Leah’s face pinched. “He said that?”
“The ramblings of a man with a long-standing head injury,” he replied softly. “Take no notice.”
She stared down into her lap for a moment. “What was your father like?”
“I prefer not to speak of the dead,” he said a note too quickly. “He… shaped me, but he did not duly prepare me for the role of Duke. I am still learning what it means to be one.”
Leah raised her gaze. “You seem fond of your mother.”
“I am,” he conceded. “And she is fond of you. You must not pay any heed to her scowls; her face is rather stuck that way after she made the mistake of squinting into the wind on a particularly gusty day.”
Leah snorted and hurried to cover her mouth. “My mama always used to say that. For years, I was terrified of making any sort of expression in bad weather. I remember one year, during a summer storm, just smiling into the wind like a madwoman. I hoped it would make me prettier. I must have been ten or so, and I startled the gardener so badly that he went to my father and suggested that the physician be sent for.”
“You did not need the wind,” Nathaniel said, the compliment tight in his throat. There were no other people nearby; other rowboats were drifting in the near distance while guests watched in awe from the edge of the pond, so why was he flattering her as if they were in company? This was not a necessary part of the arranged performance.
Leah frowned. “What do you mean?”
“To become prettier, you did not need the wind,” he replied, unable to stop himself.
I would have sounded like an idiot if I had not finished the thought,he told himself, doing his best to convince his mind that all of this was just a result of Bill’s meddling.
Leah’s mouth opened in a small, astonished ‘o,’ her cheeks flushing a rare shade of pink that made her look unbearably beautiful in the low light of the torches that adorned the lake platforms. She glowed; it was the only description he had.
“Did the physician come?” he asked hurriedly, shifting uncomfortably on the rowboat’s bench. “Goodness, the poor gardener.”
He heard Leah swallow. “No, there was no need. My father likely muttered something about me being the death of him, and that was that. The gardener simply avoided me from thereon in. He left shortly afterward, actually. I think he thought the Abbey was haunted, and that I had been possessed by the ghost of an insane monk or something.”
“Ididfeel a tickle on the back of my neck when I visited,” he said, relaxing back into the rhythm of the oars slicing through the water, letting it distract him. “There is no possible way that Abbey does not have a few lurking ghosts.”
Leah nodded slowly. “I have seen strange things, but I have never mentioned them for fear ofactuallybeing sent away to an asylum.” She paused. “What of Bergfield Manor. Is that haunted?”
“Only by the living,” Nathaniel replied, meaning it in jest, but the words came out far sadder than he had intended. He hastened to add, in a lighter tone, “Now, what do you make of these merfolk? I rather think they are more impressive at a distance.”
Leah glanced toward a nearby rocky platform where two mermaids flapped their shiny tails now and again, one of them stifling a yawn. “I think you are right. I can see the stitching and the paint from here.”
“Shall we return to shore?” He needed to get out of the boat, needed to get away from Leah until his mind had ceased churning, needed to catch his breath and give himself a stern talking-to. That was the trouble with charades—before long, the pretense began to feel like reality, and he could not and would not risk the boundaries blurring.
Leah shrugged. “If you want to.”
“Do you want to?”
She turned her gaze toward the shore, where a crowd of young ladies had gathered, all staring and whispering at the couple in the rowboat. Nathaniel did not need to be able to hear them; it was obvious what they were saying from their animated gestures. The ruse was going exceedingly well. Too well.
“I think the evening has been one of our greatest successes,” Leah said in a faraway voice, her throat moving as she swallowed. “Everyone has seen us. Everyone believes we are helplessly in love. Who knew we would be such accomplished thespians?”
She sounded sad, her melancholy eyes twinkling with moisture as she turned back to Nathaniel.
“Are you having doubts about continuing?” Nathaniel asked, his voice catching. He cleared his throat, pretending there was something stuck there.
Leah hesitated. “No.”
“Are you certain?”
She sighed wearily. “I am worried about my mother, that is all. She will be heartbroken.” She gestured toward the shore. “You saw how happy she was tonight. I wish… I could bottle that and save it for a rainy day. It has been an age since I have seen her so… merry, but no, I am not having doubts. Everything is working perfectly.”
He did not believe her fully, nor did he want to press her for fear that she might say something he was not prepared to hear. The rusewasjust a ruse, no matter how confused his mind had become, but he wondered if they had barreled into it with too much enthusiasm. They had played their parts too freely, and now, the eventual cost of their game was rising to unexpected heights.
People will be hurt,he realized, thinking of his brother and even his mother.But Leah and I will be spared.It was an uncomfortable trade, he considered, but one that had to be made.
