“Do you think me lonely?” Gemma asked.
Nathan turned his face in her direction, knowing it would seem to her like he was staring at her. He wondered if she stared back, cheeks hot but refusing to look away first.
“Yes. I do.”
“And you?”
“I detest those who call themselves part of theTon. It is a deplorable piece of slang and a worse institution. I despise shallowness and frivolity. So, I am in self-imposed exile from their company.”
“Yet, I recall you telling me that we are to attend a ball in three days?” Gemma said.
“A necessity. My former valet and closest confidante, Walter, who is father to Emily, asked me to use my rank to help find his daughter a match. Needs must,” Nathan replied ruefully.
He turned away from the hatch, his shoulders beginning to shiver from the cold air.
“What are these things?” Gemma asked suddenly.
Nathan caught the slight rasp of wood against wood and realized that Gemma had picked up one of the sculptures.
“They are also a frivolity. I enjoy being occupied…with my hands. I carve out statuettes and sculptures,” Nathan said, feeling somewhat embarrassed.
Those works were strictly a hobby and were not put on public display in the Castle. Only in the private rooms for his own perusal.
“It is beautiful. So graceful. Is it crafted from life?” Gemma asked.
“It is, and then…interpreted.”
“So that it becomes more of a feeling of the object than a reproduction of the object itself,” Gemma replied.
Nathan stood for a moment with his mouth open. “My words almost exactly. But I have never heard them repeated. Not by anyone.”
“Is it not the nature of art?” Gemma asked innocently. “To reproduce the feeling of a landscape or a person?”
“You have an interest in art?” Nathan asked.
“Yes. I try to sketch or even paint. But I don’t seem to have the patience for it. I have begun and abandoned many pieces. I suppose that is the difference between me and an artist like you.”
“I am not an artist,” Nathan said emphatically.
Gemma pushed the sculpture into his hands, pressing his hands around it. “This says differently, Nathan. A lot differently. There is no question that you are an artist of skill.”
Nathan sat down, knowing that there was a chair just to one side of the hatch. He ran his fingers over the shape in his hands. He could not remember crafting it, it was one of dozens after all. His blindness meant he could only be reminded of previous work by picking it up and some could be ignored for months, though they could’ve been positioned just inches from his bed or favorite chair. This one seemed as new to him and he was enraptured by its clean, bold lines. The intention in the work was clear to him, its form and meaning. He felt what his intention had been at the time but could also feel new meaning that he had not considered before.
“I would not call myself so. But…it is a good piece, isn’t it?” Nathan said modestly.
Gemma giggled a pretty, delicate sound. It made him smile, put him at ease.
“Gemma. I want you to stay. I mean it. Even if there were no danger, I would ask it,” he said suddenly.
“Why?” Gemma almost whispered.
Nathan floundered. Words rose in his mind but they were ridiculous to say to someone he had only just met.
“Because I am coming to value your company. I think you and I will be friends. You are the first person since the war that I have wanted to be friends with.”
“Then I shall be glad to stay. At least until I can plan my next step.”
“And I shall deal with those rogues,” Nathan said, hands tightening on the sculpture.
