“Let us return to shore,” he decided, his arms burning as he steered the boat away from the center of the lake and rowed with all his might back to the safety of land. There, he could make his excuses and hurry toward the one thing that was guaranteed to clear his mind.
A short while later, the rowboat bumped against the edge of the lake. A few of the watching ladies gasped and mumbled to one another, feigning a swoon, but Nathaniel paid them no attention as he leaped out of the boat and tied it off. That done, he offered his hand to Leah.
“My darling,” he said, his voice soft and earnest, coming from a place he did not trust.
Leah took his hand, her broad smile not reaching her beautifully sad eyes. “I thought you were going to abandon me and make me clamber out of my own volition. Why, I pictured myself tripping on the hem of this gown and tumbling right into the lake.”
“I would never abandon you, my dearest,” he urged, the words as dangerous as glass in his mouth.
Her smile tightened as he helped her out of the boat, but as she made to take a step forward, the hem of her gown took its cue. It had taken her vision too literally. All of a sudden, she was stumbling, falling, the toe of her shoe caught in the folds of lavender silk.
Without thinking of all the eyes upon them, his arms rushed around her waist, pulling her against the sturdiness of his chest. Her hands grabbed his lapels, her face panicked as she kicked out to try and free her foot.
“I must have thought you were taller,” he said thickly, the weight and shape of her in his arms proving to be too much; his head was about to explode, his blood prickling in his veins, his entire being sounding a warning that she was too close, and he was stepping too far over the line they had drawn in the sand with their contract.
When she still could not right herself, he took hold of her hand and rested it on his shoulder as he kneeled before her. Swallowing thickly, he lifted her foot and teased the twisted fabric back to where it was supposed to be before setting her foot back on solid ground.
Gasps and whispers erupted all along the shoreline like a storm rustling through treetops, and when Nathaniel peered up at Leah, her face had blanched, her eyes wide in alarm. In that moment, it felt like all the world was watching, and being down on one knee, he knew they were getting the situation entirely wrong.
So, in his own panic, he did the only thing he could do. He turned to the excited crowd. “The perils of too-long hems!” he announced. “Have no fear, Lady Leah’s foot is free. But let this be a cautionary tale to you all—if a gentleman wishes to purchase a gown for you, insist on him paying for a seamstress too!”
Nervous laughter began to bubble through the guests, and it was not long before they lost interest in the dramatic scene and returned to admiring the carnival. A few ladies seemed relieved, but Nathaniel was anything but. That had been too close. Much too close.
“Are you well? Goodness, what happened?” Sarah hurried to her daughter’s side. “I heard someone saying there was a proposal afoot, and I—”
“Just a foot, caught in silk,” Leah interrupted, breathless. “Nathaniel saved me from an unexpected dip in the lake.”
Sarah exhaled sharply. “Oh. Well, that is good. It would have been a shame to ruin such a beautiful gown.”
“It certainly would though I would have been more concerned for your daughter than her dress,” Nathaniel said, bowing his head. “Now, if you will excuse me, there is something I must attend to.”
Leah looked at him, wounded. “You are leaving us?”
“Temporarily,” he replied. “I promised to speak with Sir Christopher Lansdowne about his party next week, and I have just seen him on the other side of the lake. I should not be long. I will find you when I am done.”
Sarah glanced between her daughter and Nathaniel, likely fearing the worst. “We shall await you eagerly, Your Grace. Should we meet at that horse display in an hour, perhaps? Will that be long enough?”
She thinks Leah is losing me,Nathaniel’s innards pinched with guilt.
“Just enjoy yourselves,” he urged, taking Leah’s hand and kissing it gently. “I promise, I will find you.”
He held onto Leah’s hand for a moment longer, noting the struggle in her eyes, seeing his own reflected there. It was better for them to have some distance, at least for the remainder of that evening. He hoped she understood as he turned and walked away, taking the longest path to the “Gentlemen’s Room” where Bill would be.
“Who’ll step up and fight the Highwayman next?” bellowed Arnold Merryweather, shaking his fists in the air. “Who has the courage, eh? Who don’t mind riskin’ their pretty face for a shot at victory? Who’ll not just sit and watch and go man to man, round to round, with the Champion of the South?”
Nathaniel sagged into the corner stool where Bill was ready with a cup of weak ale to swill out the fighter’s mouth, his wizened hands digging into the aching muscles in Nathaniel’s arms and shoulders, loosening the knots. There was a huge crowd inside the “Gentlemen’s Room” tent, the supposed gentlemen drunk and unruly and wild-eyed with the scent of blood and sweat and competition.
“What are you doin’? You shouldn’t be doin’ this, Nathan,” Bill whispered, reapplying the black paste wherever it had started to become patchy. “Did you quarrel with that lass of yours or omethin’? You’ll get yourself knocked out if you carry on like this. There’s naught worse than drunkards with their pride and spirits high. They’ll not fight clean.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “I do not care. I will fight until I am exhausted. I will fight until my head is clear.”
He had boxed six different men already though only one of the matches had gone beyond two rounds. It was always the way when ordinary men were invited to challenge him, their confidence not parallel to their skill. Yet, the fog in his mind had not dispersed, not even a little bit. His thoughts were as clouded and crowded as they had been when he left Leah by the lake, and if he could not rid himself of the crawling sensation of panic and fear in his chest, he did not know what he would do. Boxing kept the darkness out. What if it sneaked in? What if it already had, and that was why his mind would not clear?
“What if you’re recognized?” Bill hissed, his sharp eyes surveying the tent.
Nathaniel hesitated. “No one will know it is me. No one has ever known it is me.” He gestured at his sweat slicked chest. “This is not how gentlemen behave. No one would consider it a possibility, not even for a moment.”
After all, plenty of notable gentlemen attended the boxing matches in the warehouses of London, and nobody had suspected a thing when it came to the identity of the mysterious Highwayman. If they had, his name would have been plastered across the scandal sheets.
