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Authors: Rebecca Connolly

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BOOK: An Arrangement of Sorts
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The woman’s eyes narrowed a touch. “Yes.”

Nathan fought back the urge to run up to Moira and steady her, for she looked positively ready to faint. “Mrs. Charles Allenford?” she somehow managed to get out.

Mrs. Allenford’s face cleared and she laughed merrily. “Dear me, no. My husband is Mr. Peter Allenford, the elder brother. Charles lives with us, but he is no closer to marrying than my own child, I fear.”

He was a right sight closer than she could have possibly imagined, Nathan thought as he sighed heavily, both in relief and regret. As traumatizing as it would have been for Moira to have Charles married, it would have made things so much the easier for Nathan.

“The second is realizing that nothing you want matters anymore.”
The squire’s voice echoed in Nathan’s mind and he closed his eyes against the desire to groan.

“My name is Moira Dennison, and I


“Moira?”

Nathan’s eyes snapped open and he turned at the male voice he heard from somewhere down the street. A young man of no more than twenty-five stood stock still in the street, staring at Moira as if he had seen a ghost. An older man, obviously his brother, stood next to him and was staring between the two back and forth in abject confusion.

“Charles,” Moira whispered, though it somehow carried as if she had spoken in normal tones.

For a moment, no one moved, and it seemed no one even breathed. Then suddenly Charles was running and Moira was coming down the steps of the house, smiling brightly. In the next instant, he had his arms around her and was swinging her around, both laughing merrily.

Nathan’s heart stopped in his chest, and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. What he had expected the dreaded reunion to be like, he could not have said, but never had he envisioned this. Nor could he have imagined how exquisitely it would hurt.

“What are you doing here?” Charles asked with a laugh as he finally set Moira back down.

“I came to see you, of course,” Moira scolded impatiently, rapping him on the arm sharply. “I had enough of being alone, and came to find you.”

A bit of the light in Charles’ eyes died and he sighed, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long, Moira. I’m so sorry.”

Nathan snorted to himself in derision. Sorry could not begin to cover what the man ought to be saying to Moira.

“Charles,” Moira said softly, “when you left, you said you were going to find work so that you could earn enough to marry on. Have you done so yet?”

Charles looked at her, his face draining of color a bit, and Nathan’s heart gave a frightening lurch. But then he took Moira’s hands in his own and raised them to his lips. “Yes, I have,” he replied in a voice that sounded more hollow than grave.

It was answer enough. Moira nodded and smiled warmly. “You have filled out a bit, I think. Had your face not been so unaltered, I should not have known you again. I can no longer hide your scrawny self behind me.”

That brought a laugh from her fiancé and he hugged her again. “Moira, Moira, I’ve missed you! But come, I must introduce you to my family.” He kept one arm around her and turned her to face his brother, who had come up behind them, and was only now beginning to smile. “Peter, this is Miss Dennison. Moira, my brother Peter Allenford.”

They curtseyed and bowed respectively, and Peter took her hand, kissing it softly. “Pleasure, Miss Dennison. Charles has mentioned you before, of course, but his description of you fell far short of reality.”

Nathan almost groaned in agony, but here, at least, was a man who knew what a rarity Moira was.

Moira grinned and accepted the compliment with a tilt of her head. “I wish I could say the same for you, Mr. Allenford, but he never mentioned you at all.”

Peter flashed a glare at his brother, who shrugged. “I should box his ears for that, but I’m afraid that I cannot. He didn’t know I was still alive, you see. He was told with the rest of the family that I went down with my crew at seventeen, but I had the bad timing, or great fortune, as you may wish to call it, of being ill at the time and was in Spain recovering. He only received news of me two years ago.”

“Hence your desire to come to Preston,” Moira gasped in realization as she turned to Charles.

He nodded, still smiling at his brother.

She shook her head at him. “I wish you had told me.”

“I wanted to, but I couldn’t be sure it was true,” Charles said with only the barest hint of an apology in his tone. “At any rate, I see you have already met Gwen.” He gestured back to his sister-in-law, who stood at the door still, smiling at them all.

“Yes, I have, though not formally.” Moira turned and curtseyed properly, making Gwen smile even more. “A pleasure, Mrs. Allenford.”

“Oh, please, call me Gwen,” she called. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see to William now before Kitty goes mad.”

Nathan was beginning to feel very out of place, and wished most heartily to be anywhere else. He was no longer needed, and certainly not wanted. He started to shift away, when he heard, “I would like you both to meet Nathan, who has been helping me to find you.” With a groan, he turned and forced himself to smile just a bit, as would be polite.

The brothers shook hands with him, and he was pleased to find that both had a firm grip with strong hands. They exchanged pleasantries, and Nathan was relieved that neither man asked after his last name. He could not be certain who would know his name this far north, and revealing that bit of information now would not be wise.

“Well, I think we all have much to talk about,” Peter said with a grin as he rubbed his hands together, “and it is rather chilly yet this morning. Miss Dennison, would you care to come in?”

She smiled and took his arm. “I should be glad to.” She turned back to Nathan and for the first time in many minutes, looked uncertain.

“I will be heading back towards town, Miss Dennison,” he told her, backing away with a bow.

She disengaged herself from Peter’s arm and came towards him. “You’re not leaving now, are you?” she asked, her eyes full of concern and a touch of fear.

How touching
, he thought bitterly.
She remembers me
.

He smiled blandly, even as his eyes rak
ed
her face hungrily as if for the last time. “Not until the morning. I will not leave without saying goodbye, don’t worry.” He raised his eyes to the men behind her, then looked back down. “You seem to be well taken care of. I trust I don’t need to have you fetched back to the boarding house tonight?”

“No, I’m sure they can see me there,” she murmured, her eyes wide and slightly confused. “And I will arrange for your reward to be waiting you this afternoon at the bank we passed on the way in.”

He nodded, instantly ignoring her words. There would be no reward for him. Not even a monetary one. She could use it however she liked. They could.

They. It was no longer Moira and Nathan. Now it was Moira and Charles.

“Until tomorrow, then,” he said stepping back and bowing once more. He needed to leave now, before it was too late. Before it hurt any more.

She curtseyed a little, still watching him intently, not saying anything further.

He could not bear to have her look at him so, could not abide the potency and beauty of those eyes a moment longer. He turned and walked away, feeling as though he were leaving his very soul behind him.
    

C
hapter
S
eventeen

 

M
oira lay awake in her bed that night, feeling more than a touch of confusion, but a great deal of relief as well. Her reunion with Charles had been better than she could have hoped for. He was exactly the same as she had remembered, except for being larger and stronger, which was a fine improvement. They had talked and laughed for most of the day, and she had truly enjoyed reminiscing with him. They never spoke of marriage; the word had not even been said except for when she had asked about the money, but she was in no hurry. It had been so long since they had been together that some period of time to get reacquainted would be necessary before either of them could comfortably agree to finally marry.

She got along splendidly with Gwen, his sister-in-law, and adored his nephew William, who was only a year in age. Charles’ brother Peter was actually a very reserved man and had hardly said anything once they were inside, but he was certainly agreeable in spite of it all. She was fitting in very well with Charles’ family, and she could not deny that she was happy to be with him again.

And yet she could not sleep. She was fatigued, as they had spent a good portion of the afternoon out in the city. Charles had wanted to show her everything he could and she had enjoyed the day immensely. He was right; Preston had many things to offer. She could be very happy here without exerting too much effort. But with all the contentment she was feeling, still sleep would not come.

She released a huff of frustration and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. She knew the trouble.

Nathan.

She had not seen him since she had gone inside with the Allenfords, not even when she had gone walking about the town. Her first stop had been to request that the banker draw up a note for five thousand pounds, which caused his brows to shoot so high that she feared they would fly off of his face entirely. But once she showed him the letter she had procured from Uncle George, who was a rather well known man in London, there was no trouble at all. She informed the banker to expect a man asking after the reward sometime that day, praying there would be no difficulties about it. She still knew very little of the fortune she had inherited, and had yet to tell Charles of it. For some reason, she wanted to hold that information back a little longer.

It had been very peculiar, not seeing Nathan for almost an entire day. It was unsettling, at the very least. But she had it on good authority that he was still here, which was of some comfort. She had doubted his words to her that morning when he said that he would not leave without saying goodbye. That moment had felt very much like a farewell in its own right.

Though the time was drawing rather nigh, she was not ready to say goodbye to him. Not that she had much of a choice in the matter. She was engaged, and to a man she cared a great deal for. Beyond that, Nathan was not suitable for a woman of her apparent rank and fortune. Charles could barely be considered such, but if what Nathan had said was true, that society would be a much harsher critic of her than she would like, then she could not risk its aggravation further by marrying so poorly.

That was hardly a reason at all. It was a paltry excuse, and something that she felt dirty for even thinking. What did she care about society and their dictates on whom she could or could not have? But, in spite of her opinions, it was something that she really should not ignore.

And she needed to gather all of the reasons that she could, poor or not, to support her decision.

She had maintained her distance sufficiently well, she thought, save for that little incident the day before. They had been merely amiable acquaintances, with no hint of what lay beneath the surface. Tomorrow would be the severing of their relationship in its entirety, and there would be no more distance from anyone. There would be no need for it.

Why then was she so restless tonight?

She shook her head and got out of the bed, sliding her feet into her slippers and pulling on the wrap Mrs. Farrow had left for her. The kind, middle aged woman who ran the boarding house had been so comforting last night when she came up to assist Moira herself. She had offered her services in any way that she could, and even hinted that, should she have wished it, she might be able to find some warm milk down in the kitchens at night.

That would soothe her mind and relax her enough for sleep.

She tiptoed as quietly as she could down the hall, hoping not to disturb any of her neighboring guests. The stairs were rather worn and in some need of repair, and were destined to creak horribly, but if she stayed to the right side of them, she would be safe. Gingerly she trod, wincing with every step.

A faint light from the taproom stopped her in her place and she held her breath, pressed her back to the wall, and slowly peered around the corner into the main area.

Alone at a table near the fire, the same place he had been this morning, sat Nathan. He had a drink before him, but even from her position, Moira could tell that he had not touched it. He just stared at it, one hand turning it absently on the table.

BOOK: An Arrangement of Sorts
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