him.
He raised his gaze to Nicola and she swallowed back a sharp retort when a spark of something she couldn’t define lit his eyes. He was challenging her. For a moment she wanted to laugh at him, mock him, but something stopped her. She wouldn’t stoop to his level. “Good day, Mr West.” She took Frances’s hand and pressed it. “I’ll speak to you soon.” With head high, she turned and left them.
Watching her go, so proud and feminine, Nathaniel sucked in a breath. His groin tightened and his heart thumped against his chest like blacksmith’s hammer. God, she is beautiful.
“Now what the hell was all that about!” Frances slapped his arm. “She is my new friend, and you know I don’t have many, so why did you act as though she was something you’d just wiped off your boots? You have more of Father in you than you think.”
“Don’t ever say that.” He gave her a loathsome glare. “I am nothing like him.”
“Then don’t act it. You’re better than that.”
He shrugged, slipping behind his comfortable mask of unconcern and gazed around, buying some time to gather his thoughts. “Are you finished in here for today? Perhaps we could go have something to eat.”
“Don’t avoid the question. Why did you behave like that to Nicola? She isn’t some ignorant servant.”
“I’m hungry, Frances. I’d rather take you out than have you harangue me like a whore on a street corner. So, can we go?”
Frances marched away to lean the broom against the back wall and then, in jerking movements, she untied her apron. “I don’t understand why you have to act the arrogant swine all the time. I know you’re not really like that.”
“Yes, I am.”
She stopped and looked at him. “We aren’t at home now. Mother and Father no longer rule us. You are your own man. There’s no need to put on these acts of—”
“Enough, Frances.” Nathaniel walked out of the building not caring if she followed or not. He hated thinking of his parents, hated being reminded of how ill they used him. The past was gone.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” Frances strode up alongside of him. “Lord, Nat, you are one frustrating—”
He swung to face her. “Why must you drag up the past all the time? I don’t want to think about it or talk about it. Ever.”
She planted her feet apart and stuck her hands on her hips. “Then why do you act the way you do? If you’re happy to leave the past behind then why do you put up all these defences? You are no happier here than you were back in England or else you’d smile a lot more.”
He frowned. “I do smile.”
“Your smile is usually a sarcastic lift of your lips. I should know as I’m usually on the receiving end of one.” She locked the warehouse doors.
Nat sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair. “If I’d known that inviting you out for a meal would give me so much anguish I’d not have bothered.”
“Fine!” Frances spat, storming off. “I don’t need your bloody charity anyway.”
“Yes, you do!” Chuckling at her outrage and language, he ran and caught her arm. “I love you, you mad wench.”
She stopped and gaped at him with her wide grey eyes.
He kissed her cheek and his smile, for the first time in a long while, was real.
“I love you too.” She softened her stance and linked her arm through his.
“You know, you’ll never find a husband using that kind of language. It’s bad enough you’ll be wearing his clothes but to speak like him too, might be pushing the limits, dearest.”
She spluttered. “A husband! Never!” Then looking up at him she sighed. “I’ve got you, that’s all I need.”
* * *
Nicola emerged out of the tin bath’s cooling water and wrapped a towel around herself. Her arms ached from carrying bucket after bucket of hot water upstairs but at least she was clean. Working at the soup kitchen was rewarding, but she couldn’t take the risk of bringing disease back to the lodging and so, three
He raised his gaze to Nicola and she swallowed back a sharp retort when a spark of something she couldn’t define lit his eyes. He was challenging her. For a moment she wanted to laugh at him, mock him, but something stopped her. She wouldn’t stoop to his level. “Good day, Mr West.” She took Frances’s hand and pressed it. “I’ll speak to you soon.” With head high, she turned and left them.
Watching her go, so proud and feminine, Nathaniel sucked in a breath. His groin tightened and his heart thumped against his chest like blacksmith’s hammer. God, she is beautiful.
“Now what the hell was all that about!” Frances slapped his arm. “She is my new friend, and you know I don’t have many, so why did you act as though she was something you’d just wiped off your boots? You have more of Father in you than you think.”
“Don’t ever say that.” He gave her a loathsome glare. “I am nothing like him.”
“Then don’t act it. You’re better than that.”
He shrugged, slipping behind his comfortable mask of unconcern and gazed around, buying some time to gather his thoughts. “Are you finished in here for today? Perhaps we could go have something to eat.”
“Don’t avoid the question. Why did you behave like that to Nicola? She isn’t some ignorant servant.”
“I’m hungry, Frances. I’d rather take you out than have you harangue me like a whore on a street corner. So, can we go?”
Frances marched away to lean the broom against the back wall and then, in jerking movements, she untied her apron. “I don’t understand why you have to act the arrogant swine all the time. I know you’re not really like that.”
“Yes, I am.”
She stopped and looked at him. “We aren’t at home now. Mother and Father no longer rule us. You are your own man. There’s no need to put on these acts of—”
“Enough, Frances.” Nathaniel walked out of the building not caring if she followed or not. He hated thinking of his parents, hated being reminded of how ill they used him. The past was gone.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” Frances strode up alongside of him. “Lord, Nat, you are one frustrating—”
He swung to face her. “Why must you drag up the past all the time? I don’t want to think about it or talk about it. Ever.”
She planted her feet apart and stuck her hands on her hips. “Then why do you act the way you do? If you’re happy to leave the past behind then why do you put up all these defences? You are no happier here than you were back in England or else you’d smile a lot more.”
He frowned. “I do smile.”
“Your smile is usually a sarcastic lift of your lips. I should know as I’m usually on the receiving end of one.” She locked the warehouse doors.
Nat sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair. “If I’d known that inviting you out for a meal would give me so much anguish I’d not have bothered.”
“Fine!” Frances spat, storming off. “I don’t need your bloody charity anyway.”
“Yes, you do!” Chuckling at her outrage and language, he ran and caught her arm. “I love you, you mad wench.”
She stopped and gaped at him with her wide grey eyes.
He kissed her cheek and his smile, for the first time in a long while, was real.
“I love you too.” She softened her stance and linked her arm through his.
“You know, you’ll never find a husband using that kind of language. It’s bad enough you’ll be wearing his clothes but to speak like him too, might be pushing the limits, dearest.”
She spluttered. “A husband! Never!” Then looking up at him she sighed. “I’ve got you, that’s all I need.”
* * *
Nicola emerged out of the tin bath’s cooling water and wrapped a towel around herself. Her arms ached from carrying bucket after bucket of hot water upstairs but at least she was clean. Working at the soup kitchen was rewarding, but she couldn’t take the risk of bringing disease back to the lodging and so, three
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