Caught off guard for the second time that night, Nathanial stared at Miss Palmer.
Thick tears stood in her eyes and a slight tremor gripped her jaw as she held his gaze. Her arms had wrapped around herself, and her hands were gripping her upper arms with such force that Nathanial felt certain she would find bruises come morning.
His heart went out to her. Nathanial could not prevent that any more than he could prevent the sun from rising. Still, he willed himself to stand his ground, remembering the tears Abigail had cried upon finding herself betrayed by Lord Mortimer.
Back then, she, too, had apologized to Nathanial, voiced her regret and asked for his forgiveness. But it had only been regret for the disappointment of her own hopes, not for betraying him.
“Very well, I forgive you,” Nathanial said, his tone flat and emotionless. “May I leave now?” His brows rose in question, in challenge, in…curiosity. Would her tears be dried that easily? Or would she fight for more?
Abigail had not.
Miss Palmer drew in a slow breath, then quickly wiped at her tears. “I cannot believe I’m crying,” she whispered as a disbelieving chuckle escaped her lips. “I barely know you, and yet…” She drew in a deep breath and then stepped toward him. “Nathanial, I’m deeply sorry because I understand now how deeply I hurt you last night. I should have told you who I was, but…”
Nathanial knew he ought to leave, that it was foolish of him to stay and give her the chance to lie to him again. Still, his feet would not move. “Then why didn’t you? You knew who I was the moment you spoke to me, did you not?”
Miss Palmer nodded. “Pierce told me that you were accompanying him to the masquerade.” A smile teased her lips. “I instantly decided I needed to go as well and so I sent a message to Caroline, to Miss Hawkins.”
Leave! Now! His mind urged, afraid of the warmth that teased his heart at her words. And yet, Nathanial stayed. “Why?” he gritted out.
Her dark eyes lingered on his for a long moment. “Because I wanted to see you.”
Nathanial swallowed. “Why?” Suspicion rang in his voice, and yet, there was no reasonable foundation for it, or was there?
Of course, Nathanial had become aware of the whispers and stares that followed Miss Palmer whenever she made an appearance somewhere. It reminded him of his brother’s letters. As an American, Zach had not been welcomed into English society with open arms, either. Nathanial, too, felt their cautious looks on occasion, trying to gauge his worth, to determine whether or not he would fit into their midst.
The verdict on Miss Palmer’s exclusion, however, was definite and final. Was that why she was pursuing him? Was she hoping for a proposal, knowing an English gentleman would never dare make her his wife? Was that why she had kissed him?
Nathanial gritted his teeth, hating that the memory of their moment together was now tainted with betrayal and falsehood.
“What was her name?” Miss Palmer asked, something knowing lurking in her warm, brown gaze as she moved closer.
Nathanial swallowed, unsettled by the familiarity that had no right to linger between them. “Pardon me?”
“The woman you were to marry, what was her name?”
Shocked by her words, Nathanial felt his hands ball into fists. “Who told you?”
“Does it matter?”
Nathanial glared at her. “I’d appreciate it if you would refrain from addressing me in the future.” Then he made to stride past her.
Miss Palmer, however, stepped in his path. “I’m not her,” she told him, those dark eyes of hers once more looking at him as though they had known each other forever. “I did not betray you. Yes, I…withheld the truth, and I’m sorry for that.” When he opened his mouth to object, she lifted a hand to stop him. “I did nothing to warrant this kind of distrust. It was her, not me.”
Always had Nathanial been a reasonable man, and thus he could not fail to acknowledge that her words made sense. They also rang true. Still… “Why did you not tell me who you were?”
Her eyes moved and the expression upon her face changed, became more relaxed, relieved even. “When we first met at Pembroke Hall,” she began, her voice kind and companionable as though she truly were speaking to a friend, “you had that same distrust in your eyes I see tonight. But at the masquerade, when I came to your rescue, you…did not.” A slow smile teased her lips, and her eyes shone with open delight. “I could see that your heart was open, that you looked at me and wanted to see someone who cared. You cannot deny that you liked me last night.”
Indeed, Nathanial could not deny it. He had liked her, but would it be wise to admit to it? Would it not make him vulnerable? Give her power over him? After all, he still did not know why she was pursuing him so relentlessly? “I did…like you.” Nathanial was no man for falsehoods, not even in his own defense.
He never had been.
And he had paid for it dearly.
Still, a man needed to stand by his principles, did he not?
“Perhaps that made it worse,” Miss Palmer remarked, a thoughtful look upon her face. “You opened your heart…and now you feel betrayed again.” Sadness stood in her eyes. “It gives you reason to shut others out. But if you do, you’ll also never experience moments like last night.” The memory of their shared moment lingered upon her face, and Nathanial could not help but feel that she, too, savored it.
“Why did you not tell me?” he asked, afraid his heart would open to her once again should he not give it reason enough to be cautious.
“I was afraid you would not speak to me if you knew who I was,” Miss Palmer replied without a moment’s hesitation. But did that mean she was being honest? The sad reality was that Nathanial no longer trusted himself to tell a lie from the truth. “I was afraid that you would turn around and walk away.”
“Why would you care?” Bitterness clung to Nathanial’s words; even he knew that. “I am no one to you.”
Miss Palmer looked at him then in a way no one ever had before. There was something in her gaze that made him squirm, that made him want to run away, afraid she might be able to see to his core…and find him lacking. As Abigail had. “That’s not true.” Her words were soft-spoken, but rang with a vehemence that almost knocked Nathanial off his feet. “We may not know each other well, but you’re not no one to me. I said that I wanted to be your friend, and I meant it.”
Staring down at her, Nathanial was overcome with a strange and altogether unfamiliar emotion: longing. He wanted what she was offering. He wanted her to be his friend. He wanted to trust her. To confide in her. To have someone who cared about him.
Nathanial’s life had become lonely after Zach had left for England two years ago. Then he had lost Abigail and, with her, his place in the world. Everything was different now, looked different, felt different as though he had gone to sleep and woken up in a world not his own.
“How can I trust you?” Nathanial asked, knowing how vulnerable that question alone made him. “You chose to lie when you could have simply spoken the truth.” Deep down, Nathanial knew that his insistence was nothing more than a test. He needed to see if she would be offended by his words, if she would lose patience with him, if she would turn and walk away.
Or would she stand and fight through his stubbornness?
Nathanial’s heart leaped with joy when he saw the corner of her mouth turn into a wicked smile. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you failed to identify yourself as well.” Her brows rose in a teasing challenge. “Why did you not simply give me your name and ask for mine?”
Nathanial shrugged. “It was a masquerade.”
Her smile broadened, and he realized that he had just weakened his own argument. “Precisely.”
“But you knew who I was while I did not know who you were,” he insisted stubbornly.
Miss Palmer crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes narrowing as she regarded him. “And at no point did you have an inkling that it could be me? Am I so forgettable?”
Nathanial did not know how to reply. Had he offended her? Or was she toying with him? “I did not know.”
“But I promised to be your friend, did I not?” Miss Palmer stated. “Did you not expect to see me again?”
Nathanial sighed. “People make promises all the time, but only keep very few. I know what you said at Pembroke Hall, but I admit I did not believe you. And then the days passed and−”
A luminous smile claimed Miss Palmer’s face. “Did you want me to reach out to you?”
Nathanial’s teeth ground together, forbidding him from answering.
“Well, be that as it may, but I did reach out to you.” Again, her brows rose, her brown eyes looking into his. “At the masquerade. I came for you. I told you that my father called me Charlie, did I not?”
Indeed, she had. “But what of your accent?”
“What of yours?” she fired back.
Nathanial ignored her just reasoning. “I would have recognized you in an instant had you−”
“Why should I make all the effort?” Miss Palmer demanded, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “In a friendship, both sides give and take.”
Nathanial frowned. “Are you toying with me?”
Miss Palmer laughed, then took a step toward him, her watchful eyes lingering on his. “Why don’t you ask me what it is you truly wish to know?”
Nathanial tensed. “I did.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Of course, I did.”
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t.”
Nathanial threw up his hands. “Then why don’t you tell me what you think I wish to know?”
A slow smile curled up the corners of his mouth, and Nathanial felt his breath lodge in his throat even before she had spoken a single word. “You’re wondering why I kissed you, of course.”