Page 60 of The Austen Escape
“Hey... TCG.” I looked up and instantly regretted using Isabel’s nickname.
Nathan’s eyes remained fixed on the book, but they took on a hard quality, then within the same heartbeat, a hurt one. He cleared it as his gaze met mine.
“I... I have a marketing question for you.”
“Shoot... But you must know what those letters mean.”
“Tall Consultant Guy.”
He dropped his head as if disappointed by my dishonesty. “I’m not an idiot, Mary, and by your expression, you know the truth too. TCG. Third. Choice. Guy.”
“That’s why you said that earlier. Third. How’d you find out? And if you knew... why’d you continue to go out with her? Why for six—” I left the question hanging, as I didn’t know how to end it.
Nathan laid the book in his lap. “She was talking to Tiffany about someone being a first choice guy. Then I caught my picture with the initials on her contacts list one day. It wasn’t hard to put it together. As for your other question, it was never serious. It was more to keep either of us from being odd man out with allthe couples we knew. And she was persistent; she kept calling.” He gestured to me. “I get why now. But why did I keep saying yes? I—” He folded his lips in. “Total honesty here? It was probably ego. An attempt to prove I was more. No one wants to be third choice, even if they couldn’t care less about being any choice.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you to come.” I rested my elbows on the table, head in hands. I recalled Nathan’s stories from earlier. His grandfather was right. How people treat you is more about themselves than about you. Nathan and Isabel were more about Isabel, or even about Isabel and me, than anything else. Me and Nathan? I’d wanted help, I’d wanted to confront Isabel, I’d wanted... I looked up at him. Nathan. I’d wanted Nathan. And now he was here, smack between me and Isabel, and he was hurt and it was my fault. I’d made it about me. I raised my head. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t ask, remember? I kinda forced it on you.”
“You did.” I couldn’t offer a smile. He gave me one anyway.
Nathan pushed out of the armchair and joined me at the table. He leaned against the side directly across from me and, elbows to table, our heads were about twelve inches apart.
“The minute I heard your voice... I didn’t come for Isabel, Mary. I came for you. And her nickname doesn’t hurt me. I couldn’t care less about it—as long as you don’t think of me like that.”
Nathan narrowed his eyes. They held that intensity I’d questioned earlier, the one I’d hoped was for me, but wasn’t sure about. This time I felt sure. This time I couldn’t look away.
“I don’t think of you like that.”
Chapter 20
After dinner I stood at the edge of the ballroom again. The staff had hung a garland of greenery across the two mantels. Candles filled the room with light and warmth.
The night before, Isabel had pulled me to the piano so quickly I hadn’t taken it in. Tonight I let my eyes trail through the entire room. The walls were paneled in a pale wood up to about fifteen feet. After two feet of layered and detailed molding, they continued for another ten. This upper section was painted an extraordinary gold color, layered with a green patina. In the candlelight it looked like oxidized copper. There were furniture arrangements tucked close to the two fireplaces, and the rest of the floor space was bare. No carpets covered the beautiful interlacing wood design that spread like octagons bisected and laid across the length of the room.
Along one wall the staff had laid out a selection of petit fours, chocolates, and cheeses on one table, and wines and crystal decanters of spirits on another. Coffee and tea sat on a third.
I watched Isabel twirl Clara. She was teaching her the steps to another Regency-era line dance, and Clara hung on her every word. There was no music, but it didn’t matter. Isabel had been waiting for this moment all day.
When I had returned to our room after losing two games of bowls to Nathan and another we’d both lost to Aaron, I’d found Isabel fast asleep. I nudged her awake.
“Gertrude invited everyone to the front parlor early tonight for a welcome celebration for Nathan. Then there’s to be dancing. Official stuff, not impromptu like last night. Do you want to get up now? It’s probably time to dress.”
“Oh... Yes... Did I sleep all afternoon?” She’d stretched and sat up against the headboard, then wrapped her arms around her knees. “Gertrude promised a proper party tonight. Do you think Nathan likes dancing?”
I paraphrased the next line for her—it was too easy. “And to be fond of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love?” I studied her. “With you?” I cringed at my need for clarification or reassurance, maybe both.
Rather than give me either, she gamboled off her bed and opened her wardrobe. “What are you wearing tonight?”
From there the conversation had turned to dresses and dancing. It didn’t return to Nathan, and I didn’t press further. At some point when she remembered, we would talk. Until then, it felt like recess and I wanted to play.
Now I watched Isabel spin Clara again. She caught my eye and smiled. I smiled back, but did not move from my place against the wall. She maneuvered the little girl my direction and stretched out to whisper to me, “I was right about the blue.”
She had insisted I wear blue this evening. Standing in the bathroom, I’d shoved the dress back to her, saying, “It’s your color. You like the way it makes your eyes pop. You even have a theory that it makes your teeth look whiter. And—” I couldn’t stop myself. “Nathan knows blue is your color. I’ll look silly in it.”
She laughed and pushed the dress back into my hands. “No one can claim a whole color, Mary. That’s ridiculous. You’ll be the most glamorous woman at dinner tonight.”
“But—” I stopped there. There was no kind way to say,But you never let anyone outshine you.And I didn’t want to say it. If she was open to something new, I was too.
