Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
N OT FOR THE first time this weekend, Nathan wished that he had stayed in London. It wasn't so much that he kept thinking about Verity Cole, although he did, or that he dreaded enduring Lady Lockwood's acid tongue—he'd been astonished to find that he had actually missed the old dictator at times in the past few months he'd been away. Nor, even, was he unhappy at the thought of seeing Annabeth and Sloane together.
What was driving Nathan mad was his mother's conviction that seeing Annabeth with Sloane would cause him anguish. For two days she had been alternately assuring him that she knew he would handle the situation like the gentleman he was, then asking him if he didn't want to stay home so he wouldn't have to see his former love.
"I do hope everything goes smoothly," his mother was saying now as their carriage lumbered toward Stonecliffe.
Aunt Jocelyn let out an inelegant snort. "If Lady Lockwood is there, I can guarantee that things will not be smooth."
"Oh, Jocelyn." Rose Dunbridge patted the other woman's hand. "How you love to tease. You love Lady Lockwood, as we all do."
That was an egregious whopper. Jocelyn was almost as sharp-tongued as Lady Lockwood herself, and there had been several instances where a verbal battle between the two had lasted for hours as neither woman would concede her position. But Nathan didn't point out the error in his mother's memory. She somehow managed to actually believe whatever cheerful comments she made.
"It is too bad, though, that Annabeth will be there," Rose went on, dogged in pursuit of her theory. "I know how painful that will be for you, Nathan."
"Mother, I promise you. I am no longer in love with Annabeth. I saw her when I first returned from Italy, and it wasn't painful in the least."
Nathan had realized that he was no longer in love with Annabeth while he was still abroad. It was odd how pressing the ache for her had been for years, yet when Nathan had first ceased to feel it, he hadn't even noticed that the pain was gone. In fact, thoughts of Annabeth had been absent for quite some time before he'd become aware that she only sprang to mind now and then as memories of an old friend.
Despite all that, some part of Nathan had dreaded their first reunion. He had feared that he'd just tricked himself into believing he was no longer in love with her and that when he was confronted with her again, happy and in love with her new husband, his old feelings would come rushing back. Or that the situation would be so awkward that they'd never be comfortable around each other again.
Surprisingly, after an initial hesitancy in their greeting, seeing her had turned out not to be difficult at all . She was just Annabeth, and he was just Nathan, friends since he was six. Nothing had stirred in him but the pleasure of seeing an old friend, and they had chatted together easily.
"Yes, I know you felt that way then , but she wasn't in a ‘delicate condition' at that time," Rose Dunbridge said. "It's altogether different now."
Nathan wasn't sure what Annabeth's pregnancy had to do with what he felt for her, but he was too wise to follow that subject.
His mother went on, "She and Sloane should have stayed in Dorset or wherever it is."
"Cornwall, Mother. And Annabeth is Lady Lockwood's granddaughter. Of course she would come."
Jocelyn laughed. "Adeline is Lady Lockwood's daughter, and she'd move to Northumberland if she thought it would keep Lady Lockwood away."
"Oh, Jossy..." This was one of Rose's frequent refrains.
Aunt Jocelyn and his mother were as different as could be, Rose being as sweet and flighty as Jocelyn was sharp and practical, but they had been the best of friends since their first Season. Jocelyn was Nathan's aunt on his father's side, and it had been through Jocelyn that Nathan's father, George, had met Rose. Jocelyn had been a frequent visitor to their house all of Nathan's life. She had never married, and after George died of jaundice several years ago, Rose had moved in with her sister-in-law. It had been a pleasant situation for all concerned...until Jocelyn had sold her home in Bath, and the two women both moved into the manor. Luckily, Nathan liked his flat in London.
"It will all turn out well, though, dear." Rose patted her son's arm. "I'm sure of it. You'll meet another splendid young woman who loves you."
"Preferably one with money," Jocelyn inserted.
And here was his aunt's favorite topic.
"Oh, Jocelyn, that doesn't matter," Rose protested. "What's important is love. Why, look at George and me. We were so very happy."
"Be that as it may, it doesn't alter the fact that there's woodworm in the railing and you've had to close off the east wing entirely."
"I realize that, Aunt Jocelyn," Nathan said, doing his best not to snap at her. "We'll find some way to deal with it." Though he had no idea what that might be. The estate was mortgaged to the hilt, and even if they sold it, it would do little more than pay off their loans and they would be left with no income from the farms. He couldn't help but wish that a few of his ancestors had, at least every now and then, had some sort of financial sense.
"Oh, let's not talk about such gloomy things now," Rose said as they reached Stonecliffe. "This is a day for celebration."
Escaping the carriage seemed cause enough for celebration to Nathan.
Everyone was gathered in the larger assembly room, for Lady Lockwood's entire family was there, even down to her dead son Sterling's daughters, who contributed little other than to giggle and keep Petunia running in excited circles— as if Lady Lockwood's demon dog needed anything to stir him up .
It didn't surprise Nathan that the pug was the first to see him. It was typical of his luck. The little dog launched into her peculiar barking and made a beeline for Nathan's shoes.
"Hah, outsmarted you," Nathan told the dog. "Wore my oldest pair." Petunia sent him an aggrieved look, but carried on her attack with only slightly less enthusiasm than she would have no doubt shown for a more expensive target.
Everyone turned to see them, and Adeline rushed forward, hands outstretched. "Nathan. Dear boy. It's a delight to see you again." She turned to Rose. "And you must be exceedingly happy to have him home."
Adeline chatted with the three of them until there was an imperious thump of a cane across the room. "Don't just stand there talking, Adeline. Let them in."
Adeline quickly stepped aside and everyone else parted like the Red Sea before Moses, forming an aisle straight to an ornate chair where Lady Lockwood sat. Nathan started forward, dragging Petunia, who remained firmly latched onto his shoe, along with him.
"For goodness' sake, Annabeth, come get that dog," Lady Lockwood ordered.
Annabeth hurried forward, but Nathan hastily grabbed up Petunia before she could bend down to pick up the pug. She smiled as Nathan passed the animal off to her. "Sorry."
Nathan stared at her. His mother had said she was pregnant, but he had not expected her to be so well along. When he'd first seen her after he got home only three months ago, she hadn't been showing at all. Still, even if hadn't seen her swelling stomach, he would have known the truth by her face. Her skin shone, her eyes were alight, and her joy was palpable. Any lingering worry Nathan had that she might be unhappy with Sloane was thoroughly resolved. Everything was just as it should be, however painful the road to get there had been.
"Take your time, Dunbridge," Lady Lockwood said in a tone that was in direct opposition to her words. "It was a shock to us all to see Annabeth. I'm sure you didn't expect her to be quite this pregnant. I was too polite to say anything, of course, but one can't help but wonder if she will eventually birth a house."
Annabeth deposited the wriggling pug into Lady Lockwood's lap with perhaps a bit more force than was necessary.
"It's a good thing you are so polite," Nathan recovered enough to tell Lady Lockwood, then turned to Annabeth. "I see you're still spry enough to chase Petunia, though."
"Yes, for my sins," Annabeth chuckled. "How are you? It seems forever."
"I'm quite well. Married life is obviously agreeing with you."
Annabeth laughed. "I'm as wide as a barn, and you needn't pretend otherwise. Sloane is convinced I am going to have twins."
"But you're glowing," Nathan replied. "I know you're happy. And I couldn't be happier for you."
"Nathan Dunbridge," Lady Lockwood trumpeted. "You can chitchat later. Come here, boy, and let me look at you. I may have forgotten you after all this time. Your absence has been almost as irksome as your former omnipresence at my home used to be."
Nathan went up to the Lady Lockwood and bowed. "My lady. It's so good to see you again." It was the truth. In some strange way, he was fond of the cantankerous old woman.
"Humph. You still make an elegant bow, Dunbridge. Welcome home." She gave a regal nod of dismissal, and Nathan stepped back. Everyone else moved in to greet him. Sloane's father, Marcus— what was he doing here? —was first, followed by all the others in an almost dizzying array.
Even Sloane had a grin and a pleasant greeting for him. If marriage and impending motherhood had made Annabeth glow, it had clearly softened Sloane's personality. Nathan doubted that they would ever be good friends, but he'd known Sloane forever, and now that they were no longer snarling over Annabeth, Sloane seemed like less an enemy and more like one of those annoying sort of cousins that one can't get rid of.
"Nathan! Nathan!" a boy shouted, tearing into the room and running at him.
Nathan laughed and picked him up. "Oof. My goodness, Gil, you've become big."
"I'm six now," Gil explained. "I can ride my pony without any leading rein. And I can read and do sums."
"I can see you're practically grown up," Nathan said.
Gil leaned in and said in a reassuring voice, "But I still like to play with my soldiers."
"Excellent. Then we shall have a battle next time I come, eh?"
"Yes." Gil nodded and jumped down, announcing to the room at large, "I'm going to dinner and bed now." He went first to Lady Lockwood and made a proper bow, then kissed her cheek.
Gil made a tour of the room then left, taking Petunia with him. And, much to everyone's relief, Sterling's giggling girls were shepherded out by the eldest daughter. The group was further reduced when Adeline took Rose and Jocelyn for a tour of her gardens, and at last it was possible to carry on an actual conversation.
Nathan was talking to Carlisle and Noelle about his stay in Paris when Bennett, the Rutherfords' dignified butler, came into the room and said in disapproving tones, "A Mr. Malcolm Douglas asking to speak to you, Mr. Dunbridge."
Everyone there turned to look at the man who had followed Bennett into the room. He was blond-haired and had a pleasant, open face. Mr. Douglas looked puzzled but smiled, and said in a Scottish brogue, "I'm afraid there's a mistake. I came to see George Dunbridge. I inquired at his manor, and they said Mr. Dunbridge was here."
"I am Nathan Dunbridge, George's son. I'm afraid my father is deceased." Nathan came forward. "Perhaps I can help you. Now is not a good time, but we could talk tomorrow if you would like to come back to the manor."
The visitor's look turned mulish. "I won't be fobbed off. I'll have my say."
Nathan suppressed his irritation. He figured it might be easier to let the man say whatever it was so he would leave. "Very well. Why was it you wished to speak to my father?"
"I am his son."