Page 72 of The Austen Escape
“Not at all. Everyone is a little weary tonight. Sylvia asked if Clara could have soup in their room.”
“I’m so sorry about her. Isabel feels horrible. She’s planning to speak to them, to apologize.”
“Kids are resilient. It sounds cliché, but it’s true.”
“To a degree.” I thought of Isabel and I wasn’t so sure.
Gertrude touched my arm as if offering condolences. “Go. Take some time for yourself. Do you want Duncan to drive you?”
“Thank you, but I’d rather walk.”
She placed the linens in the small closet, then gestured to thenarrow stairs I’d found my first day. “Let me get you a coat. It’s cooling outside.”
We passed through the cupboard-lined hallway to a mudroom. It was stone floored and hook lined. Coats, boots, umbrellas, gardening equipment, and assorted chaos filled counters and bins.
She handed me her own gray waxed coat and opened the side door. “When you come back, if you come through here and up those stairs again, you most likely won’t run into anyone. If that’s a goal.”
“It is tonight. Thank you.” I pulled on the coat and set out.
As I rounded the house, Nathan crossed my path. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“You found me.” I stalled. “I’m sorry I disappeared. Isabel and I—”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Had a lot to talk about. You don’t need to apologize or explain. Where is she?”
“She went to find Grant and start her round of apologies. I suspect she’ll get to you too.”
“How are you?” Nathan’s hand slid from cheek to hand and stayed there.
“I’m sorting it all out. She said something on our walk about us being ‘written.’ She meant the terms of our friendship were fixed, and they were, I agree, but they were fixed on wrong assumptions, if that makes any sense. I pride myself on seeing things clearly, objectively, but I never saw my best friend. Maybe not myself either.”
“Don’t judge yourself too harshly. Outside math, what’s objective?”
I didn’t have an answer beyondnothingand we both knew it. “You were a pawn, by the way. She never really liked you at all.”
Nathan burst out laughing. “I figured that. I mean a ThirdChoice Guy can’t cause too much heartache, but”—he patted his chest, much like Herman in his fine vest—“I am charming. You never know, it might have gone the other way.” He stepped back and took in what I was wearing. “Where are you going?”
“Into Bath.” I gave him the same once-over. “And if you’re coming, you cannot go dressed like that.”
“I’m invited?” He pulled his hand from mine and held it out, fingers spread wide. “Give me five minutes.”
At my nod he took off running.
Fifteen minutes later, he joined me down the hill at the house’s main gate.
“I thought you’d given up on me and left.” He was breathless with the run.
“It took you long enough. If I’d stayed up there, more people might have wanted to come along.” I tried to laugh, but it came out flat.
I felt him brush the back of my hand. Our fingers tangled and held.
Nathan was wearing jeans and a quarter-zip sweater and soft brown loafers. His hair looked as if he’d just woken up, or just pulled a sweater over his head. He’d been too hurried—for me. I also noted no five o’clock shadow. He’d shaved. And he had really long eyelashes.
I squeezed his hand, which elicited a questioning glance. “I’m very glad Isabel missed all these charms of which you speak.”
“I feel pretty lucky too. Are we walking into Bath?”
“It’s only about a mile. I’ve seen you run on that treadmill. You can handle it.” I pointed to a sign ahead. “Sonia told me the Number 12 bus stops there and will take us right to the Roman Baths, if you’d rather.”
