“My darling, look at this!” Sarah plucked something else out of the box: a brooch designed for the neckline. The frame of it was diamond shaped, and in the center was an amethyst the size of an egg while smaller, paler purple gems surrounded it.
Leah could not find any words as she delved into the box and took out a letter addressed to her. Not wanting her mother and father to see what it said, she took it to the window and perched upon the sill, opening it up. Her heart fluttered in ways it was not supposed to as her eyes absorbed Nathaniel’s words, intended for her eyes only:
My unexpected beloved,
I hope this gift does not upset you or disappoint you, for it is not my intention, but even as I am writing this, I worry that you might think I am trying to change you or that I paid any heed whatsoever to the words of that oaf last night. I insist, once again, that you could adorn yourself in a potato sack, and you would still be the most interesting, wondrous lady in the room.
That being said, I suspected you might desire a new gown for the Countess of Grayling’s winter spectacular so that you will be every bit as glorious as your heroine when you meet her. That is the only reason behind this gown… and the accompaniments. The brooch is a temporary loan, but the rest is yours to keep. If I could, I would allow you to keep the brooch too, but it is my mother’s, and she has earmarked it for my future wife. So, perhaps it does belong to you as you might be the closest thing to it.
Anyway, I would relish it if you would wear this gown in a fortnight’s time—do not tell anyone, but that shall be the night of the Countess’s extravaganza. Oh, and I should also like to invite you to meet with my mother this coming week. Wednesday evening at seven o’clock at the address above. A simple dinner for three—or four if your mother would like to join us, too? You do not have to wear this gown though you can if you would like a rehearsal of how it will look. I certainly shall not complain.
I hope you are well, dear Leah. I enjoyed our dinner together.
Fondest regards,
Nathaniel.
“He wants me to have dinner with his mother this week,” Leah explained, her throat tightening as a conflict of emotions twisted around it, squeezing. “You are invited too, Mama.”
Ezra snorted like a bull. “And what of me? Am I not invited?”
“I believe it is just an evening for the ladies, Father,” Leah replied. “As His Grace has no father anymore, it might be uncomfortable if you were there. But you will, of course, meet him later in the season at any gathering you have an inclination to attend.”
Ezra swept a hand across his hair: a pensive habit. “I had no desire to attend anything this season, but I shall attend whatever event is next so that I may have my share of time with the Duke.” He narrowed his eyes at his wife. “You are behaving as if he isyoursuitor, Sarah. It is most embarrassing.”
“Oh, hush,” Sarah replied, grinning from ear to ear. “You shall not put a pin to my happiness, darling. Not today. I refuse to allow it.” She ran to her daughter and took hold of her hands, dancing Leah around the parlor while Ezra looked on with almost a smile upon his face.
And as she danced, Leah nearly forgot that it was all pretend and meeting with Nathaniel’s mother was just a means to prevent her from bothering Nathaniel for the rest of the season, just as it was supposed to give Leah a season free from being a disappointment. Instead, her heart swelled, and her own happiness bubbled, swept up by the enthusiasm of her mother.
“That jewel must be a wedding gift!” her mother cried. “A promise of it, at least.”
With that, reality struck Leah like a cold, wet fish to the face. The gown, the brooch, the letter, the meeting with Nathaniel’s mother, the events they were to attend as a pair—it was all a performance, and everything that might come from him were merely props and rehearsed lines and the illusion of a suitor. She felt quite stupid, dancing around the parlor like a giddy girl.
But this ismyperformance,she reminded herself. All she had to do was look at her mother and father, and their obvious delight, to know that it was working. They believed every part of it, and the only way to ensure that their belief continued was to continue acting as if it was all real.
“I shall have to purchase a new dress to match the elegance of yours. And we shall have to have a seamstress alter it to fit properly though it does look as if it was made for you,” Sarah decided, and for once, Ezra did not try to protest.
Instead, he smiled. “Let a new dress be my gift to you, my darling, since you are apparently sore about the lack of them.” He chuckled—a rare sight. “Take what money you need, but do not be frivolous. Choose well, and Leah, you may acquire the services of a seamstress and purchase something else for yourself, too. I do not know what you ladies prefer, but something to complement this gown that the Duke has selected.”
Leah should have been overjoyed that everything was falling into place far better than she could have imagined, but her enthusiasm had ebbed as quickly as it had arrived. Perhaps, this was not the triumphant idea she had thought it was. Perhaps, in the end, this would prove to be a cruelty to the two people she had already disappointed the most in the world. And while she usually did not care for her father’s judgment, seeing him laugh and smile and offer to let them buy what they pleased pinched at her heart.
There will be no salvaging our relationship after this,she knew, for letting a viscount slip through her fingers had been one thing, but to let a huge fish like Nathaniel off the hook would be quite another.
But how could she undo what had already been done? How could she put an end to the pretense now when they had already waded in too deep? The gown arriving had tied a stone around her ankle, dragging her further into the depths of what she and Nathaniel had conspired together. She had thought she could sever the agreement at any time as detailed in their contract, but she now realized it was impossible.
Whether it happened the following day or at the season’s end, the outcome would be the same. Even if he took the blame, as he had promised he would, there would only be one person responsible in the Bolton household: her.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
“Everything is going to be fine,” Nathaniel told himself, taking one last look at his reflection in the bedchamber mirror. There was a hint of a bruise in the natural curve beneath his eye, following the bone of the socket, but after almost a week, it was barely noticeable.
He touched the injury gently, the flesh still tender. Despite the dull ache, he smiled, for though the blow had hurt afterward, he had won the boxing match and retained his title as champion. The winnings had been significant: enough to buy that splendid gown, straight from the window of the finest dressmaker in London.
I earned it with my own two hands,he mused proudly, for though it might not have seemed like the most gentlemanly way of gaining income, it was the only thing he excelled at. True, he had some income from his various, modest business ventures, but that money went toward the townhouse and the estate and his mother’s comfort as did the great fortune that his father had amassed. The trouble was, Nathaniel did not want to touch any of the latter if he could help it, and the thought of buying anything for Leah with that money had rankled him.
Pushing a lock of his dark hair forward, so it fell across his injured eye, he gave a nod of satisfaction and headed downstairs to await Leah. It was ten minutes to seven; she would arrive at any moment, and though he would not admit it, he was nervous.
“I hope this young lady does not think it is fashionable to be late,” Nathaniel’s mother said, the moment he stepped into the drawing room. “Cook shall be furious if dinner is delayed though I do not know why she has gone to all the trouble of cooking so much. It is not as if we are celebrating.”
