Hester ran a hand over yet another length of silk, marvelling at its sheen. All about her bolts of material lay stacked neatly on long shelves, line after line of satins and muslin in every colour imaginable. They gleamed like jewels as she looked around the warehouse, from floor to ceiling piled high with the spoils of the Honeywell Trading Company.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it. There must be miles of fabric in here.’
‘Most likely. Worth thousands of pounds, too.’
There was a touch of quiet pride in Nathaniel’s voice, and she turned to see him surveying his domain with a satisfaction that made her smile.
‘I can well imagine. It’s certainly an impressive display.’
‘Our customers think so, at least. We supply almost every dressmaker from here to Aberdeen, including those in service to the palace.’
Hester’s lips curved. ‘My gowns are made from the same cloth as Maria Fitzherbert’s? A worthy claim indeed.’
Nathaniel raised a brow, although a glint of humour sparkled. ‘Princess Charlotte’s, you mean. Royalty is a slightly more fitting comparison for you than an infamous mistress.’
Hester snorted. The unladylike sound was muffled by the countless rolls of expensive brocade and silk, and she wondered again how many filled the warehouse in which she now stood—the first of three the company owned. Since their arrival in London that morning Nathaniel had been her guide to the world of business, shedding light on things that had been a mystery and answering questions that at one time she would never have dared ask.
She spun slowly, drinking in the dazzling scene like a child in a confectioner’s shop. ‘It’s wonderful. The colours are so beautiful—I could tarry in here all day.’
Nathaniel had the grace to look modest, but Hester could tell he was pleased. His great-grandfather’s trading empire was the Honeywell inheritance, after all. He might be coming to feel something for her now, but there could be no mistake: the business was still important to him and a shadow of the unease she’d felt as they knelt before his bedroom fire returned, reminding her not to forget it.
And he still hasn’t been entirely honest with me, Hester thought reluctantly as she watched Nathaniel inspect a heavy roll of damask. Even after our night together he still hasn’t told me the truth of what he and Mr Morrow were discussing that day in the hall. If he still has secrets, how am I to completely give him my trust?
It was an uncomfortable question, and one she tried to lay aside. Surely by now Nathaniel had done enough to earn her faith, something she wanted so badly to give him? He’d shown her he could be kind, and now that they shared a bed she ached to allow him the full keeping of her heart—almost, but not quite, ready to take that final leap.
‘I’d like to say we can stay here that long, but I’m afraid I need to visit the office.’ Nathaniel slid the damask onto a shelf and leaned back to approve its placement. ‘There are some papers that require my signature, and frankly I’m not sure I’d trust you left in here alone.’
Pretending offence, Hester lifted her chin. ‘And why not?’
‘Because you seem to be even more of a magpie than I realised. I’ve seen how you admire all those satins, and I’m very much afraid I might return to find you wearing half of next year’s profits.’ The glitter in Nathaniel’s eye grew brighter and Hester’s narrowed in response. ‘I hope you’ll leave your newfound treasure without a scene. I’d hate to have to chase you back to the carriage...’
She was on her guard at once. ‘Are you saying that if I wanted to stay a while longer, perhaps until I had inspected every single silk, I couldn’t? And that if I ran you would chase me?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’
‘I see...’ Hester frowned as if seriously contemplating her next move. ‘I foresee a problem.’
‘Oh? What is that?’
‘I’m significantly faster than you.’
She darted away, slipping like an eel down one of the shelf-lined aisles, her spirits lifting at Nathaniel’s laugh. The sound of quick footsteps at her back spurred her on, and Hester picked up her skirts to outpace her hunter.
There was nobody else in the warehouse. If there had been, there was no way she would have behaved so childishly. Probably it was unbecoming for a well-bred young lady to be flitting about with her hem flapping about her ankles, but all Hester could feel was the sudden lightness that came with being truly alive—and what was more, she had Nathaniel to thank for it.
‘You’re only making things more difficult for yourself, Hester.’
Ducking round a corner, Hester tried to catch her breath. Nathaniel didn’t sound tired in the slightest, whereas her heart fluttered and her shoulders rose and fell with effort. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d run anywhere and, being in such poor condition, it was no surprise when she felt an arm come around her waist.
‘Well? What will you do now?’
Nathaniel’s low murmur in her ear made Hester’s legs weaken at once. His lips almost touched her skin, each word sending a shiver through her as she turned in his grasp to look up into his face.
‘I don’t know. Negotiate for my release, I suppose.’
A slow grin spread across Nathaniel’s face—slightly wolfish—and Hester felt herself stir.
‘As victor, I believe I should set the terms.’
‘What would you suggest?’
He didn’t answer. Instead Hester swallowed a gasp as Nathaniel leaned down to find her mouth, leading her into a kiss more gentle than his wicked smile threatened. His arm tightened at her waist, drawing her closer until she could feel the hard lines of his body pressed against hers, his desire for her shamelessly obvious.
With commendable effort Hester drew back, although still she swayed in the circle of Nathaniel’s arms. ‘You don’t mean...? Not here?’
He met her gaze, something in it so hungry that her blood burned until he breathed a shaky sigh.
‘No. One of the men could walk in at any moment...more’s the pity.’
To Hester’s disappointment he slackened his grip, although some measure of that animal longing remained as he held out his hand.
‘Perhaps we could call in at Areton Street before I return to work. I think those papers might be able to wait a little while longer.’
Hester’s throat dried at the implication, but she merely nodded, taking Nathaniel’s elbow as though he hadn’t just set her pulse alight and allowing him to lead the way to the door. Outside in the bleak February mist their carriage stood waiting, the horses tossing their heads impatiently as Nathaniel handed Hester inside and she settled herself against the comfortably upholstered seat.
Nathaniel climbed in behind her and seated himself likewise, standing briefly to knock on the roof in a signal to the driver. The horses lunged forward eagerly, throwing Hester back roughly in her seat as the carriage lurched into motion—all the flimsy excuse Nathaniel needed, it would seem, to move to sit beside her.
Hester smiled down at her lap as she felt a strong arm snake along the back of her seat. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d think you paid the horses to do that. How many sugar lumps was the bribe?’
‘I beg your pardon? Can’t a man want to prevent his wife from taking a fall without being accused of an ulterior motive?’
‘Some men, yes. I’m not so sure about you specifically.’
Anything else she might have said was cut off by the delightful sensation of a hand at the nape of her neck. It crept beneath her bonnet, finding an unwary curl and winding it round gentle fingers.
‘Always so suspicious...’ Nathaniel toyed with the ringlet, his lips once again close to her ear. With one casual move he reached for the window, Hester’s heart leaping as he drew down the blind.
‘Although in this case, with good reason.’
Only when the carriage rolled to a halt did Hester come up for air, cheeks flushed and bonnet askew in the most telling manner possible. Nathaniel’s kisses had made her dizzy, and he looked a little dazed himself as he ran a hand through his hair and retrieved his hat from where it had rolled beneath the seat.
‘We’re here.’
Hester smoothed down her gown and pulled her red cloak closer about her shoulders. Her hands were less than steady, and she didn’t resist when Nathaniel carefully straightened her bonnet for her, tweaking the ribbons under her chin like a nursemaid with an unruly charge.
‘Will I do?’
‘Perfectly. The image of a respectable lady.’
‘Despite your best efforts.’
She heard Nathaniel’s dark chuckle behind her as the carriage door opened and she alighted onto the pavement, hoping her lips didn’t look as scalded as they felt. Her breath still came shorter than she liked and one look at Nathaniel only made things worse, the air between them charged and crackling as he took her arm to help her up the steps.
Nathaniel’s house in Areton Street was smaller than Shardlow but situated in one of the most fashionable parts of London, its pristine frontage and tall, gleaming windows echoing the tasteful interior. Hester had only visited once before, a few months after her wedding, but so unhappily the place had done little to recommend itself. Now, however, everything was different. Her opinion of the elegant house had improved along with her regard for its master, and as they stood in the hall Hester already felt quite at home.
Arless came forward to take her cloak and bonnet and Hester thanked her with a smile, although she had barely an ounce of attention to spare from Nathaniel’s presence at her back. Even without touching she could feel him on her skin, the desire to curve towards him a magnetic pull that only the entrance of the butler made waver.
‘Good afternoon, ma’am.’ He offered Hester a handsome bow before turning to Nathaniel, arm outstretched for his coat. ‘Allow me to take that. I wonder if you know, sir, that Mr Honeywell is waiting for you in the parlour. He has been for some time.’
Hester’s stomach plummeted. Mr Honeywell was in this house? His timing could hardly have been worse. It was something it seemed Nathaniel felt likewise, as he muttered a quiet curse Hester was glad she couldn’t quite hear.
‘Did you expect your father today?’
‘No. It seems he has decided to call on us unannounced.’
Fighting the temptation to point out that Nathaniel had been known to commit the same crime himself, Hester gathered her nerve. Seeing her dour father-in-law was never a prospect she relished, and after Nathaniel’s rash action the night of the ball she feared a scene even more awkward than normal.
But she wasn’t to be cowed by a man’s displeasure—and most definitely not by one who had interfered in her marriage.
‘Never mind. Let’s go in. We shouldn’t keep a guest waiting.’
Leaving Nathaniel no time to reply—or for her courage to fail—Hester straightened her shoulders and sailed down the corridor to the parlour. Opening the door, she saw Mr Honeywell standing at one window, and caught the instantaneous tightening of his face as he turned and watched her enter the room.
‘Good afternoon, sir. I hope you haven’t been kept too long.’ She dipped a curtsey in civil greeting, perversely amused to see his annoyance increase at being forced to respond.
‘Hester. I wasn’t aware you were here.’
Mr Honeywell’s disapproving eye fell on his son as Nathaniel appeared on the threshold behind her, and she was sure she felt both men tense. Trapped in the middle, there was only one way for her to go, and Hester seized it with both hands.
She waved towards the comfortable-looking sofas as though she’d lived in the house all her life rather than having arrived only that morning. ‘Won’t you sit down? Tea will be along shortly.’
To set an example Hester took a seat, a glimmer of relief passing through as Mr Honeywell and Nathaniel did the same—albeit on opposite sides of the room and with the wariness of two circling lions. A taut atmosphere descended, some unspoken tension between father and son that neither seemed willing to break.
‘Nathaniel invited me to accompany him here to London and I was delighted to accept,’ Hester cut in smoothly, affecting not to have noticed that the temperature of the room seemed to have dropped below freezing. ‘I’ve had a tour of the first warehouse already this morning and enjoyed myself immensely.’
Mr Honeywell’s already forbidding frown grew deeper. ‘The warehouses are not intended as entertainment,’ he replied coldly, making Hester feel as though icy water dripped down her spine. ‘Especially when Nathaniel ought to be working hard to catch up on what he missed two nights ago.’
Beside her on the sofa Nathaniel bristled, and only just in time Hester managed to stop herself from laying a hand on his arm. ‘Entertainment was not the intention,’ she countered mildly. ‘I was interested to better understand what the company trades in, and now I know.’
Her father-in-law’s lips thinned. Clearly he wasn’t keen on something—either the idea of Hester invading his kingdom or the fact that she spoke against him, but Nathaniel stole any chance for her to find out which caused the most offence.
‘Was there something you wished to speak with me about, sir?’ Nathaniel rested one expensive boot on the opposite knee, so carefully casual Hester knew he felt anything but. ‘Something specific that couldn’t wait until I had returned to the office?’
‘Yes.’
Mr Honeywell ventured that far and no further, pausing to flick Hester a cool glance. It was clearly her cue to leave; instead of meekly exiting her own parlour as she would have once, however, she politely averted her eyes, gazing out of the window to give Nathaniel and his father the illusion of privacy.
If Mr Honeywell wanted to call in with no warning that was his choice—but he wouldn’t chase her out with his bad temper...something he seemed to realise when she didn’t move.
‘I’ve had word from one of our suppliers in Spain. They have a new variety of fine lace that I think will suit very well for next season, provided we can fetch it back to England in time.’
Out of the corner of her eye Hester saw Nathaniel nod. ‘I read the letter. Is there a problem?’
‘No. The voyage is mostly arranged already. The only thing to settle on is the exact date you and the crew will depart. I want that decided today.’
It took a second for Nathaniel to realise what his father had said. The sharp turn of Hester’s head was the first warning sign, and it helped the pieces fall into place.
‘I’m sorry. Did you say when I will depart?’
At Mr Honeywell’s curt nod Nathaniel sat forward. ‘I’ve only been back for two months. Surely you wouldn’t expect me to go to sea again so soon—or indeed at all, given what happened last time?’
He watched his father’s expression darken, sure his own must be following suit. He had no way of knowing how similar they looked at that moment—two faces set and each man determined not to be bested by the other. On the very edge of his field of vision he could just make out Hester, sitting very still, no doubt waiting with bated breath to hear what would come next.
Nathaniel pressed on. ‘No other company sends a partner on every voyage. I don’t feel it’s necessary for me to be present on this one.’
‘Someone needs to keep a close eye on the goods. That much is essential.’ Mr Honeywell’s countenance didn’t soften and his chilly stare held no emotion at all. ‘I’d go myself, as I always did, but with this cursed cane I’m too unsteady on my feet to weather the rough seas. I confess to some disappointment that you appear afraid to take my place.’
Impatience flooded Nathaniel’s entire body, alongside a hit to his pride at his father’s barb. ‘It was never essential. You only insisted it was. You never really had to go away for all those months that added up to years. Nothing and nobody made you, and the company wouldn’t have fallen apart if you’d stayed at home.’
Sitting across from his father, Nathaniel felt the anger he had held on to ever since that day in the snowy shack rise all over again. A list of Mr Honeywell’s sins flashed through his mind—none of them ever atoned for or even acknowledged in any way. By following his father’s example Nathaniel had hurt Hester beyond endurance, and now it seemed history was beckoning him to repeat it.
‘Mother is left alone so often I think she has become numb to it. But I don’t imagine it was easy for her, especially when you could so easily have stayed.’
He felt Hester draw a little further into the sofa at his side, but he didn’t take his eye from his father’s rigid face. The cool detachment he saw there was fading fast, replaced by growing temper like the sky clouding before a storm.
‘Why are you bringing your mother into this? What relevance does she have to this conversation?’
Mr Honeywell’s voice crackled with restrained ire, the lash of it making Hester visibly uneasy. Nathaniel’s fingers itched to reach for her hand, but he resisted, unwilling to pull her into his father’s line of fire.
‘I seek merely to illustrate a point. You are gone for long stretches at a time, and have never stopped to consider the consequences or whether it was even worthwhile. I’ve given the same thing much thought since my return, and I have decided I won’t sail again.’
He sat back, resolutely refusing to let his aggravation show even as his heart leapt savagely. Once he would have agreed to his father’s demands without question, but with Hester within touching distance for the first time Nathaniel felt he had something to lose. They were just starting to discover each other, finally setting out together in a marriage that might turn out to be more than a practicality...perhaps even something more precious than the finest Spanish lace.
Still, he couldn’t pretend it was an easy choice. It went against his every instinct, and the tiniest thread of doubt wended its way through the tapestry of his decision, tainting his certainty. For years the Honeywell Trading Company had been the love of his life and it was difficult to think otherwise—even if it seemed that title might now be claimed by Hester, the only rival for his heart the business had ever had.
The air in the parlour grew heavy with oppressive silence. The clock on the mantel ticked away and a fire curled in the grate, but none of the three people moved until Mr Honeywell rose stiffly.
‘It seems you are not yourself this morning. Another disappointment.’ He looked down at Nathaniel, the knuckles at the handle of his cane shining white with strain. ‘I have meetings now, and more again later. Call on me tomorrow to conclude the business we should have finished today.’
‘There’s no need. I’ve made my feelings plain.’
‘Your feelings? Yes.’
Mr Honeywell glanced at Hester with distaste, Nathaniel’s hackles rising in response.
‘As I said. Call tomorrow. I would talk with you alone.’
Nathaniel got to his feet, but his father was already moving for the door. It opened as he reached it and a maid carrying a laden tray entered, shrinking back against the wall as Mr Honeywell barged past as though she wasn’t even there.
Standing in the middle of the parlour, Nathaniel watched his father’s retreating back, an unhappy mix of emotions welling up inside him. The young maid hesitated in the doorway, only coming forward when he forced a smile.
‘I apologise. My father can be careless at times.’
She set the tray down and left, leaving Nathaniel and Hester alone. Still fixed on the open door, he didn’t see Hester get up, and the soft brush of her hand against his made him start.
‘Nathaniel?’
Turning, he saw concern in her pale face that made him run a weary hand over his own. ‘I rather wish you hadn’t seen that.’
‘I’m sorry. Perhaps I should have left the room when it was clear your father wanted me to, but in truth I didn’t care to give him the satisfaction.’
‘No. You did well. He’s far too used to people jumping to obey his every whim.’
Including me, Nathaniel finished grimly as he returned to the sofa and dropped heavily onto it. He’d won this skirmish but worse was to come, their meeting tomorrow sure to be unpleasant whether his father got his way or not. Already a weight had begun to settle in his gut, only growing as Hester came to sit beside him.
She looked down at her hands, clasped neatly on her lap, apparently searching for the right way to begin. He knew what was coming, although that didn’t make it any more welcome when the inevitable question arrived.
‘Have you really decided not to sail?’
Somewhere deep inside he felt a twinge at the faint hope in her voice, but Nathaniel nodded slowly. ‘As I said, it was never really necessary. My father’s obsessive desire for control over every aspect of the business meant he supervised every voyage and then expected the same from me. I suppose it should have occurred to me much earlier that there was no real need for it, but at the time the company overshadowed everything else in my life and I had no reason to ask questions.’
He rubbed his forehead. A slight ache was gathering behind it—perhaps the pressure of too many thoughts inside his skull. On the one hand the Honeywell Trading Company demanded his unwavering devotion, while on the other hand sat Hester, and it was a novel thing, once unthinkable, to acknowledge which way he wanted to lean.
‘I don’t want to be the kind of person he is. I’m not sure it reflects well on a man to be leaving his wife alone so much and for so little reason.’
‘I see.’ Hester still examined her fingers, only the slightest hint of colour in her cheeks betraying whatever she was feeling. ‘An admirable sentiment, but I wouldn’t want to be the cause of any rift with your father. I don’t ask you to choose.’
‘I’m aware of that. Any choice is mine alone.’
‘And the one you’ve made is to stay at home? With me?’
‘Yes. I promise.’
There could be no going back now he’d said it out loud. The die had been cast and any hesitations and torn loyalties would have to be swallowed or denied, no matter how they sat heavy as a stone in Nathaniel’s stomach. He’d declared his feelings for Hester as clearly as he dared while the spectre of his secrets still hovered, casting an invisible barrier between them that meant he could never truly let her in.
She might not be so keen for me to stay if she knew how badly I was tainted, but I owe her my active presence in our marriage, and to make the effort to heal the damage I did before.
The vow wasn’t quite enough to completely chase away his unease, but it was the best Nathaniel could do. With Hester sitting so close it was difficult to concentrate, anyway, and he found himself reaching for her before he even knew he’d moved.
‘I hope you won’t mind my hanging around Shardlow, getting under your feet. When will you go back? I need to stay in London a while longer, but you’re welcome to return home if you’d like.’
‘Tired of my company already?’
Hester raised an eyebrow, although Nathaniel caught a whisper-soft sigh as his fingers traced the veins at her wrist.
‘Trying to get rid of me when I’ve only just arrived?’
‘Never. I just thought...given my father’s proximity...’
‘He doesn’t frighten me. Perhaps once I wasn’t so brave, but I find now things are different.’
Nathaniel could well believe it. ‘So I’ve realised. I almost feel sorry for him if you’ve made up your mind to stand your ground.’
She met his eye, the quiet determination he saw there more admirable than she knew.
‘The very last thing I want in all the world is more conflict. I understand how important the company is to him, and to you, and I never want to come in between—but I won’t allow him to make me feel the way I did five years ago ever again. I’m not a young girl any longer and your father holds no sway over me now.’
Beneath his fingertips Nathaniel felt the unhurried beat of Hester’s pulse and wondered if she could tell how his had stepped up. It was almost a declaration of war and he had to question, if the worst were to happen and his father decided to cross her again, which side would be victorious.
It was impossible to call.