Pursuing Miss Hall by Karen Thornell
Chapter Twelve
Nathan sat on one side of his father’s desk, attempting to be of some use to the man and failing dismally. It had been days since he had seen Meg. There had been no planned outings for the party, and he was beside himself with worry over her and what she must think of him. All his mind would focus on was the feel of Meg in his arms and her subsequent wrath at his actions.
Completely justified wrath.
“Son, if you sigh one more time, I am likely to throw you out the window.”
Nathan jerked to attention, relaxing marginally when he saw his father’s teasing grin. “I apologize, Father. It would appear I am rather useless today.”
His father leaned back in the chair, entwining his hands over his stomach. “Am I correct in assuming it is a certain sweet blonde of our acquaintance who has you so distracted?”
Nathan groaned, his head dropping into his hands. “Am I so obvious?”
“Only because you have been in love with the girl for at least five years, if I’m not mistaken. Besides, I am sure I looked quite as helpless as you when I was courting your mother.” He chuckled, the low sound filling the room.
Nathan raised his head from his hands. “At least you were permitted to court her.”
His father sobered, his gaze growing sharp. “You’ve not been given permission to court her? And why not?”
Heat rose up Nathan’s neck, and he pushed from the desk, then paced to the window. “It is possible that I have not formally asked. But Meg’s parents have made it clear they wish her to marry someone of a higher—” He cut off, glancing at his father. He did not mean to cause offense regarding his family’s finances.
“Higher standing than our family? I can see Lady Hall wishing for that. But I am certain her father wishes only for Miss Hall to be happy. Deep down, her mother can only wish for that as well. Besides, you are perfectly capable of caring for a wife in comfort, son. We may not be as wealthy as the Halls, nor as high in society, but I cannot imagine your Miss Hall cares for that.”
“Yes, but they have invited that viscount for the sole purpose of marrying her off to him. And she will do it for them. You know she will.”
Father stared at him for a moment, long enough that Nathan looked away, out the window again. He resisted the urge to pull at his cravat. As much as he appreciated any advice his father could offer, discussing his hopeless cause with Meg was rather painful.
“You are right,” Father began, and Nathan’s shoulders drooped. “She will marry if she believes that it will improve her family’s happiness. But only if she believes she has no other choice. You, my son, are the other choice. And forgive me for being rather partial, but I am certain you are the better one.”
Nathan’s lips lifted in a sad smile. “Unfortunately, I may have acted in a way that will ensure Meg wants nothing to do with me.”
“You what?” His father’s voice was suddenly stern, and Nathan looked to him again, sheepish.
“Son, if you acted dishonorably toward Miss Hall, I certainly will throw you out the window. And then you had better go make things right with her father.”
“I was only trying to show her that she cannot marry without affection. Obviously, I bungled the thing.” Nathan really did pull at his cravat this time. His father raised his brows.
“Nathaniel,” he warned.
Nathan raised his hands defensively. “I swear I did nothing that would force a marriage between the two of us! At least not by most standards . . . though perhaps I ought to use it as an excuse to offer for her.”
Father sighed, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “You do not need an excuse, Nathan. You need only your love for her.”
With a small grin, Father leaned around him, unlatching the window. “Now, I will not throw you out today because I believe you when you say you did not tarnish Miss Hall’s reputation. But I understand this is your preferred way of entering and exiting homes, so perhaps you ought to make use of it and go win Miss Hall’s hand. If not for your sake, then for ours. Your mother and I cannot handle the moping any longer. The sighs are likely to instigate a windstorm at this rate.”
Nathan’s mouth twitched in an answering grin to his father’s pretended stern look. He nodded. “Thank you.”
The lines around his father’s eyes and mouth softened, and he smiled. “You are welcome. Now go.”
“Now?” Nathan asked, bewildered.
Father aimed a smack at his head, but Nathan dodged. “Yes, now. What did I raise, a blockhead?”