something inside of him. He followed the line of her hand to where it perched on his upper arm. He saw where the jacket had torn, and dried blood stained the ripped fabric. It was not the first time he had been shot, but it did not mean he liked it any more.
"It will be fine, Miss Quinton," he said, pulling his arm away from her touch.
She finally looked up at him then, and he saw something move across her features.
"Nora," she said, and the softness of her voice had his body relaxing unwillingly. "You may call me Nora."
He wanted to smile. He wanted grab her and pull her against him. He wanted...her. But he did nothing and simply replied with, "And I am Nathan."
She did not move and neither did he. They both stood, staring at each other amongst the wreckage of the ballroom.
A sudden commotion in the hall had them both turning toward the door. Feet struck the hard floor in rapid staccato as someone dashed along its length. Bursting through the ballroom doors, a boy of about ten slid into the mess of the ballroom and stopped, staring at the mutilated ferns, broken glasses and various pieces of apparel. His mouth was hanging open, as his straw straight brown hair fell into his eyes.
He finally saw Nora and Nathan standing down the room and shouted even though he really need not have.
"Did someone really get shot, Mama?"
~
Nora did not move.
She did not dare to breathe.
Of all the things she had expected to happen this night, none of the events that had actually transpired were on her list. Not a single one.
If she were to learn anything from tonight, it would be to always listen to Hawkins even if his ramblings bordered on ludicrous.
"Mr. Black-" she began, but he cut her off.
"I'm afraid someone was shot, young man," Nathan said, stepping towards the young boy in the doorway.
Nora had not realized quite how small her son still was. She had been watching him everyday for more than nine years, and he always amazed her with his capabilities and sheer presence. She often forgot he was still just a little boy with his too thin features, large dark eyes and mop of pin straight brown hair that continuously flopped in his eyes. She took a protective step forward, but Nathan was still ahead of her.
"You need not worry on it. This was strictly an affair of the War Office of mother England. You are quite safe, lad."
Nora watched Samuel back up as Nathan approached. She could not remember when it was that Samuel had taken to retreating from men. She worried it was an indirect influence from her, but she could not be sure. Still, watching him recoil from a perfectly fine gentleman made her heart sink as a mother. Was she truly that quick to react to a male's presence? Did Samuel pick up on it that easily?
"What is your name, son?"
Nathan advanced more, and Nora still tried to get in front of him. But then she noticed Nathan's hand. The one closest to her was open, palm wide and fingers splayed as if telling her to stay back. What was he doing? This was her son, and she was not just going to stand back while he cowered with insecurity in the doorway.
"Samuel." Her son was not shouting any more. He was barely pushing out enough air to make noise.
"Samuel. That's a fine name. How old are you?" Nathan continued, and Nora held her breath.
"Nine, sir."
"Nine. That's fantastic. You're almost old enough to be a spy yourself. Ever thought about being a spy, Samuel?"
Nora looked at Nathan. She was not sure what she had expected Nathan to say, but the topic of espionage was not high on her probabilities list. She looked back at Samuel and realized he watched her. He was doing that thing that Nora so often did. He looked over Nathan's shoulder instead of at him, making it appear as though he were looking through Nathan instead. Nora felt her mouth go slack. Never had her
"It will be fine, Miss Quinton," he said, pulling his arm away from her touch.
She finally looked up at him then, and he saw something move across her features.
"Nora," she said, and the softness of her voice had his body relaxing unwillingly. "You may call me Nora."
He wanted to smile. He wanted grab her and pull her against him. He wanted...her. But he did nothing and simply replied with, "And I am Nathan."
She did not move and neither did he. They both stood, staring at each other amongst the wreckage of the ballroom.
A sudden commotion in the hall had them both turning toward the door. Feet struck the hard floor in rapid staccato as someone dashed along its length. Bursting through the ballroom doors, a boy of about ten slid into the mess of the ballroom and stopped, staring at the mutilated ferns, broken glasses and various pieces of apparel. His mouth was hanging open, as his straw straight brown hair fell into his eyes.
He finally saw Nora and Nathan standing down the room and shouted even though he really need not have.
"Did someone really get shot, Mama?"
~
Nora did not move.
She did not dare to breathe.
Of all the things she had expected to happen this night, none of the events that had actually transpired were on her list. Not a single one.
If she were to learn anything from tonight, it would be to always listen to Hawkins even if his ramblings bordered on ludicrous.
"Mr. Black-" she began, but he cut her off.
"I'm afraid someone was shot, young man," Nathan said, stepping towards the young boy in the doorway.
Nora had not realized quite how small her son still was. She had been watching him everyday for more than nine years, and he always amazed her with his capabilities and sheer presence. She often forgot he was still just a little boy with his too thin features, large dark eyes and mop of pin straight brown hair that continuously flopped in his eyes. She took a protective step forward, but Nathan was still ahead of her.
"You need not worry on it. This was strictly an affair of the War Office of mother England. You are quite safe, lad."
Nora watched Samuel back up as Nathan approached. She could not remember when it was that Samuel had taken to retreating from men. She worried it was an indirect influence from her, but she could not be sure. Still, watching him recoil from a perfectly fine gentleman made her heart sink as a mother. Was she truly that quick to react to a male's presence? Did Samuel pick up on it that easily?
"What is your name, son?"
Nathan advanced more, and Nora still tried to get in front of him. But then she noticed Nathan's hand. The one closest to her was open, palm wide and fingers splayed as if telling her to stay back. What was he doing? This was her son, and she was not just going to stand back while he cowered with insecurity in the doorway.
"Samuel." Her son was not shouting any more. He was barely pushing out enough air to make noise.
"Samuel. That's a fine name. How old are you?" Nathan continued, and Nora held her breath.
"Nine, sir."
"Nine. That's fantastic. You're almost old enough to be a spy yourself. Ever thought about being a spy, Samuel?"
Nora looked at Nathan. She was not sure what she had expected Nathan to say, but the topic of espionage was not high on her probabilities list. She looked back at Samuel and realized he watched her. He was doing that thing that Nora so often did. He looked over Nathan's shoulder instead of at him, making it appear as though he were looking through Nathan instead. Nora felt her mouth go slack. Never had her
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