking for, the sooner they could never speak of this again.

“Not that it is your concern, but I decided that it would be…that I would not….”Blast. When had he become such a bumbling fool?

“Everything has happened very suddenly, and I do not wish to add to her discomfort regarding our arrangement.” He finally found the words.

Charlotte simply stared at him in silence, regarding everything he said as though she were trying to find a flaw in it.

“That is very honorable of you, Nathaniel,” she said at last.

“Thank you.” Nathaniel relaxed in his seat.

“Did you tell her that?”

“No,” Nathaniel groaned. “I worried it would be an uncomfortable conversation.”

“More so than this one?” Charlotte chuckled.

His eyes narrowed on his sister, though he knew it would have no effect on her. “I would have preferred to have not had this one either.”

Charlotte hummed, drumming her fingers against the arm of her chair, deep in thought. “Did it occur to you, that by not going to her, and by not telling her your reasons, she may see it as less of a noble gesture and more of a rejection?”

Nathaniel had not considered that. He hadn’t considered much that day, beyond his own tremulous emotions. He had never felt so out of control and uncertain.

“She might be upstairs right now, thinking that you feel nothing but regret,” Charlotte continued. “That you have done your duty by making her your wife, and now you want nothing more to do with her.”

Nathaniel lowered his gaze back to the papers he had been reading, but nothing made sense anymore. He had noticed the way Emilia’s knees had nearly given way when he spoke his vows. He had wanted to give her space to adjust to her new life,but in doing so, he had left her alone, isolating her in an unfamiliar place.

“I will leave you to ponder my wisdom,” Charlotte said with a smirk before she left him sitting in the dark of the fading fire.

Nathaniel stared into the cold hearth. He rubbed a hand over his face, a slight growl escaping from his throat. He hated admitting that Charlotte was right, and he would certainly never admit it to her, but he could not shake the feeling that he had made a very grave mistake by not putting forth more effort to have this conversation with Emilia—quite frankly, he had made a mistake by not attempting to have any conversation with her.

It was not that he disliked her—it was rare that Nathaniel disliked anybody. He was indifferent towards most people, tolerated a few, and genuinely liked even fewer—but he rarely put forth the energy required to actually dislike people.

In the case of the woman he married, there was a rare sort of curiosity that she elicited from him. One that made him want to understand what went on in her mind, why she constantly refused assistance when she clearly needed it, and why she held so many emotions close beneath the surface but never let her full feelings show. He wanted to know her, he wanted to like her, but the last time he had felt that pull towards someone, they had decided he was not worth knowing in return.

Nathaniel slammed shut the covers of the ledgers and rose from his desk. Emilia may not have chosen him, but she was tied to him for life. She did not deserve a life with a husband who ignored her. He had proposed to her a cordial relationship and mutual respect—what respect could she muster for the man who had forced her into a marriage and then abandoned her mere hours after their vows?

He ascended the stairs, making his way down the hall to his chambers. The house was quiet, so Charlotte must have returned to her own rooms. He stopped for a moment outside of Emilia’s door, searching for any signs of light or movement from inside, but it was as still and quiet as the rest of the house.

Nathaniel entered his chambers, the only light coming from the full moon shining in through the windows. The bed had been turned down hours ago, and the fire in the hearth had long gone cold, but a small spark of a plan began to form in his mind.

He was unsure how—or if she would even be accepting of the idea—but Nathaniel was determined to become friends with his wife.

Chapter Ten

Nathaniel’s hand froze, suspended in the air, as the door in front of him swung open before he could even knock. Emilia stared at him in shock, her eyes widening when she saw the fist that he held only a few inches from where her face now was. He quickly lowered his hand, every word of his carefully planned-out speech left his mind the moment she opened the door.

Every time he had seen Emilia, he couldn’t help but regard how pretty she was. Even dripping in river water, there was no hiding her delicate features and the striking contrast of her complexion with the depth of color in her eyes and hair.

Yesterday she had been a vision in a simple gown of ivory silk and lace—but standing here with the early morning lightcascading over her shoulders from the windows behind her, she was simply breathtaking.

“Your Grace?”

Her eyes turned from shock to concern, and Nathaniel realized that he was staring at her. He exhaled, forcing his shoulders to relax, and smiled as convincingly as he could. The more one trained their body to portray ease, the better chance the mind would start to believe it as well.

“Good Morning, Emilia.” His voice sounded forced even to his own ears. “I trust you slept well.”

“I did.” She returned his smile with one of her own, though she still regarded him with the slightest sense of unease.