“I thought you were finished at WATT.”
“I am, but I often find it takes a few weeks for everything to settle out. And I like Craig. He’s become a good friend. I imagine we’ll stay in touch.” He laid his phone on the table. “I’ll call him when we get back to the house.”
“Where will you go next?” I heard my voice lift and hated what it revealed. I wasn’t asking about work. He knew it too.
He reached his hand across the table. It grazed mine, before I pulled back. I regretted the action as soon as I took it. I held my breath, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
“I’m weighing three proposals; I’ll pick one when I get back.” His tone was measured. I watched the space between our hands. I didn’t have the courage to look into his eyes.
We chatted about silly things over the Posh Kebab Wrap with Autumn Slaw and Yogurt, for him, and the Maximus Burger, with its two patties and a fried egg, for me. It only took egg dripping all over the fries to ease us back to laughter.
As we hit the sidewalk, I felt the burger hit my stomach. “Thank goodness those dresses cinch well above the waist. They almost make me look like I have a chest too.”
“So I noticed.” Nathan’s face was alive with teasing and a glimmer of something deliciously dangerous. There was the question again. I didn’t back away this time. I lifted on my toes and kissed him in answer.
He widened his eyes. I only grinned and tilted my head toward another stop, the Jane Austen Center. “We’re here. We have to go in.”
The “center” was housed in a nondescript townhouse in a row of nondescript townhouses. But the inside was anything but. It was packed with all things Austen: artifacts, writings, placards on the walls. It was like the Braithwaite House gallery on steroids.
We submitted to a costumed guide, as it was the only way to see the full museum. She led us with a perky smile and a dress far inferior to any I’d worn, as she described Austen, her work, and her life in Bath. Our guide concluded the tour in the Tea Room with a coupon for a free biscuit. I could barely contain myself as we politely declined the biscuit and the photo booth.
“Please, no more food.” I waved my hand back at the house. “I had it wrong while I was reading. I misunderstood. Austen hated Bath.”
We walked up the hill toward Weston Road. I stopped and turned to see the city below us. I couldn’t see all Bath, but a good bit of the Georgian part. From this perspective, I saw it differently. And after the Jane Austen Center, I saw the woman differently too—the writer separate from her books.
“At first reading I thought she loved it. I mean, I’m literal, so I knew I was missing most of the humor people adore about Austen, but Catherine Morland loved Bath, so I thought Austen must have. But she was making fun of Catherine in so many ways—playing on her na?veté, and opening up her eyes and making her question and see things from a different angle. But I didn’t understand the . . . not cynicism, but I guess the realism there. Isabella Thorpe was Bath for Austen. Bath was like a bunch of Marys to her.”
“Marys?”
“She didn’t like Marys. They weren’t real. They were selfish, all hat no cattle. Like Bath.”
We walked on. Nathan was silent. I knew he was cycling through my Texan logic and the Marys. After a few minutes he took my hand again. “You’re absolutely right. I do, though. I like Marys, a Mary, very much.”
“You liked an Isabella too—or an Isabel.” I closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe I’d said it. But I couldn’t help myself, and if we were going to be anything, I needed to get it out there. It had hovered about me since Isabel’s meltdown, or wake-up, and like Wentworth, maybe I was a little dense too. There was certainly room here for misunderstandings and wrong impressions.
Nathan stopped walking.
I looked up and could barely make him out standing only a foot or two away. Darkness had come and I hadn’t noticed.
“It’s just . . . I was in front of you, Nathan, for a whole year, and if I’m going to be really honest with you, most of that time I was in love with you. I know I missed out that you liked me too, but that had to have stopped at some point, because you dated my best friend and you never actually asked me out or said anything. I get the Isabel thing is between her and me, and who knows how long she and I have been playing out this game, but the fact remains you chose to go out with her. To some degree you pursued her, not me.”
I felt rather than saw him step closer. “What must it be like to live in your head?”
“Huh?” I pressed my lips together.
“You and I see things so differently. Please remember nothing is objective. Do you think I bring everyone cupcakes? Coffee? Unpolished stones? What I felt for you never stopped. You gave no encouragement, not any I could see. I was taking your friendship as far as you’d offer it. I only started running this year so I could grab the treadmill next to you at lunch. I spent an entire weekend coming up with a list of reasons why I should shadow you my first months at WATT, why you were the engineer with the most insights on procedure and protocol—despite the fact I already knew you never follow any of them.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
“And the second I heard your voice on the phone the other day, I was scared to death. I said last night I almost missed you, Mary, but that wasn’t the whole story. You’re the one who wasn’t able to see me. I hadn’t stopped chasing you.”
His hand trailed up my arm and held my cheek. I felt his breath the heartbeat before his lips touched mine. His other hand slid around my waist to pull me closer.
Kissing Nathan, really kissing Nathan, was everything I imagined. It was music—layered, nuanced, soul-gripping, and open to endless interpretation. And much better than a fairy tale.
Chapter 24
We entered the house through the mudroom door and climbed the narrow stairs to the gallery. The gallery, open to the hallway below, was filled with soft laughter. Dinner was in full swing.
I caught Isabel’s voice. It was light and open. She was telling . . . I strained to hear. She was telling them about some of Austen’s letters to her nieces.
“I think the apologies worked.” I looked to Nathan. “Should we join them?”
He pulled me close. “I don’t want to share you. Let’s go sit by the fire in the Day Room. No one will find us there, and Sonia showed me where she keeps the port.”
“Excellent plan. I’ll grab a lighter sweater and meet you there. The fire was warm last night.”
“I’ll call Craig real quick.” He kissed me.