Chapter 31

Scouring the gardens by lantern light was proving to be as frustrating as it was fruitless, for Lord Shilbottle's gardens were extensive—obnoxiously so, in Nathaniel's opinion. The four members of the search party had been forced to split up to try and cover more ground, and now and again, he could hear one of them muttering in exasperation. If Leah was out there, she had hidden herself well. Either that, or she was in no condition to call for help.

She will freeze to death, Nathaniel's mind raced, his heart fluttering in panic, for even he was beginning to shiver… and she had been outside for much longer.

He was just about to retreat back to the terrace to get a lay of the land, figuring out where to search next, when panting breaths whipped his head toward a high wall of hedge. A dark figure burst out from an archway in the foliage, running fast on skinny legs.

Without thinking, Nathaniel's fists came up, ready to fight. "Who goes there?"

"It is… me," came a strangled voice, the figure slowing as he neared.

"Colin?" Nathaniel immediately folded his arms behind his back. "What are you doing, running around the gardens like that?"

Colin waved a hand, stooping to catch his breath. "I came… to… find you. I was… out by the… western potting sheds. I saw… Leah, and thought… I saw you with… her." He banged on his chest. "But it… was not you. I think… she is in trouble, so… I ran to fetch help. But I could… not find you. Then, Daniel… told me you had come out into the gardens… with a lantern. He did not… understand why, but I did. So… here I am. I would have… tried to help Leah myself, but… have you seen me? He would flatten me."

Robin, perched on Colin's shoulder, made a mournful sound.

"Who would?"

Colin stood to his full height, wheezing a little. "The man… who was with her. The one from the… botanical gardens. I cannot recall his name, for he is… not a plant."

"Where were they?" Terror gripped Nathaniel's heart in a frozen fist.

"At the far… edge of the terrace. That way." Colin pointed vigorously, and Nathaniel took off without another word.

Sprinting as if his life depended upon it, which in some ways it did, he followed the low wall that bordered the terrace, deciding to use the element of surprise. If he did not, and Jonathan saw him approaching, he feared that the scoundrel might do something to hurt Leah.

Minutes later, Nathaniel spotted them… and his worst fears were realized. Jonathan had Leah cornered, pressed back against a wall of boxwoods, his hands gripping her arms. And the wretch seemed to be leaning in as if he meant to either butt her forehead with his or kiss her.

Putting all the strength he possessed into his legs, Nathaniel leaped and grabbed the lip of the low wall, vaulting over it no more than ten paces from where Jonathan and Leah stood. He closed those last ten paces in a heartbeat, his fist curling around the back of Jonathan's collar, yanking the cretin so hard that a strangled yelp cut through the air. In his shock, Jonathan let go of Leah while Nathaniel circled his arm around Jonathan's neck, pulling him backward until there was a safe distance between that viper and Leah.

Bubbling with a fury unlike any he had ever experienced, Nathaniel released the choking hold and shoved Jonathan into the manor wall. As Jonathan tried to recover, Nathaniel walked right up to him until he was as close as Jonathan had been to Leah not a moment ago.

"You were warned," Nathaniel growled. "You were told not to go near my future wife again, yet you have defied me not once but twice."

Jonathan cowered, putting up his hands to try and cover his face. "She asked me to meet with her. She is the seductress!"

"That is not true!" Leah shouted though she did not approach.

"I detest liars," Nathaniel hissed, "almost as much as I detest gentlemen who do not keep a promise. But do you know what I loathe more than anything?"

Jonathan shook his head feebly.

"I loathe gentlemen who would try to force a kiss upon a woman," Nathaniel seethed. "And not just any woman, but the woman I love. Is this supposed to be revenge, Jonathan? If it is, I should warn you, you have been marked."

Fear widened Jonathan's eyes to the whites, his hands trembling as he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I have encountered the sort of men who make your attempts at revenge and deceit look like a child's game," Nathaniel replied coolly. "Some of them are acquaintances of mine. Acquaintances who owe me several favors. And as my last warning was obviously too gentle, allow me to give you another. If you strike against my family, if you strike against Leah, if you strike against anyone I care about in any way, and that includes petty tales in the scandal sheets, you will find yourself looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. A short life, probably."

He did not mean a word of it, not really, but he needed Jonathan to believe it. He needed Jonathan to understand that he would do whatever it took to keep the people he loved safe. Considering the terror in Jonathan's eyes, it seemed he understood, loud and clear.

"That means, in case it is not obvious, you are not to come within a ballroom's length of Leah again for any reason. You do not speak to her, look at her, mention her name, or your poor wife shall have to find another husband," Nathaniel added for good measure, "and though she might delight in that, I trust you will be sensible this time. Those men are waiting for my word. It is up to you if I send for them or not."

Jonathan had turned a deathly pale, his entire body quaking. "F-Forgive me," he stuttered. "Do n-not send for them. I w-will stay away, I swear it."

"Ensure that you do, for if you do not heed this warning, there will not be another," Nathaniel said, taking a step back. "Now, go. Fetch your wife and leave this manor so that the rest of us may enjoy what is left of our evening."

Jonathan did not need to be told twice. Stumbling and swaying as if he might faint, he took off along the terrace, not stopping until he vanished into the house. And though Nathaniel could not be certain that the wretch would heed the warning this time, he knew that Jonathan would be looking over his shoulder for a long while, even if no one was following.

And I did not need to raise a fist, he realized, pleased by the notion.

"Are you not a hypocrite?" Leah's voice turned his head. She walked hesitantly forward, shaking with a violence that led him to shed his tailcoat.

He hurried toward her, putting the tailcoat around her shoulders, his hands rubbing her arms to coax some heat into them. He did not stop to think that she might not want him to touch her; he just wanted her to be warm. "A hypocrite?" he asked, worried. "In what regard?"

"You said you detested liars, but you lied to him," Leah said, her teeth chattering.

"Of course, he will come to no real harm, but I could not let him know that," Nathaniel replied, wondering how hard she would slap him if he tried to embrace her, to share his body's warmth with her.

She shook her head. "That is not the lie I meant. I mean the lie about me being your future wife. You made your opinion very clear when we last spoke to one another."

"That version of me was trying to make a noble sacrifice," he explained with a shy smile. "That version of me was an idiot."

She squinted up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Might I ask something first?"

"I cannot stop you."

Nathaniel took a breath. "You did not want to be kissed, did you?"

"By him?" She pulled a disgusted face. "If you think that is funny, you ought to visit a library, read through every book you can find on humor, and realize your mistake immediately."

Nathaniel sighed in relief. "What about by me?"

"That is a matter I do not wish to speak about," she muttered. "Now, let us return to the question at hand. Why did you lie? You realize that by saying such a thing, you have made it twice as hard to break the news of our ended courtship."

He smiled. "Then, perhaps it would be best for everyone if we just forgot about it."

"You have already instructed me to do that," she retorted, pouting a little. "And I will do it, but I thought I ought to let you stew awhile first."

Nathaniel gently turned her head, urging her to look at him again. "That is not what I meant."

"Well, speak plainly! Do not talk in riddles, and perhaps I will understand you." She folded her arms across her chest, raising a haughty eyebrow. "Goodness, were you always so… so… infuriating?"

He laughed softly. "I love you, Leah."

Leah gasped, her mouth falling open, her arms dropping limply to her sides.

"Was that plain enough, or should I continue?" He did so regardless, explaining the reason he had tried to sever the courtship after they kissed on the balcony. He told her of his fears for his mother and brother and for her and how society might judge her if they thought she was to marry a common brawler with a father who had done terrible, terrible things and been murdered for it. "But being without you has taught me that I cannot be," he concluded. "I might be scared, I might not know if I shall be any good at this, but… I want to find out, if you will have me."

Leah kept staring at him, her mouth moving slightly as if trying to formulate a sentence before it spilled from her lips. Yet, as the minutes passed, no words came out. He worried if she might have frozen solid, her mouth too numb to speak, but as something delicate and white landed on her cheek, it startled her out of her trance.

"You… really were protecting me," she whispered, squinting her eyes as if everything had suddenly fallen into place. "Of course, you should have told me, so I could have told you that I did not care what society thought as long as I had you, but I suppose blind chivalry leaves no room for that, does it?"

Nathaniel winced. "You are still angry with me…"

"Angry? I am livid!" Leah shot back. "I have been tormenting myself for weeks, wondering what I did wrong, wondering what changed your mind, wondering if I was just imagining that you felt something for me, wondering why on Earth you kissed me and then shunned me, wondering if you were just a scoundrel all along, like Jonathan. Had I known all of this, I could have spared myself, and my poor bed, a fortnight of tossing and turning! You, Nathaniel, are a prize dolt!"

He mustered a hopeful smile. "I am. I cannot deny it." But his smile faded as he added, "When my father was alive, I grew so accustomed to shielding my mother and brother by myself, taking the burden onto my own shoulders. I suppose I never grew out of it. Do you… think you can forgive a fool?"

"I never wanted this," Leah replied, tears shining in her eyes. "When we began this, I thought it would be so easy because our objectives were aligned. I… never wanted to fall in love with you. Why did you have to steal my heart like that?"

The flame in his chest burst into an inferno, his hopes so high that it would be a fatal blow if he fell. "Because I am a wretched thief," he said, laughing awkwardly. "Indeed, I must be a terrible thief because I did not steal it very expertly, fumbling it too many times. Why, I did not even know I had stolen it until now. I thought I had dropped it somewhere along the way, never to be recovered by me."

"You should be more careful," Leah said, the ghost of a smile upon her lips.

Nathaniel paused. "And you really do not love Jonathan?"

"Nathaniel, I shall smack you quite hard if you ever say that again. I might not have a horde of dastardly acquaintances at my beck and call, but I have four friends who shall plague you with minor inconveniences." It looked like she was about to laugh as she hit him lightly on the arm. "I never loved Jonathan. I have never known what love is at all until you."

Nathaniel brought his hand to her cheek, cradling it. "So, I am forgiven? Shall we forget my ridiculous decision to end this courtship?"

"You left it in my hands, remember?"

He nodded. "I remember. It is still in your hands."

"Maybe, I shall let you stew even longer," she murmured, smiling.

"I would deserve it."

She pressed her palm to his chest, feeling his heart beating. "No, for that would be a torment for me too." She drew in a shaky breath. "Let us forget it all, my love. Let us tear up our contract and begin again. Properly."

"Nothing would make me happier," Nathaniel told her. "But… might I seal this promise?"

She frowned. "I have no wax nor ink."

"I need neither," he whispered, bending his head. "I mean to seal it… like this."

His lips touched hers gently, his body trembling from the cold and the nerves, still fearful she might push him away and change her mind—a revenge that he would deserve, but he would not be able to bear. Slowly, he slipped his arms around her, pulling her closer as fragile flakes of snow fell around them.

And just when he thought she was not going to return his affection, she relaxed in his embrace, kissing him back with an urgency that nearly knocked him over.

He smiled against her mouth, holding her tightly, giving her his warmth as their lips moved together in a slow and hopeful dance that society would certainly have frowned upon. But there was no one there to see them, no one there to pass judgment, and even if they had been, he possessed the response to end any unkind remarks at once: he loved this woman, and one day, she would be the wife he had never known he needed but dearly wanted.

All of a sudden, Leah pulled back, her expression aghast. "Oh no."

"What? Please, do not say you have changed your mind." His heart hammered with worry.

She shook her head. "I have not, but there is one grave problem we have yet to solve."

"There is?"

Leah nodded. "My friends." She grimaced. "How on Earth am I supposed to tell my friends?"

"I do not think it will be as difficult as you think," Nathaniel said, relaxing. "So, kiss me again, and be at peace. I do believe I won back the favor of your friends before I won yours."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I encountered them. I assumed I was going to take a beating, but they listened to me, and though Matilda shall always have a healthy dislike for me, I think, the others have forgiven me," he explained. "Oh goodness… they are likely still searching for you. I did not think to tell them."

He turned to vault the wall, intending to venture back into the gardens to call off the search, but Leah pulled him back by the lapels of his waistcoat, wrapping her arms tight around him as she rose up on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his once more. And in that touch, in that promise, he melted like the snow falling around them, kissing her back like nothing else existed and nothing else mattered.

At the age of eight-and-twenty, he had found something to fight for, and though it had been the scariest fight of his life, holding the woman he loved in his arms had to be the greatest victory of them all. A prize of love that he would cherish for the rest of his days, never taking a single moment for granted.

"I love you," he whispered.

"As I love you," she whispered back, tilting up her face as a gasp escaped her lips. "When did it start snowing?"

"I do not remember," he replied, kissing her again.

For once, the London season was proving to be a fine thing indeed.