“Well, at least I got you to admit you care for her,” Bill teased, leading the way to the fighters’ area, so Nathaniel could transform himself back into a respectable Duke and return to the carnival.
And Leah,his mind whispered.
“I almost feel sorry for the man,” Bill continued as he set to work passing Nathaniel a basin of water, a cloth, and some soap to clean the black paste from his face. “Heard him out in the cattle pen pleadin’ with Jonesy to let him owe the rest of the wager once he won. Kept tryin’ to give Jonesy a piece of paper instead of coin, too. Nosy bird that I am, I took a peek at the paper. Was some share in a graphite mine. Same mine they closed two years back ‘cause there was no graphite to be found. A friend of mine was workin’ there. Told me all about it—he’s back on the ships now though his wife weren’t too happy. And when Jonesy wouldn’t take it, that fella said he could offer a share in a tin mine—a tin mine that closed last month for the same reason.”
Nathaniel stared at Bill. “What did you say?”
“I’m sayin’ that fella must be fallin’ on some hard times if he was that desperate,” Bill replied, gathering up Nathaniel’s shirt, waistcoat, and tailcoat. “I mean, he willingly fought you, so he must be either despairin’ or insane.”
“No, you said something about mines,” Nathaniel urged, scrubbing hard at his face.
Bill nodded. “Aye, both the mines that gentlemen mentioned have been closed. I reckon he got himself involved in a couple of speculations—swindles, really—and now has himself a few useless mines and mountin’ debts. He wouldn’t be the first. Your father used to swindle other gentlemen like that all the time, sellin’ fake businesses or useless ones, leavin’ ‘em in the mire while he counted his money. Nothin’ they could do about it, neither, since your father had the likes of Arnold protectin’ him.”
“Do you know where my father kept that information?” Nathaniel knew it was highly unlikely that his father had sold such a business to Jonathan, considering Jonathan would have been no more than twenty when Nathaniel’s father passed, but the nature of such swindles intrigued him. Perhaps, Bill was right. Perhaps, all was not rosy in Jonathan’s financial endeavors.
Bill shrugged. “You’d have to ask Arnold, but I reckon all of that got swiped by the ones who ended your father.” He shook his head, handing Nathaniel his clothes. “I tell you, I haven’t thought about all of this in an age. It makes me want to laugh thinkin’ of all the things your father was involved in. He was so deep in his own muck, it’s a wonder he didn’t drown sooner. Anyway, you’d best be I’ back to that lass of yours and tell her you beat the fella who hurt her to a pulp.”
“She is not mine, Bill,” Nathaniel protested, but even he could hear the lack of conviction in his voice. Meeting her had changed something in his brain; he had realized that tonight. Or, maybe, it was simply that he had never had anyone to fight for before. It felt… different. Strange.
Bill went to a gap in the tent and peered out, beckoning. “Now’s your chance. No one will see you leave.”
“Thank you, Bill.” Nathaniel paused to rest a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Truly, I do not know what I would have done without you for all these years. I know you said you never had the opportunity to have children of your own, but understand this—you have been more like a father to me than my own, and even if I never return to the boxing ring, you will always be welcome at my door.”
Bill mustered a throaty laugh. “Aye, try tellin’ your mother that when I show up, stinkin’ of the docks.” He clapped Nathaniel on the back. “Away with you. Marry that girl, have yourself a happy life, and don’t you worry about me. That’s my wish for you, Nathan. Understandthat.”
Not unlike Nathaniel’s real father, Bill was a man uncomfortable with displays of affection, but that clap on the back was as meaningful as a tight hug. And as Nathaniel headed out into the dark, he turned back, seeing his smile reflected upon Bill’s weathered face.
Breathing in the woodsmoke scent of the night air, Nathaniel weaved through the shadows, making his way toward the arena that had been erected for the horse riders. He doubted Leah and her mother would be there as he had been away for longer than an hour, but there was something restless in his heart that would not settle until he at least bid them both a goodnight.
“Lady Leah!” he gasped, spotting her in the glow of torchlight, standing beside a stall selling roasted chestnuts.
She looked up, her eyes brightening for a moment. “We thought you had absconded,” she said, her tone not matching her expression. “Indeed, we were about to leave, but Mama insisted on waiting a while longer.”
“My apologies.” Nathaniel bowed his head to Sarah, who looked smug, chewing happily on a chestnut. “Sir Christopher is a babbler. Once he begins talking, it is impossible to quieten him. I have heard about his family lineage all the way back to the fifteenth century when all I asked was what manner of wine I should bring to his party. Then, of course, he told me the history of wine.”
Leah smiled. “You must have been standing very close to one of the bonfires.”
“Pardon?” Nathaniel frowned.
Leah stepped closer to him, drawing the attention of a group of young ladies who gossiped nearby. Taking a silk handkerchief from her reticule, she stood on tiptoe, bringing the delicate cloth to his temple. She dabbed in gentle strokes, her gaze flitting from whatever she was wiping away and his eyes. “You have some soot on you,” she explained in a whisper, her eyes suddenly glimmering with worry. “Did you get into an altercation with Sir Christopher?”
“Me? Not at all. Why do you say that?” Nathaniel’s insides transformed into anxious serpents. In his rush to see her, he had forgotten all about the graze on his cheek. And if she caught even the slightest whiff of the “soot,” she would know it was something else.
She brushed her thumb lightly across the injury, wincing as if she was the one hurt. “You have a bruise. A new one.” She furrowed her brow. “Or is it a scratch. I cannot tell.”
“I came through the trees,” he explained quickly. “One of the pine fronds smacked me in the face. I thought I emerged unscathed but apparently not. That does sting a little.”
Leah sighed, her smile returning. “Someone ought to wrap you in an entire outfit of thick quilts and make you wear one of those old knightly helmets at all times. You are alarmingly clumsy.”
“It is my curse,” he told her, relieved by her smile.
“And… you are telling the truth?”
He nodded, taking hold of her hand and bringing it to his lips. “I am. Colin is the lover of nature. Meanwhile, nature seems to despise me.”
“Very well,” she said softly. “I believe you, but you really must put some ointment on that, or it might scar.”
“Just as soon as I return home though I hoped I might convince you and your mother to stay a while longer, so we can wander together,” he replied, his heart aching as ifithad been punched that night. For how could he tell a woman as lovely as her that he was not what he appeared to be, that he was not the gallant gentleman she saw before her, that he was not worthy of he, even if he had wanted to be. No matter what Bill said, Nathaniel knew he carried a darkness within him—just because it had not revealed itself yet did not mean it would never do so.
