‘Where are we going?’
Nathaniel sounded slightly wary as Hester guided him down Grosvenor Street, the air once again bitingly cold and snapping at her fingertips. All around them the impatient bustle of London stretched as far as the eye could see, fashionable couples parading slowly in expensive clothes and the rattle of phaetons making it difficult for Hester to hear herself think.
‘And, while I consider, what’s in the bag?’
Hester swallowed a smile at her husband’s suspicion, holding the bag in question more tightly. ‘You’ll see soon enough. We’re almost there.’
He gave her a narrow look, although the skin around his eye creased. ‘Should I be worried?’
‘It’s difficult to say. I suppose you’ll have to wait to find out.’
They walked on, admiring the elegant houses that reared up on either side, until the wall surrounding one of the Royal Parks grew closer. Hester made directly for the gate, the grass beyond it sparkling with frost beneath hard, bright sunshine.
‘A promenade, Hester? A bit cold for pointless walking to and fro, isn’t it?’
Despite his mild objections Nathaniel turned in the direction of Kensington Gardens, the place where London’s best and brightest gathered to peacock and preen, only to look surprised when Hester instead tugged him in the opposite direction.
‘Not a promenade. Something altogether more exciting.’
‘I thought showing off to strangers was the pinnacle of amusement for young ladies?’
‘And gentlemen, I’ll thank you to remember. It has its place, but not this morning.’
Nathaniel allowed her to lead him across the grass and onwards, until at last Hester felt him stop dead.
‘Surely you’re not serious?’
The Serpentine stretched out ahead, its usually rippling surface glassy with ice so thick it glowed milky in the sun. Skaters moved effortlessly over the frozen waters, some skilled and some less so but all with faces pink with enjoyment, and the air was filled with shouts and laughter that echoed in Hester’s ears.
‘I most certainly am. Why else would I have brought these with us?’
Reaching into the bag, she pulled out a set of new metal skates and with a flourish handed them to a bewildered-looking Nathaniel. He took them without a word, turning them over as if he’d never seen anything like them before, and shot a confused glance at Hester as she retrieved a pair of her own.
‘Where did you get these? And how did you know the Serpentine was frozen?’
‘Arless told me this morning. She and a couple of the other maids went sliding on their half-day yesterday, so I crept out while you were working after breakfast to buy some skates. It took some time to track these down, but I’m glad I found them eventually.’
‘But...why? Why go to all that bother?’
Hester wrinkled her nose. ‘What do you mean, why? Because skating is fun! Don’t tell me you’ve never been before?’
Nathaniel ran his fingers over the gleaming blades, saying nothing, and Hester could have kicked herself. Of course he’d never skated. It was an entertaining but ultimately useless pastime, and the very kind of thing his father would never have allowed. As an adult it wouldn’t have occurred to Nathaniel to leave his desk and venture onto the ice, and Hester cursed herself for drawing attention to all the happiness Nathaniel had been taught to forgo.
‘I’m sorry. I thought...after what happened yesterday...perhaps you might appreciate something to take your mind off your troubles. I know you have a meeting with your father and might not be looking forward to it.’
He looked up, any sign of his misgivings fading quickly. ‘That’s very considerate of you. I appreciate the thought.’
Hester hitched her smile back into place, although she couldn’t help another twinge of guilt. Distracting Nathaniel from whatever feelings his father conjured was a prominent reason for why she had dragged him out, but not the only one. Her own thoughts were jangled and uncertain, and anything to push them from the forefront of her mind was most welcome.
The unpleasant confrontation in the parlour yesterday had left a sour taste in her mouth that even Nathaniel’s promise not to sail couldn’t completely wash away. Instead, it was that very thing which made her hesitate: try as she might, she couldn’t shake a niggling doubt that wondered if he might regret his decision, his devotion to the Honeywell Trading Company something so ingrained she feared nothing else could ever compete.
But she had to trust his word. He’d made a vow, of sorts, and she had no choice but to hold him to it and place her faith in the changes that had won him her heart—even if he wasn’t yet fully aware that he held it in his keeping.
‘So, shall we go out on the ice? I don’t pretend to be particularly good, but I feel sometimes that’s the point.’
A bench stood nearby, and Hester sat down to strap the skates to her sturdiest pair of boots. After only a breath of hesitation Nathaniel did the same, watching his wife’s example until both were balanced on thin metal blades.
‘Is this not dangerous?’
‘It can be, if the ice isn’t thick enough, but don’t worry. Diana and I skated around Thame Magna’s duck pond often as children, and I can count the number of times we fell through on one hand.’
Trying not to laugh at Nathaniel’s fleeting look of alarm, Hester took his arm and together they approached the frozen lake, moving like ungainly ducks on their skates. At the water’s edge Hester took a breath, feeling it burn in her lungs as she took first one careful step, and then another, until she stood away from the bank with nothing to reach for if she fell.
‘Are you coming?’ she called over her shoulder to Nathaniel, who was eyeing the ice dubiously. ‘The first step is the hardest, but after that I’m sure you’ll be a natural.’
She heard him mutter something under his breath, but he followed her all the same, placing his skates down gingerly like an infant learning to walk. Almost immediately he wobbled, and Hester glided back to take his hand, helping him slip away from the bank and out towards the centre of the lake.
Nathaniel’s fingers gripped hers like a vice, and in a sudden reversal of their usual dynamic he clung to her for support. The face below the brim of his hat was uncertain and Hester patted his arm. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t let go.’
‘I’m not worried.’ Nathaniel sniffed dismissively although any onlooker might be forgiven for not quite believing him. ‘I’m just finding my feet.’
With admirable determination he pushed forward, moving unsteadily, but moving all the same. A group of younger men, barely more than boys, came speeding past in a graceful curve and Nathaniel watched them go, the light of competition finally kindling in his uncovered eye.
‘Do people race on here?’
‘Sometimes. Why? Do you want to try?’
Regretfully he shook his head. ‘I think perhaps I ought to practise first. No point in trying to run before I can walk.’
‘A wise decision. Shall we start gently, with a slow lap of the lake?’
Together Hester and Nathaniel slid onwards, cutting a glittering path across the ice. The soft hiss of their skates was pleasant, and the sun illuminated the park’s beauty with brilliant clarity, but it was the feel of Nathaniel’s hand in hers that set Hester’s heart skipping like a leaf in a breeze. It felt so natural now to have him close—something she’d never dared to dream—and a cold shadow fell over her at the idea he might still change his mind and leave her alone.
Trust him, Hester. That’s all you can do.
‘What do you think? Am I a fast learner?’
Nathaniel’s grin pulled her from her fretting at once. ‘Oh, absolutely. I felt sure you’d spend all morning on the seat of your breeches, but it seems I was wrong.’
His chin lifted a little. ‘I have my suspicions that you may be humouring me.’
‘Not at all.’ Hester hid her mouth behind her hand so Nathaniel couldn’t see. ‘How can you say such a thing?’
‘Because you said that in exactly the same sort of tone my nurse used to use when I’d eaten all my vegetables.’
This time there was no hope of concealing her amusement. ‘Did I? I can only apologise. I do hope you don’t feel slighted.’
‘Slighted? No.’ Nathaniel raised a brow, and then the gleam returned to his eye to make Hester immediately on her guard. ‘Issued with a challenge? Yes.’
Before she could utter any kind of warning he let go of her hand and darted away, moving over the ice with a speed that made up for his complete lack of technique. His posture was wrong, for a start, leaning so far back Hester knew what was coming before it even happened.
‘Nathaniel! Not so quickly!’
She skated after him, drawing alongside at the precise moment he overbalanced and began to topple, grabbing wildly for something to save him as he fell—which, unfortunately for Hester, turned out to be her cloak.
They collapsed in a heap of skirts, skates and tangled limbs, mercifully accompanied by a dull thud rather than the sharp crack of breaking ice. With unintentional gallantry Nathaniel cushioned Hester’s fall, although the wheeze that escaped as she landed on his chest, knocking the air out of him, was less gentlemanly.
‘Hester...when did you get so heavy?’
She rolled to one side, freeing him, and lay for a moment to catch her breath. The ice beneath her back was hard and flat, but the sky above reached out soft periwinkle-blue, the occasional wisp of cloud like a newborn lamb frisking towards the horizon. Out of the corner of her eye Hester could see fellow skaters peering over in concern, and from somewhere inside she felt a laugh bubble up to the surface.
Turning her head, she caught sight of Nathaniel’s winded face, and the dam holding back her laughter broke completely. It rang out over the frozen water, uncontrollable despite the chill rapidly seeping in from her wet dress. She just couldn’t help it, and when Nathaniel joined in Hester wondered—vaguely, above the aching muscles in her stomach—if they would ever stop.
Eventually she managed to snatch enough air to speak. ‘What is it they say about pride coming before a fall?’
Nathaniel sat up, his chest still heaving, finally back in control. ‘Yes, but I could tell you were impressed. Don’t try to deny it.’
‘I couldn’t even if I wanted to.’
‘That’s all I wanted to hear. Let me help you up.’
He leaned over her, his shadow falling between Hester and the endless sky. His hat had come off in their tumble and her bonnet had come loose, so there would be nothing to prevent him from bending to capture her lips—something that seemed to have occurred to Nathaniel, too, as Hester saw his jaw tighten suddenly and a thrill crept down her spine that was worlds apart from the cold touch of the ice.
She watched his gaze travel from her eyes to her mouth in a scalding track that chased away the February chill. Lying on her back with Nathaniel so close conjured up memories of other occasions when they had been in just such a situation, and Hester felt heat come roaring up from her neck to colour each cheek.
But he knew the rules. Nathaniel was as well versed in stiff social etiquette as Hester, even if there was reluctance on both sides as he took her hand and helped her to her feet.
‘Your dress is soaked. You’ll catch your death out here in the cold like that.’
Still a little dazed, Hester glanced down at her damp and dirtied skirts. ‘I think you might be right. I’ll have to return home to change.’
Nathaniel nodded, brushing a few specks of ice off the brim of his hat before replacing it neatly on his head. ‘As much as I’d like to accompany you, it’s probably about time I called on my father. Let me find you a cab to take you back to Areton Street.’
At the mention of Mr Honeywell Hester’s insides clenched, although she fought hard to keep her expression clear. ‘Thank you, but I can manage. You go to see your father.’
‘Are you sure?’
Forcing a brittle smile, Hester nodded. The knot buried low in her innards twisted tighter, but there was nothing she could do to unpick it while Nathaniel stood before her, and even less when together they left the ice and removed their skates. Somehow, as Hester put them back into their bag, she felt as though she was packing away something else as well, signalling the end of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
She watched him go in silence, his broad shoulders unmistakable even from behind. As he reached the edge of the park and disappeared from view Hester swallowed down unease, the taste of it bitter and unwanted but clinging to her tongue.
It would be so easy for him to go back on his word. For all his promises, the man who had so wounded her all those years ago might still lurk beneath the surface, ready to replace this new Nathaniel she was growing to love. He’d given her little reason to worry so far, but there was always the chance that his father’s influence might prevail—and then everything they were building would lie in ruins at the feet of Nathaniel’s ambition, and her heart in pieces along with it.
The offices of the Honeywell Trading Company were just as stern and austere-looking as their owner, and Nathaniel felt himself tense as he climbed the steps. Despite the sunshine outside, the corridor that greeted him was dark, its unenthusiastic welcome mirroring the one he had come to expect from the man he was there to meet.
He tapped on a door that bore his father’s name on a grand brass plaque and waited with rising impatience to be received. The sooner their showdown began the sooner it would end and he could put it behind him, moving onwards with the new life he and Hester were carving out together.
‘Enter.’
Mr Honeywell’s dry voice came from the other side of the door, and Nathaniel took a second to ready himself before turning the handle and stepping inside.
‘Nathaniel. At last.’
Seated behind his vast desk like a king on a throne, his father put down his pen and sat back in his chair. He flicked a hand towards a matching one on the other side of the desk and watched as Nathaniel dropped into it, his sharp eyes missing nothing while simultaneously seeing little of which to approve.
‘Your sleeve is dirty.’
Resisting the urge to stand straight up again, Nathaniel shrugged. ‘I took a fall while I was skating this morning.’
‘While you were what?’
‘Skating. On the Serpentine. It’s frozen over.’
Mr Honeywell’s face contorted briefly, as though he was trying to understand a foreign language, before settling into weary disgust. ‘I see. It seems I have called you to meet with me just in time.’
A flicker of irritation stirred in Nathaniel’s chest but his father pushed on.
‘I imagine you know why I want to see you. You can’t be ignorant of my thoughts.’
‘No, sir. I’m well aware of what you’ll want to discuss. My only question is why you think it necessary, given there’s no possibility of me changing my mind.’
It was as though he hadn’t spoken at all. Mr Honeywell brushed off his son’s words like flies, lacing his fingers together and studying Nathaniel over the top of them.
‘The voyage to Spain is fixed for a week from now. That will give you plenty of time to prepare yourself for travel.’
The irritation beneath Nathaniel’s breastbone glowed hotter, becoming close to anger now at his father’s cool condescension, but he forced himself to remain calm.
‘I’ve made my stance perfectly clear. I won’t be going on any more unnecessary sailings and I won’t be leaving Hester alone for months at a time. My mind is made up and there’s nothing else to be said on the matter.’
Mr Honeywell’s jaw tightened visibly, his cold demeanour under threat. ‘You’ve already spent far more time with her than you ought. I’ve poured everything into this business, and I won’t allow it to be squandered because you’ve had your head turned—once again—by some pretty chit of a wife.’
‘Don’t speak of Hester that way.’ Nathaniel’s anger leapt immediately higher, curling around him like a flame. ‘I still care about the business. I just seek a balance this time, rather than to lose myself entirely in the trade as you do. I’m not choosing one to the exclusion of the other—there’s room enough for both, if only you’d see it.’
‘Of course there isn’t.’ His father’s eyes were narrowed, fixing Nathaniel with an icy, unwavering stare. ‘Did you learn nothing from my example? From that of your grandfather, even? Ever since your return you’ve spent half your time mooning around after Hester. Sooner or later she’ll grow tired of you—and then what will you have that was worth sacrificing your duty to both the company and yourself?’
Nathaniel shook his head at once, although the faintest whisper began to unfurl, as thin but as permeating as smoke, to remind him that he’d had a similar thought himself. If Hester ever learned the truth of his time in Algiers her feelings for him would have to change—perhaps not reverting back to contempt, but almost certainly marring her affection... How could they not? One so tainted as himself wasn’t worthy of her regard, only her ignorance standing between him and ruin.
‘She will not,’ Nathaniel growled, attempting to ignore the sly murmur in the back of his mind. ‘I have no cause to think it.’
‘No? You’re certain of that, are you?’ Mr Honeywell’s mouth thinned. ‘You forget I’m not an easily fooled man. You’re not the only one who has seen the world. I know what happens in some of the places we’ve visited, and I have a good idea of what happened to you.’
Nathaniel’s throat dried instantly. He sat up straighter in his chair, suddenly conscious of the rapid beat of his heart. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I think you do. I think you know exactly what conclusion I came to when you arrived home with a labourer’s muscles and the mark of a foreman’s whip on your face.’
Watching for a reaction, Mr Honeywell settled his forearms more comfortably on the desk’s leather top. He looked exactly as he did when thrashing out a difficult contract, Nathaniel realised distantly, only it was his son in the firing line and not some supplier.
‘Yours wasn’t some feeble love match, Nathaniel. It was all business. How can any silly infatuation of Hester’s survive once the cold reality of your time away is revealed to her? Her romantic notions of a returning hero will be dashed once she has learned the unsavoury truth of what she is married to, and I believe you know it.’
His father’s mouth twisted into a sneer that Nathaniel wanted, with sudden violence, to strike from his face.
‘I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed, either,’ he went on. ‘To think my own son could sink so low, and after everything I taught you of how to be a man...’
Nathaniel’s eye glowed hot and bright. At one time his father’s contempt would have cut him to the quick, but now he barely felt the rake of its claws. ‘Fortunate for me, then, that I’m no longer a boy scrabbling for your approval,’ he ground out. ‘It’s Hester’s respect I want now, above anyone else’s—even yours.’
‘That much is clear from your behaviour these past months. A shame, then, that such a thing could be shattered with but a few words. Women are so easily convinced...’
Nathaniel hesitated, pulled up short by the threat. His blood felt hotter than ever before and his jaw ached where he clenched it, the tendons of his neck stretched tight. It was as though he’d been struck squarely in that soft place only Hester knew about, his vulnerable underbelly sliced open by his father’s cruel words.
‘You don’t know Hester. If you did you’d see how wrong you are. And how would she find out? Are you suggesting you might be the one to tell her?’
Still with his arms on the desktop, Mr Honeywell examined his hands. All of a sudden he looked tired in a way Nathaniel hadn’t noticed before—doubtless from untold hours poring over his books, and if circumstances had been different Nathaniel might have felt sympathy. Instead he could think of nothing but Hester’s face as it had been that morning out on the ice, flushed pink with cold and her eyes bright with life and humour.
How differently would those eyes look at him if all was revealed? It was the fear that had haunted him ever since his feelings for her had started to blossom into something more than mere tolerance, and his father was seeing straight through him as though he had a window into Nathaniel’s soul.
‘I’m advising you to review your priorities before it’s too late.’
Like someone playing a game of cards, Mr Honeywell had an ace up his sleeve, and now he laid it before Nathaniel with cruel finality.
‘Do your job properly or I’ll find someone else who can. I was considering making your cousin Stephen my heir before you returned. He’s a young man with promise, and I very much doubt he would allow some foolish fancy to distract him from his duty.’
‘You would disinherit me?’ Still reeling from his father’s previous jab, Nathaniel felt as if he’d been punched all over again, his head ringing with too many voices arguing among themselves. ‘If I refuse to go to Spain, leaving Hester alone again for absolutely no real reason after I have sworn I’d stay, you would strip me of my place in the company?’
‘I would seriously consider it.’
Beneath his still-damp coat Nathaniel’s skin prickled, gooseflesh rising on every inch. For most of his life the business had been the only thing of any importance to him, even during his captivity, and to be cut away from it would be like losing a limb. Part of him could scarcely believe his father would stoop so low, and yet another part knew there could be no mistake.
‘I’ve given you no reason to do that. All my work is done, and more. The only thing I refuse to do is sail, when there’s no call for my being aboard.’
Mr Honeywell flexed arthritic fingers spotted with ink from his pen. ‘Your loyalty to your wife is misplaced as well as unnecessary. She was a merry enough widow while you were away for five years. I imagine she could spare you for a few weeks now with very little trouble.’
Nathaniel passed a hand across his face, the desire to wipe the sneer from his father’s still overwhelmingly strong. When he’d walked into this office he had imagined an argument—not this merciless spotlight on all his insecurities that made him feel exposed and raw.
As wrenching as it was to admit, his father was right. Of course Hester could do without him—and for considerably longer than a few weeks. He thought again of her that very morning, her lips parted on that beautiful laugh, and his stomach dropped like a stone. She was so free and vibrant, and what was he in comparison?
Dirty. Humbled. A disappointment, and hardly what I know a man should be at all.
Sooner or later Hester would come to see him for what he was, even without his father’s interference, and then what would happen? How could he inspire her respect when for years he’d known none, so soiled and unworthy he had hardly been able to call himself a man when once he’d been so unbending?
Perhaps Mr Honeywell sensed his son’s indecision. Nathaniel had read once that sharks could smell blood in the water and home in to finish off an injured seal and his father struck him as doing just the same—a predator taking down its wounded prey.
‘People are fickle, Nathaniel. Money and duty are not.’ He spoke more levelly now, that edge of anger smoothed out into his usual flatness. ‘Don’t abandon both for something that won’t last. Go to Spain and forget all this nonsense.’
Nathaniel looked up, sure the pain in his innards must be blazing from his eye. ‘What of last time you sent me off on a pointless voyage? You lied to me about Hester’s condition to get me on that boat. What have you to say about that?’
Serenely unmoved, Mr Honeywell lifted one shoulder. ‘Only that you have no place to lecture me about honesty when you’re the one keeping secrets from your wife. You’ve no intention of telling Hester about your time in Algiers and we both know it. Unless you’d rather I did you the favour of hinting at it myself?’
A skewer of agony impaled Nathaniel, lancing through his chest directly over the place where his heart leapt with hopeless speed. There was no running from it or turning away, and in that moment he felt true despair at the unavoidable choice in front of him.
If he left for Spain he would disappoint Hester—but for how long would her hurt truly last? She’d survived without him for five years, and he couldn’t deny she had become far more independent before his return. She didn’t need him, as she’d been quick to point out, but she seemed to want him—and that alone was enough to make his uncertainty a hundred times worse.
But Father has just said out loud what I’ve suspected all along. Not that his word means much to me any longer.
His relationship with Hester would change once she knew his secrets, and the notion of falling in her esteem was more than he could bear. If he chose to leave she would be stung, but either way her affection for him would one day wither—or, worse, turn to the kind of pity one might feel for a wounded animal rather than a proud man.
And don’t forget his threat of disinheritance. Once Hester is finished with me the company will be all I have left, and not even that if I refuse to sail.
He glanced at his father, who met his eye with a face so expressionless Nathaniel wanted to shake him, shout at him—anything to make him realise the suffering he was causing his only son. But Mr Honeywell would never understand. He had never loved anything or anyone as much as money and power, and to try to explain why Nathaniel felt torn in two would be like trying to explain to the dead.
‘It seems I have little choice.’
Nathaniel could hardly bring himself to speak, the bile in his throat so bitter it choked him. There was no way out of the position he found himself in other than to hurt both Hester and himself—although surely any pain on Hester’s part would be far shorter-lived than his own? She was everything a woman could be and more, and he should count himself lucky that he’d been allowed even such a short time basking in the warmth of her good graces.
‘I’m not the one who put you in this situation. That was entirely your fault. I didn’t raise you to forget your responsibilities and devote yourself quite pointlessly to a woman only yours by previous arrangement.’
Nathaniel’s eye burned with emotion, but he determined not to let it show. At the very least he wouldn’t give his father the satisfaction of knowing how complete a victory he had won, in less than an hour shattering all of Nathaniel’s dreams for the future and scattering their remnants to the four winds.
‘Of course. Nobody could ever say you are anything but a shining example of ruthless ambition. If I came to care for Hester it was never learned from you.’
Mr Honeywell blinked in the same slow, reptilian manner that had always made Nathaniel wonder if he was entirely human.
‘I imagine you intend that as a rebuke. But I’ll never be sorry for training you for a profitable future and to ensure the success of the family trade as your great-grandfather and grandfather would have desired.’ He picked up his pen, and as abruptly as his brutal attack had started, it was over. ‘Now we’ve reached an accord perhaps you’d take your leave? I have other appointments.’
But Nathaniel didn’t move.
I’ll have to tell Hester. I’ll have to return to Areton Street, to the woman I love, and tell her that I’m leaving all over again when I promised I wouldn’t. My word will mean even less to her than it did before, and the cruellest part will be knowing that she’ll think I wanted it this way.
Sick unhappiness roiled within him like a churning sea, tossing Nathaniel on savage waves. He knew what had to be done, but there was nothing he wanted less than to look into Hester’s face and destroy her trust, along with it the new respect she’d had for him which he had held so precious.
‘Nathaniel? I said I have other appointments.’
His father didn’t even lift his head, fixed on whatever he was writing in one of his interminable ledgers. It occurred to Nathaniel that he ought to resent the snub, but he was barely aware of anything but the pounding of both his head and his heart as he finally got to his feet.
‘I’ll stay in London another couple of days, to settle my affairs here, but I’ll suggest Hester goes back to Shardlow ahead of me. I don’t imagine she’ll feel inclined to stay with me once I’ve told her I’m breaking my word.’
‘Whatever you think best.’
Mr Honeywell sounded almost bored—bored by the misery of his only son, and completely unable to empathise with any finer feelings at all.
‘Close the door on your way out.’