Natalie ground her teeth. She had no confidence or any sense of her worth before he left England, and he was quick to remind her of where she had been and belittle her for it. They changed partners, and this gave her a chance to regain her composure.
"Time brings with it change, My Lord,” she answered calmly when they met again, “and with change comes growth.”
"Quite so," Oliver murmured, his eyes moving over her body again.
"Well, for most of us, at least," she added with a deliberate smile. He had neither changed nor matured, after all these years, for only an immature person would seek to undermine others.
Oliver flushed with irritation at her subtle insult, but he tried to conceal it. Nonetheless, Natalie allowed herself all the satisfaction she could feel.
Oliver made a quick recovery. "Some things remain unchanged with you, Lady Natalie."
Natalie gave an indifferent shrug despite her internal turmoil. “So long as I am comfortable with those things, it should not matter.”
The dance ended, much to her relief, but he was greatly displeased. "We shall meet again," he said to her as she curtsied, and he bowed. Natalie could not help but feel as though he had just promised her future retribution with his words to meet again.
She sought an excuse to leave the soiree early, and she went so far as to pretend she was poorly. Oliver’s words had greatly unsettled her, and his reappearance had opened a wound she thought was healing.
When she saw Jasper approach her, she turned and found the first exit. She simply could not believe that he had not intentionally chosen Oliver to dance with her.
The following late afternoon, Oliver made an unexpected call upon their house, and he spent quite some time with George in his study.
Natalie paced the drawing room, knots in her stomach. Unable to bear the thought of disrupting a good night for her cousins, she had hired a hack and left the soirée, leaving a note for Phoebe and expressing her regrets.
Of course, she had continued to pretend to be unwell throughout the morning until afternoon came and Oliver visited. At last, Oliver and George entered the drawing room, and a disgustingly smug smile spread across his lips.
"It appears as though we would be seeing more of each other now, Natalie," he said to her before glancing in a displeased George's direction and giving him a deliberate smile. She also noted that he called her by her Christian name. Once more, his words hung over her like a dark cloud.
After his departure, Natalie raised her eyes to George’s, and he looked grim and older than his years. “What did he want?” Oliver had to have demanded the impossible. It was his way.
George shook his head. “It is just business. Only the coal factory. Nothing more.” He turned and walked back to his study, leaving Natalie confused and pained.
Hannah was out with her friend, and Natalie distracted herself with her sewing until evening came. George did not join her and Hannah for dinner, and that was when Natalie knew that something was gravely wrong.
After their meal, she decided to find him in his study. When she knocked, he called, “I am busy. Come back later.”
“I need to speak to you, George,” she said.
After several seconds, he called for her to enter. She walked in to find him drinking by the hearth. He did not turn to look at her, but she somehow saw the shadows in his eyes.
Moving close, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “What did Oliver want, George?”
“Uncle Hubert gave him the house, Natalie.”
Darkness descended over her, graying her vision. Her hand moved from his shoulder to clutch the back of his chair to keep herself steady. “What did you say?”
“This house now belongs to Oliver. Uncle Hubert gave it to him when he asked for it.” He drank the remainder of the liquor in his glass while Natalie thought she would faint.
“No,” she shook her head. “It cannot be. Father could not have done that.”
"He came with proof, Natalie. It was complete with the late Earl's signature. Our beloved townhouse belongs to Ecklehill." George sounded as heartbroken as she felt.
The townhouse was all they had left, and now it appeared as though it was no longer theirs. They could not sell it to better their lives, no matter how desperate they were.
"Oliver says that we can keep the house," George carried on, and she straightened to listen, "in exchange for Hannah's hand in marriage.” Her eyes grew wide as she took a step back. This pained her more than if a blow had been dealt to her gut. "We cannot let Hannah find out, Natalie," George said.
Natalie turned toward the door and saw Hannah standing in the doorway. “She already knows,” she whispered.
"Are you still keeping things from me?" Hannah asked as she walked into the room. “I thought we understood each other better now.”
