Nate sighed as he raised his fingers to his head and massaged his temples. His head had been aching constantly since the night before last, and he couldn't stop thinking about the scene and about Emily's reaction.
She'd read his letter, he was certain of it, but she hadn't come. Did that mean she was not going to choose him? Had he really just lost her, just like that? And, was there nothing else he could do but hope for the next few years that, perhaps, she might choose to return to him. He knew he was bound to end up doing just that. It was rather pathetic, he supposed, that he couldn't help but dwell on things.
Emily, however, was someone he was in love with. If soulmates existed, he had no doubt that she was his. That was the sort of thing one was supposed to dwell on, wasn't it?
He wondered if she believed what he'd written in the letter. That nothing had happened with Mary nor was anything going to happen to Mary. He hoped she knew that that was the last thing he would ever do, especially because it was something his father would have done, and to become like his father was his worst fear. Nate would forever strive his hardest and do everything he could to keep himself from becoming like that man, and he'd thought that Emily knew that.
At this point, all that he could ask for was that she would remember that.
Emily Carter was unlike any woman he'd ever met before. It wasn't just her independenceâ his sisters and quite a few others were rather independent. No, it was something else entirely in her spirit. It was her stubbornness, her fire and her zeal. She was the sort of person who, when she knew what she wanted, would do anything to get it.
He'd always thought that she'd wanted him enough for that. He'd always thought that things would all work out, that she would come back to him eventually, that they would kiss and hold hands and everything would be right with the world. He'd never considered either the past or the present, and that had been his biggest mistake. He'd been so focused on the future that, in the process, he'd forgotten about the problems that lay before them in the present. He'd been so hopeful about what could be that he'd forgotten about what actually was.
Nate knew that he wasn't exactly the most intelligent individual, but he also knew that he wasn't stupid. But, his actions over the past month or two had proven otherwise. He'd been a right fool in his dealings and he'd set himself up for heartbreak. It had been his own fault, yet he was still rotting in his study and feeling sorry for himself instead of actually doing something productive.
He'd spoken to both Kit and Cassandra, who had just returned from the docks. Emily had seemed alright, if a little sad to be leaving. The mention of the letter hadn't had much of an effect on her was what Cassie had said and, if he was being honest, that had stung.
He groaned loudly, and was about to toss his ledger at the wall, when there was a timid knock on the door, perhaps that of one of the maids.
"Come in." He called, trying his best to seem as if he were sane.
When the door opened, he frowned at the sight of the figure that slipped into the room, for it was the last person he'd expected to see enter.
Finally, she took the seat on the other side of the desk, and bent her head demurely, something very far out of character for her. Perhaps she was repenting for the mistakes she'd made? Either way, he would have to he cautious when it came to her, for she was unpredictable.
"Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Smithson?" He asked, his tone clipped, causing her to look up and meet his eyes. Hers were entirely blank, without any emotion. He supposed that that was an upgrade from the cruelty he so often saw glittering in her gaze.
"Yes," She answered thickly, tugging nervously at her hair, "It's just that I heard my actions the other day caused some.....discord between yourself and Lady Emily."
"And was it Lady Emily herself who told you this?" Nate asked unforgivingly, not giving her any leeway to fool him further.
"Yes." She answered, albeit hesitantly. "And I wanted to apologise to you for it. It was never my intention to cause trouble between you. It was only that I feel for you a certain way, and I'd assumed you thought of me in that same way. It was thoughtless of me to assume so, especially after you told me that you love another woman. If I'd known that that other woman was Lady Emily, I wouldn't have even gone as far as I did, I swear!"
Since the girl appeared to be in near tears, Nate thought it best that he be kind to her. So, he softened slightly. He couldn't think of anything to say, so he remained silent, but Mary filled the void quickly enough.
"I am truly very sorry." She said, much more calmly, but her lower lip trembled, which made Nate want to groan. The only crying female he knew how to deal with was Juliette. "My actions have been horrible. I shouldn't have presumed that just because you were nice to me, that you wanted me. I'm clearly not as pretty as Lady Emily, so I don't know why I ever thought I stood a chance against her, or any other woman. It was stupid of me."
"Oh, come now." Nate said, trying to hide his exasperation as he stood from his seat and crossed to the other side of the desk, where Mary had burst into tears and was sobbing into the sleeve of her dress. "You're a very beautiful girl, as I'm sure you know. And, someday, you shall meet the right man who shall look only at you and at no other. Don't doubt yourself simply because of me."
Nate was rather proud of himself for stringing that together, but soon regretted it as Mary changed the receptor of her tears and threw her arms around his neck and began sobbing wretchedly into the shoulder of his shirt, most likely ruining it. He rather liked this shirt, too. It was a special one that he'd bought in London for an inglorious sum of money that he didn't like disclosing.
"There, there." He said disinterestedly, patting her back a few times awkwardly. He didn't know what else he could do but that. Finally she calmed down a bit and pulled herself off him, and looked up at Nate through her lashes, her gaze reminding him of a puppy dog that needed reassurance.
"Thank you." She breathed, still clutching at his shirt. At least she wasn't still entirely on him, though, which meant the pros outweighed the cons. "Do you really, truly think me to be beautiful, though, or are you lying to make me feel better? It's alright, you can tell me the truth."
"Yes," Nate said, not lying but not interested in her at all. "I do think you very fair, and another man would be very lucky to have you."
"Are you sure that man isn't you?" Mary asked, still looking at him as she had before, but with something else added to her gaze, something a little more feral. She looked more feline than canine now.
"What?" Nate asked, choking in disbelief. Was her head really so thick that, despite such repetition of the same words, information just wouldn't go in?
Before he knew what was happening, she'd thrown herself at him again, this time attacking him with her lips while he sat there, stunned and wide-eyed. Out of all of the situations he'd prepared himself for, this hadn't been one of them. He keeled there, in complete shock, for perhaps five seconds before he could fully realise what was happening and managed to wrench her off him. She seemed to be surprised that he would do such a thing, and gazed at him oddly, while he pulled himself away from her so that there was at least three feet between them.
"What is wrong with you?" He demanded, all patience having disappeared. She hadn't changed. All her tears had simply been an act. "How many times must I tell you something before you finally realise that it is the truth?"
"How can it be the truth?" Mary demanded, her eyes flaring in anger as she sat up straight, all traces of yet crocodile tears fading. "You must be lying. How could you prefer her to me? I am clearly the superior candidate to be the Duchess of this estate! It is I who should be enjoying the prestige of your title, not someone like Emily."
"You might be right. Outwardly, you might be everything that it is required in a Duchess but, on the inside, all I see is ugliness. Emily, on the other hand, would be able to work with me as my equal, as a partner. She is the perfect choice for me as a Duchess and, more importantly, as my wife. She is someone I can see myself standing beside and loving for all our lives. I will not marry someone simply for their beauty, someone whom I will only grow to despise in a year. That is something only a pathetic excuse for a man would do so, perhaps, you should find yourself one of those since you have made it rather obvious that you are after me for my wealth."
Mary looked at him, stunned, for a moment before exclaiming suddenly. "What have I done wrong? Absolutely nothing. I portrayed myself to you as being the perfect woman, I offered you what you wanted and I said enough to that idiot Emily to get rid of her for good. I've done everything right and, yet, you claim not to want me? I refuse to believe that. I am not leaving this room until I receive a proposal. Perhaps there is some other way that I can convince you that I am deserving of one."
"Good God, woman!" Nate yelled, impatience having faded into anger. "Have you no self-respect? You have been rejected by me multiple times yet you still consider yourself as having a chance? The only reason I'd decided to let you remain here after what happened that night was because of your parents but, now that I have learned of the extent to which your bitterness lies, of the fact that you have actually considered yourself as possessing the right to say a single word to Emily has made me decide otherwise. Pack your bags immediately. You will be returning home to London. I will send a footman to get the carriage ready. If you say one more word, you won't even get the carriage."
Mary looked as if she was about to argue, but one look from Nate quelled her. Finally, she stood up and left, slamming the door behind her. Luckily for Nate, there was a maid passing just as he stuck his head outside the door of his study and he told her to tell the stable boy to prepare the carriage for Mary to return to London.
He sat down again, relief filling him up as he realised that he now had one problem less left to deal with. His peace did not last for long, however, as there was another knock on his door.
If Mary had returned to say something else, he didn't think he would be able to remain calm long enough to simply order her out. He might even have to make use of the pistol in his desk drawer.
"Come in!" He called, his tone exasperated. All exasperation, however, faded when the person on the other side of the door entered the room.
It was Emily.