“Of course not, Helen. I did not say you ought to cast a net for a husband. But could you not socialize with other women?”
“And do what? Play cards? Gossip? I have no taste for either.”
“But it does you no good, living in seclusion like this.”
“How do you know? Excuse me, Nathaniel, but how would you know? You have been gone these two years with little thought to my well-being. Why now do you suddenly care?”
“That is not fair, Helen. You know it was Father’s decision to summon me to Barbados when Lewis chose to return. I know I was not faithful in writing letters, but my every hour was taken up in plantation affairs.”
One eyebrow rose. “Your every hour?” She leaned back, hazel eyes alert. “Did you meetnointeresting young ladies your entire time there?”
He inhaled deeply. “I did, actually. Well, one.”
“Oh?”
“Ava DeSante. Her father owns a neighboring plantation. She is accomplished, intelligent, beautiful...”
“But?”
“But she could not understand nor respect my objections to slavery.”
Helen blinked. “I am sorry to hear it, but really, were you surprised? From what I understand, slaves are the very lifeblood of plantations. No slaves, no profits—or at least, greatly diminished profits.”
Nathaniel slumped back in his chair. “Yes, as Father never tires of reminding me.”
His sister studied him over her glass while the footmen removed the entrees and laid the next course. “You have changed, Nathaniel, while you were away.”
He paused, his own glass held midair. “For the better or worse? I hate to ask.”
“Both, I think. Your new fervor makes me wary, I admit. But I do respect your stance.” She tilted her head to one side, regarding him. “But you seem, well, harder somehow. Guarded. Did Barbados do that to you, or did she?”
He swallowed. Did Helen refer to Ava, or toher? The truth was, Nathaniel had been illogically relieved when his courtship in Barbados had ended. He shook his head. “If you had seen what I’ve seen, Helen. The vile things men do to other men for the sake of money....”
She asked quietly, “But is that really all it is?”
He did not answer. What did she want him to say—that he was still hurt over his disappointment with Margaret Macy? After all this time? It was imbecilic. He would not do it.
Helen dabbed her lips with a table napkin. “I support emancipation and the need to retrench.” Her mouth rose in a one-sided grin. “Even if it does mean I shall have to curtail myexcessivevisits to the modiste.”
Nathaniel grinned in return, thankful for her attempt to lighten the moment. Perhaps his sister might warm to him yet.
His grin faded, and he continued to eat without tasting a thing. As much as he tried to fight it, his mind reeled back to the still-painful day Miss Macy cast him aside.
———
Nathaniel waited in the drawing room of the Macys’ modest town house while the footman went to announce him. His hands shook. His pulse pounded. He paced the room, rehearsing the words that would change their lives forever. Yes, a kernel of insecurity lodged within his heart. He was not blind. He had not missed the attention Lewis had paid Margaret since his return. But surely she realized Lewis was only flirting with her. It was his way. Margaret’s feelings, Margaret herself, meant little to his brother and everything to him. She must know that.
A few minutes later, Margaret swept into the room, an expectant smile on her lovely face.
Nathaniel rose, his heart lifting at the sight of her. “Miss Macy.”
“Oh...” she faltered. “Mr. Upchurch.” She glanced toward the mantel clock.
Had she been expecting someone else? Nathaniel remained standing, suddenly ill at ease.
Margaret sat stiffly in an armchair and gestured to the settee across from her. “Please, won’t you be seated?”
He considered his options, then sat at the end nearest her chair.
