An Arrangement of Sorts (4 page)

The moment he said it, he wished the words unsaid. Her head snapped around and the flash of hurt and vulnerability in her eyes surprised him. She rode on ahead before any other words passed his lips, and he was left cursing himself behind her.

With a groan, he urged Mercury on again until he was nearly beside her. She saw him from the corner of her eye and immediately began riding faster, but he matched her.

“I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Hammond,” she said airily, seemingly in control once more.

“Well, I have something to say to you, and I will say it. And when I have finished, I will fall back and let you have your precious solitude until you wish for me to speak again.” Well,
that
was certainly a well-spoken thing. So much for soothing wounded pride.

Her pale eyes flicked to him only briefly. “Very well. Say what you wish.”

He let out a breath and cleared his throat. “My words just now were spoken in anger, and were entirely inappropriate and rude, Miss Dennison. I apologize.”

She faced him now, her brow furrowed in confusion. “You do?”

“You doubt me?” he asked stiffly, more insulted that she doubted his sincerity than that she thought he was ungentlemanly.

“No, no, I believe you. I just didn’t think you would.” She tilted her head slightly. “I thought I needed to apologize to you for my words, yet again, and hardly expected you to apologize first.” She offered a very small smile. “I did not mean to slight you, nor to say you were not a gentleman… I mean, obviously you are not, but…” She winced and clamped her lips together.

Nathan chuckled softly. “It’s all right, Miss Dennison. I aim to act like a gentleman regardless of my station in life, as my mother raised me to be. Good manners should be universal, don’t you think?”

She nodded and sighed heavily. “It has been quite a morning for me, I find.”

Now that was true. “For me as well. I’m not the most accomplished conversationalist, nor particularly gifted when it comes to a new acquaintance. But I can promise you this, I will never intentionally say anything to wound or offend you. I may do a bit of insulting all on my own by sheer stupidity, but it will never be intentional. I’m afraid I have been teasing you this morning, I thought it might make the day easier.” He shrugged in another silent apology, hoping she would take his meaning.

She looked up at him, one brow raised, which was oddly charming on her. “Teasing? Already?”

He nodded and shrugged one shoulder again.

She bit her lip. “Teasing,” she mused, her eyes clouding in thought. She wrinkled her nose a little as she looked back up at him. “I’m afraid that I am unused to teasing, Mr. Hammond.”

“Now that is a shame,” he said with a sigh. Unused to teasing. That just would not do. “Well, you shall have to get used to it, Miss Dennison. You will have much of your share before our journey’s end.”

One corner of her mouth curved up ever so slightly. “And how shall I respond to such teasing?”

“Oh, return them, by all means, if you can. I can appreciate a fine show of wit and a sharp tongue.”

“Be warned, Mr. Hammond,” she urged, her eyes dancing, “I sharpen my tongue nightly.”

He fought the urge to laugh. She was warming to this already. “Consider me warned. And do let me know if you wish to borrow my whetstone.”

“I’ve brought my own.”

Now he did laugh, and turned to applaud her. “Bravo, Miss Dennison. You’re already in fine form.”

She laughed once. “I highly doubt my form has anything to do with it, but thank you.” She seemed a bit impish at the moment, smiling as if she were rather pleased with herself.

Actually, he was rather pleased with her too, and her form was fine indeed. Her short coat and gown were shades of green and seemed to accentuate her figure quite well, giving her a rather slim waist and trim hips, but were thick and sturdy, perfect for travel. Though it was the middle of April, the mornings still held quite a chill in the air, and he silently praised her wise choices in apparel.

What Nathan also noticed was that her clothing looked rather well worn. And not just from recent wear, but from a history of use. As if they had been mended many times. And the boots he had been so fortunate as to glimpse earlier also showed very obvious signs of use. Yet she had told him she had enough money to pay him handsomely. Where was that money going to come from and, if she had it, why was she wearing things so well used?

She also chose not to wear a bonnet, oddly enough. He thought he saw one tied somewhere on her horse, but she was not wearing it. Her hair, which truly was a remarkable color, seemed determined to not be tied up as long tendrils hung down her back where they had slipped from their knot. He had the oddest desire to twirl one of those locks around his finger, just to see if it would curl.

He shook himself out of his examination and paid attention to where he was riding, which was no doubt a safer course. But of all the things he had just noticed, one of them kept burning in his mind until his curiosity could no longer stand it. “If you’ll forgive my impertinence, Miss Dennison,” he began.

She arched a brow at him, but said nothing.

He tried not to smile at her expression, which he understood all too well. He’d been nothing but impertinent since they’d met.

“Why don’t you wear a bonnet? I can see that you have one, but you do not wear it. I don’t mean to pry, nor to imply that you ought to, I’m only curious.”

“Oh, is that all? It’s quite simple, really,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t like bonnets.”

He had to chuckle, mostly out of disbelief. “You don’t… like them? That is all?”

“That is all. I didn’t start wearing bonnets until recently, and I find that I don’t like them. I hardly like having my hair up at all. I would much rather leave it all down and let the wind carry it as it will, but that is hardly sensible.”

“No, of course, hardly sensible,” he murmured in absent agreement, forcing himself not to look as amused as he felt.

“If I must wear my hair up, then I would much prefer to leave the rest of my face exposed to the light, rather than shield it,” she continued, completely unaware of Nathan’s struggle. “I do so love the feeling of warm sunshine on my face.”

He made a non-committal sound, but kept mostly silent. This was far more inane than he ever imagined a discussion of bonnets could be, should he ever have imagined a discussion of bonnets at all. He couldn’t say he had.

“I know, I know, it simply isn’t done, and all ladies must wear bonnets,” she said with a slight roll of her eyes, as if he had protested her shocking lack of bonnet-loving. “But honestly, wearing a bonnet is almost akin to putting blinders on a horse! I would have to turn my head all the way around to have a proper look at someone who is directly beside me. I just don’t think it is necessary to restrict myself in that manner just for the sake of my complexion.”

“You seem to have quite a lovely complexion without worrying about a bonnet, Miss Dennison.” Somehow, the compliment slipped out without Nathan actually thinking about it. It was a true statement; her complexion was one of the loveliest he had ever seen. But to just blurt that sort of thing out was not something Nathan was accustomed to doing. At one time in his life, not so far gone, he’d had quite a way with words.

She smiled shyly. “Thank you, Mr. Hammond. You are too kind. My aunt was forever bemoaning my paleness and declared it was not healthy, and sent me out of doors so as to darken up. I am afraid it only helped a little. I seem to be doomed to paleness.”

“So have you never burned, then?” He could have slapped himself for such an inane question.

She grinned a rather impish grin. “Just once. My aunt had sent me out and forbade me to come in again until she called for me.”

He returned her smile, no longer scolding himself. “And she forgot?”

“And she went out. I was out in the garden for the entire day. My poor nose has never been the same again.” She rubbed her nose tenderly as if the memory still burned.

He leaned forward and peered intently at her pert little nose, as if examining it. “Well, it certainly looks healed well enough to me. But then, I know nothing of noses.”

She shook her head, still smiling, which delighted him. “You certainly don’t. My aunt assured me it was ruined.” She sighed dramatically. “Quite ruined. She was convinced it destroyed any chance I ever had at being beautiful.”

“She was mistaken.”
    

Moira was more than a touch confused by the sudden change in him. One minute they were throwing insults at each other, the next they were teasing, and the next he was complimenting her? How on earth was she supposed to react?

She looked away and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, knowing full well she was blushing now. What had come over her? She had been so confident, so sure only moments ago, and now she was shy and retreating and awkward.

She suspected it had little to do with her and everything to do with the man riding beside her.

He rode rather well, and even if he had been a real gentleman, he would have been skilled. The time he had spent with the army must have really improved him. He spoke well, he rode well, he obeyed well… she found herself wondering what other skills he had that were not common for a… well, for a common man.

And she was not too proud to admit that, out of the entire group of men she had seen at that pub, he was the most attractive, for whatever that was worth. He had dark hair that he kept cropped short, though there was slight curl to it, especially where it met his neck. His eyes were darker, and she already felt the power in them. H
e
was tall and broad and muscled, she expected, given the way his rather plain clothing fit him. His skin was tanned, but not especially dark, which was most likely due to working outside. She had seen some men working on a cottage, and wondered if he had helped them. His boots were clean, but rather well used. She suspected they were his best, and she would not say anything about it. How could she, considering what she herself was wearing?

She only had three dresses and this was her sturdiest, not to mention her most comfortable. She had brought the others along, but she did not know what sort of washing she would be able to do along the way, if any at all. She could certainly mend them, if it came down to it.

Some day she would have to find a town with a proper dressmaker, now
that
she had the funds.

“Well, now that we have begun, Miss Dennison, perhaps you would care to inform me as to our destination and anything else you may find relevant for me to know?”

His low voice, apparently unaffected, cut into her thoughts and she was grateful for the distraction. “Yes, you are quite right, Mr. Hammond.” She held her breath, knowing she could not keep it from him any longer, and that this could change everything. “The last information I had was that Charles was heading for Preston.”

“Preston?” he cried.

“I know,” she said morosely, knowing just how impossible it sounded. “And I don’t even know that he is still there.”
 

Nathan bit back an entire string of curses and struggled for calm. He rubbed his brow with one hand and forced himself to exhale slowly. “Well, what
do
you know, if I might be so bold?”

She looked over at him, and her expression slightly mollified him. She was exhausted, even though they had just started. This had been weighing on her for some time and she knew exactly what she had just asked of him. “Should I tell you the whole story, Mr. Hammond? Or would you prefer to have no personal information, merely a destination?”