Page 46 of To Have & To Hold

Nathaniel shook his head, just as desperate to know the answer as Oliver seemed to be. “I do not know.”

“Do you believe that she somehow orchestrated this marriage to use your influence to pardon her brother, if he is in fact on the run?”

“No,” Nathaniel answered honestly. He had considered that, but the more he pondered the possibility, the less sense it made. If it were a case of trapping him in a marriage for his power and position, Lord Moorfield would have been much more eager.

“But you do think she is hiding something.”

Nathaniel’s chest tightened at Oliver’s question—someone was hiding something—whether it was Emilia or her uncle, he didn’t know, and he had not yet decided if he wanted to.

“I can not think at all,” Nathaniel admitted, rising from his chair to pace the room. “When I am around her, I can barely even breathe. I have tried to keep my distance, but every time she is in the room, I can not help but be drawn to her.”

Oliver’s concern slowly melted away. “I do not think anyone would fault you for that, Nathaniel. You married a very kind and lovely woman.”

Nathaniel leaned his hands against the hearth, his face lowered to the fire, desperate to feel anything but the chilling doubt that had begun to take root in his heart.

“Beware of the beautiful but deadly mermaid,” he muttered.

“What did you say?” Oliver asked, standing from his own chair.

“Nothing.” Nathaniel turned away, hoping that for once his friend would not push him for answers.

“You said mermaid.” Oliver followed as Nathaniel crossed the room to his desk.

“If you heard what I said, I fail to see why you asked.”

“To give you a chance to explain.” Oliver perched himself on the corner of the desk. “When you told me of your first encounter with Emilia, though quite eventful, you failed to mention the presence of fins when you pulled her from the Thames.”

“I am not suggesting that Emilia is a mermaid!”

Oliver’s arms crossed over his chest with a chuckle, “That at least is reassuring.”

Nathaniel turned to face the floor-to-ceiling shelves that covered the wall behind his desk, his eyes scanning the spines of the books that filled every inch of them. His gaze caught on the nearly worn-away title he had been looking for—The Odyssey. He turned and dropped it on the desk beside where Oliver was sitting.

Oliver’s eyes widened as he gestured to the book with a half-amused smirk. “Is this supposed to clarify?”

“Yes!” Nathaniel’s eyes frantically moved from shelf to shelf, noting each and every title that he had poured over as a young boy, waiting for his father to return home from sea—Purchas His Pilgrimes, A General History of the Pyrates, The History of Four-Footed Beasts and Serpents—every myth orlegend, every story recorded by sailors, soldiers, and explorers alike, he had memorized.

He didn’t believe them—not fully. He knew no captivating creatures were luring in the waters—whether sirens or mermaids—but that didn’t make him any less terrified.

“Odysseys’ men were nearly drawn in by creatures beautiful and alluring enough to make a man drop his guard and venture closer than he should, until…”

“He is drowned,” Oliver finished.

Nathaniel did not turn back to face Oliver, but he could tell by the heaviness in his voice that his smile had faded.

“Without resistance,” Nathaniel breathed. “Men follow willingly, expecting happiness in their embrace, but finding nothing but the cold sting of betrayal and death.”

“And you believe yourself in danger of such a fate?” Oliver spoke carefully. “That Emilia will somehow lead you to a watery grave?”

“Not in that sense.” Nathaniel’s chest pounded, nearly drowning out the sound of his own thoughts. Even the mere thought of the woman made him incapable of thinking clearly. “I am not even speaking of Emilia directly.”

“Then what on earth are you speaking of?”

Nathaniel turned back towards Oliver, but refused to meet his pitying gaze.

“Everyone!” Nathaniel shouted. “The moment a man allows anyone too much influence or proximity,he places himself in a position to be compromised. That is simply not something I can afford.”

Oliver’s shoulders dropped, a low hum escaping his chest. “So that is the truth of it, then. You withdrew when Sarah broke your heart. You had me believe it was because you needed time to grieve and heal, but you had merely decided that my friendship was no longer worth the risk.”