Six months.
I took in what he saw: Isabel’s matching bonnet was pushed back, and its black trim made her curls only glossier by comparison. She stood gently crooning. The high notes she used for young children were soft, coaxing, and endearing when directed at an enormous black horse.
I cleared my throat. This was not a moment in which I wanted to linger. “Isabel? Look who’s come.” My voice broke. Nathan squeezed my hand. I coughed to regain a normal tone. “Nathan came to visit yo—us.”
Nathan smiled at me rather than Isabel. “Hey, Isabel.” He walked to her and bent to kiss her cheek.
She stepped away before contact.
“Hello?” Her voice arced her greeting into a question.
“I . . . I’m sorry.” Nathan shot me a startled look. He hadn’t fully digested what was happening. Who could?
He took a steady breath and straightened. “That was forward of me, Miss Woodhouse, forgive me. It’s lovely to see you again. We met long ago, in another city and on a much warmer day, at a concert.” Nathan reached for her gloved hand this time. “You were with Miss . . . er . . . Tiffany, and you wore blue, not unlike today.”
“I’ve never traveled, but I often wear blue.” Her voice was cool and distant, as if she were really saying, I don’t know you, but I’ll be polite.
“Have you come to see Mary?” Isabel lifted her chin to me. It seemed that if I approved of Nathan, so could she.
Nathan stepped beside her. Both were now staring at me. He raised an assessing brow. “As a matter of fact, I have.”
Chapter 19
A line came to me as we walked to the house. Tall, handsome Nathan walked between two Regency women, and we appeared “to uncommon advantage”—the “picturesque” was perfect.
Lizzy used that remark to skip away from Mr. Darcy and the fawning, competitive Bingley sisters. It was a light, playful comment. She was running away. I glanced to Nathan. I’d thought he had come for Isabel, but the fishing, his words, his looks had ignited something new in me: hope. I didn’t want to step away from this walk, this group. In fact, I wanted more than that—I wanted to stay.
“Isn’t that right?” Isabel looked across Nathan to me.
“Hmm?”
“We won’t be here that long.” She looked back to Nathan, who had been peppering her with questions the entire walk—all general, all polite, none concerning. “We need to head home next week.”
I hoped Nathan wouldn’t ask where home was. I’d tried that already, and it had brought a furrowed brow and a flit of panic.
“Did you ever tell Mary how we met?” He delivered the line perfectly—curious indifference.
Isabel’s lips puckered. “I don’t recall meeting you. Please forgive me.”
“Not at all. I’m pleased you don’t remember. It usually takes people a third introduction to remember me.”
Nathan put an odd emphasis on third. Isabel threw me a quizzical glance. I threw it to Nathan. But rather than answer, he seemed pleased at something beyond Isabel and me. He compressed a smile and shoulder-bumped me.
As we entered the house, he pulled at my hand. Isabel didn’t notice and stepped ahead.
“You didn’t tell me your character.”
“Catherine Morland from—”
“Northanger Abbey. She’s no sidekick, Mary.” Nathan stared at me as if I was yummy. There was no other word or feeling to describe it.
“I think it’s the dress. Gives me courage.”
His chuckle wasn’t quite audible and it wasn’t quite suggestive. It was something mysterious, quiet and intriguing. Before I could react, he pulled at my hand to catch up to Isabel.
We found everyone already seated for lunch. They’d heard of Nathan’s arrival, so after well wishes and warm exclamations, we circled the table for introductions—real names, then fictional. When we reached Nathan, he stalled.
Helene tapped her finger on the dining room table. “Out with it. Introduce yourself, young man.”
Nathan, who had just picked up his knife and fork, laid them down again. He glanced to me, then focused on Helene. He took a beat before replying. “Henry Tilney.”
“Who? Who is that?” Herman tapped his wife’s hand. “I have never heard of him.”
Helene’s eyes widened. She looked to me and smiled, and before she could answer Herman, Nathan did.
“He’s the hero from Northanger Abbey. A clergyman, clumsy at times with his delivery, but an all-around good guy.” He glanced at me. “He’s curious. Some might call him a conundrum, but he gets his girl in the end.”
Helene clapped her hands together. “This is fun. I thought I’d have to winkle a romance out of you all, but this is blossoming splendidly. It’s more than I could have hoped. Oh . . . Dancing will be such fun tonight.”
I shook my head at Nathan. I didn’t trust myself to speak.
After Sonia cleared dessert, everyone drifted away. Gertrude had printed a list of activities on linen paper, but the women chose to rest—and Clara wanted her iPad. Aaron slapped Nathan on the back with an invitation to go shooting.
Isabel looped her arm through mine. She tucked me close like a lifeline. “Will you come upstairs with me?”
“Of course.” There was a concerning fragility about her voice and look.
Nathan caught it too. He hesitated outside Aaron’s grasp.
“I’ll find you later?” I asked him before leading Isabel to the stairs. Nathan nodded and followed Aaron.
“Do you feel okay? Shall we rest?”
“I’m so tired and heavy feeling.” Isabel dropped to the bed and curled up.
I pulled out my phone to text Dr. Milton. “Do you have a headache? Chills? Fever?” I pressed my hand to her forehead.
She swatted at it. “You are such a worrier. Did I know this about you?”
I dropped next to her. “Probably not. You’ve never given me cause to worry before. Not like this.”
“I’m fine. A nap will set me right . . . Sonia was looking for you earlier. She wanted to show you a center?”
The business center.
“If you nap, I’ll go find her.” I tucked my phone back into my pocket and grabbed my computer.
Isabel’s eyes were already closed. “Mmm . . . hmm . . .” was her only reply.
I headed through the front gallery, now cool, as the sun had passed above the house and it lay in shadow. Down the stairs, I walked toward the back and the kitchen. It was bathed in light. I paused outside the ballroom.
A budding romance. It’s more than I could have hoped. Oh . . . Dancing will be such fun tonight.
Perhaps Mrs. Jennings was right.
“Do you want to see the business center? I’m headed there now.” Sonia approached, carrying a multi-armed candelabra. She gripped the base in both hands. It wobbled within her grasp.
“I was just coming to find you. Can I help you with that?”
“If you could grab the candles tucked under my arm. They’re slipping.”
I pulled out eight candles tucked between her biceps and her body. “How did you get these in there?” I followed her down the hallway toward the kitchen.