Chapter 26

CHAPTER26

“Must we do this again?” Nancy complained, trailing after Adam through the gardens. “It is hopeless! I do not imagine you could teach me to swim, even if you were a fish!”

Adam walked on, ignoring her.

She hated when he did that, though she supposed she deserved it somewhat, considering her recent avoidance of him. It had been three days since her intimate encounter with the ornamental lake, and Adam had remained true to his promise. Every day, he had marched her to the same lake, beginning the very slow process of getting her comfortable with the water. And every day, despite herself, she had progressed a little more.

“Husband!” she shouted, freezing.

Adam turned toward her. “Now, there is something new.”

“What is?”

Nancy knew exactly what, but she was not going to let him know that.

“You have never called me that before,” he said, smiling.

“I thought it might be the only way to draw your attention,” she replied, remembering her dream.

Indeed, there were times when she forgot that her dream had not been real, and that things and words had neither been done nor said, though she thought of them often.

He chuckled. “Well, it certainly did that, but it will not exempt you from today’s lesson.” He began to walk back toward her. “Must I carry you, as I have done every other day, or will you go willingly today?”

“I think you might have to carry me. My legs are too shaky,” she said, already looking forward to the sensation of being in his arms, embraced so closely.

It was the closest she could get to him, in truth, for he had not attempted to repeat their kiss.

That is my fault, for why would he want to kiss me again when I had vanished for a week after the last time?

Nancy had intended to explain that it had been partially due to the sight of that other lady and the familiar nickname, but she had not wanted to sound jealous or petulant, considering everything he had told her when they had been first getting to know one another.

But her week away from him had given her some perspective. Adam had pushed the lady away, after all.

He grinned and obeyed, sweeping her up into his arms. “I must say, it is nice to have the manor to ourselves again.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Nancy laughed. “Marina is still here and is, in fact, exceedingly bored now that you are determined to steal all of my time with this swimming nonsense.”

He shrugged. “Can she swim?”

“I believe so.”

“Well, when you have managed at least half the length of the lake without risk of drowning, perhaps she can join us. Until then, I would spare your dignity,” he teased.

She smacked him lightly on the chest. “How is your nose?”

“Destined to never be without a bruise,” he quipped. “Surprisingly, your fist was harder than your head.”

Nancy still felt guilty about butting his head with hers while he had been trying to save her life, but there was something about the bruise that made him seem more protective, as if he could fight off a horde of villains if he had to, in order to defend her honor.

They talked about everything and nothing as they continued on toward the ornamental lake, though she noticed they never touched upon the kiss or the appearance of that woman. She did not know if she was even allowed to mention such things.

“Who was that lady in the gardens?” Nancy finally asked as they cut through a garden that bloomed with wisteria and lavender and violets and thistles, aptly named The Purple Gardens.

Adam’s brow creased for a moment. “No one of any import.”

“You said that before, but I would still prefer to know who she was,” Nancy insisted.

He sighed wearily. “I do not want to upset you, Nancy, nor do I wish to speak of her. She is… a memory, nothing more.”

“Memories can be powerful things.” Nancy’s stomach churned with jealousy, her mind beginning to conjure all sorts of awful images.

Adam shook his head. “She was a passing amusement, and I was the same for her.” He grimaced. “Mustwe speak of this? You are certain?”

“It is of great importance to me.”

“So you can be convinced, once and for all, of what manner of scoundrel I am?” He sounded oddly sad, dropping his gaze as he carried her into the Red Gardens.

Nancy shook her head, lightly touching the underside of his chin to make him look at her. “I do not think you are a scoundrel, Adam. I think you are someone who carries a great burden around with them, and it takes an enormous amount of distraction to stop you from thinking of that burden.” She paused. “You said you were damaged. While I do not disagree entirely, I think it is more like you are… wounded. And you have not allowed yourself time to heal.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned at her.

“You were denied affection throughout your childhood, and you thought your mother was complicit in your father’s dastardly actions. That would have made it difficult to trust anyone, and when you learned the truth of your mother’s suffering, you must have thought that attachment—your attachment to her—was a curse. Because you were attached to her and loved her, your father was able to manipulate you with that. Even though he is dead, I do not imagine that fear has gone, that allowing yourself to become attached to someone means, inevitably, their suffering.”

Adam tried to chuckle, but it echoed hollow. “Goodness, did you hit your head when you landed in the water the other day? Where did such a detailed assessment come from?”

“I have had a long while to consider it, and though you may attempt to deflect with humor, I do not think I am mistaken,” Nancy replied. “Perhaps if your mother had been free to live her life in good health and happiness after your father’s death, you would not be carrying this burden and fear around. Instead, her health has declined, almost as if your father is still manipulating her from beyond the grave. So, as I say, you have never had the opportunity to heal.”

Adam blinked. “Mercy, you are extraordinary. I am not saying I believe you or agree with you, but you are still quite extraordinary.”

“You do not have to agree with me,” Nancy replied, smiling, “but that does not mean I am not right.”

Passing through the low archway that led into the Oriental Garden and the ornamental lake therein, Adam burst into brighter laughter, mumbling “quite extraordinary” under his breath.

“I shall take that as a compliment,” she said, grinning.

He grinned back. “Oh, you must, for it is.” He set her down at the water’s edge. “Now, enough of my dismal past. It is time for your future as a swimmer. You cannot avoid it by trying to explain the way that I am. I shall not allow it.”

“But you have not yet told me who that woman was,” Nancy protested, shuddering at the notion of wading into that icy water, though the late morning was already baking hot.

Adam removed his hessian boots. “I did tell you. She is nothing to me.”

“Youare avoiding the question,” Nancy said, already dressed in her swimming attire—an ordinary-seeming dress made of thicker material so she would be able to maintain her dignity in the water.

Her bodily dignity, at least.

Adam groaned. “If I tell you, will you go in so deep that your feet cannot touch the ground anymore?”

“I will,” she promised, hoping she would not regret it.

He peeled off his tailcoat and waistcoat, stuffing the edges of his shirt deeper into the waist of his trousers. “She is… the woman I mistook you for at the lakeside, at Lord Bainton’s ball,” he said, his voice stiff. “The stockings and the petticoat belonged to her.”

Nancy’s stomach dropped. Immediately, she wished she had not pressed the matter.

“But she is known for her promiscuity in certain circles,” Adam continued in a rush, “and has indulged in affairs with… goodness, I would say at least a quarter of Society’s gentlemen. I was not special to her, and she was not special to me. Nor did I actually indulge in anything with her.”

Nancy choked out the words, “Because it was to happen that night?”

“No. Because she was a tease, and I was becoming bored of her games,” he replied in earnest. “Why, that very night, I found her in the arms of another. It was while I was chasing Mr. Colby that I happened upon Miss Eastleigh with the poor gentleman she has recently become engaged to. A childhood acquaintance, I believe, who likely has no notion of the chaos he is marrying.”

Nancy’s throat constricted, robbing her of her ability to speak. She did not know what she had expected by asking such a question of him, nor why she had expected delving into his sordid past not to hurt. It did, badly. Her heart felt as if it was being stretched and twisted, her insides knotting into tight balls, while her skin prickled with a cold sweat.

“My dear Nancy,” Adam asked softly, coming toward her, “might I say something?”

She gave a small nod.

“I made a grave mistake when I put my arms around you that night, but I have not regretted it since, not even for a moment,” he told her, slipping his arms around her waist, and pulling her to him. “I have never cared before. I have never waited eagerly for the company of any woman. I have never felt the absence of any woman. I have never brought any woman to this manor and discovered it to be a happier place because she is here. I have never felt anything at all, not really, until you.”

Nancy rested her hands on his forearms, uncertain of whether to push him away or draw him closer. How could he be blamed for telling the truth, when she had asked him? It was she who was not ready to hear the truth, her mind too naïve to truly contemplate what he had done in his past.

He cares about you! He is telling you that you are special, and you are not listening!

She peered up at him cautiously. “You are a liar.”

“Pardon?”

She mustered her most courageous smile. “I do not believe that you have not regretted what you did that night. After all, you never wished to marry, yet you found yourself married to me.”

“And I maintain that I have no regrets.” Adam stroked his fingertips up and down the curve of her spine. “Well, perhaps I have one.”

She squinted at him. “What might that be? That you did not catch Mr. Colby?”

“Heavens, no.” He chuckled. “It is that I was not pursuing you in the first place. Or rather that we did not meet in a more ordinary fashion.”

Nancy tutted playfully. “If we had encountered one another the way people usually do, I doubt we would have spoken. My sister would have informed me of who you were, for there is little she does not know about Society, and I would have avoided you as if you were riddled with pox.” Her heart sighed, bringing her flush against him. “So, perhaps it is for the best that we met the way we did.”

“Indeed, for if we had not, you would not have learned to swim,” Adam said slyly, flashing her a wink.

Before Nancy could properly absorb his words, his hands smoothed over the swell of her buttocks and hoisted her up into his arms, just as he had done in her dream. Instinctively—or, perhaps, remembering—her legs locked around his waist, her arms looping around his neck as he carried her into the water.

“Please, do not think of Miss Eastleigh again,” he told her, the cold water rising higher.

Nancy nodded. “I promise I shall not, as long as you never mistake me for her again.”

“My darling, how could I?” he purred. “There is no one in this world like you.”