Charlie joined us. “Nate’s here to see me,” he told Steven, blithely unaware or uncaring that he was misrepresenting the situation.
“So why was he making out with Rough Trade over there?” Steven gestured towards Alex, who’d joined his family group but was unfortunately still close enough to hear Steven’s words.
“Nate?” Oh, God. Charlie sounded like a lost little boy. He’d done that sometimes, and I’d never been able to resist it. From the glitter in Steven’s eyes, that was precisely the reaction he’d wanted.
“We kissed,” I said shortly. “That’s all.”
“But—”
I wasnotgoing to have this conversation in front of everyone. I took Charlie by the arm and pulled him out of the room. “You told me to make up my mind. This is part of me making up my mind, okay?”
However lacking in logic it was, my statement seemed to reassure Charlie. His eyes were tracking me a little too slowly, so perhaps that was why he was easily convinced. Was he okay? And then I caught a whiff of alcohol on his breath. What the hell—it was Sunday afternoon with his family. I leaned forward to check, and he took that as an invitation. As he tried to kiss me, I stepped back sharply.
“I need time,” I said, and I could see the effort it took him to nod and agree.
Charlie had always grabbed what he wanted, when he wanted. For him to employ this level of self-control must mean hereallywanted me back. I felt guilty about misleading him, even while a tiny part of me was insistent that perhaps I wasn’t misleading him.
“I’ll let you circulate,” I told him, and returned to the drawing room.
Every time I knew Charlie and I were definitively over, a voice somewhere inside me contradicted that, trapping me in an endless cycle of doubt. I’d only been here twenty-four hours, and I was already exhausted.
ALEX
I should have been talking to the Fortescue cousins who they’d put either side of me at supper that night, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop watching Nate Mortimer. Research, I told myself. I was following Margaret’s orders and getting to know the enemy.
Ella and Charlie were vying for Nate’s attention and wouldn’t leave him alone, even when he was trying to make polite conversation with Fiona, sitting to his left. He was easy and teasing with Ella, displaying a warmth I had yet to see from any of the Fortescues. Each time he and Charlie spoke, there was something in Nate’s face I couldn’t read. He looked thankful to stand up as soon as coffee was announced and didn’t join us in the drawing room, so I guessed he’d made his escape. Shame I hadn’t thought of doing the same.
As I drank my coffee, I looked around the room and wondered how to find out what I wanted to know. This wasn’t like trying to steal an item. A plan was intangible, and we had no idea if any of it had been put in writing. Perhaps I should make nice with the younger Fortescues and see what I could get out of them.
I headed towards Charlie for the simple reason he was fractionally less objectionable than his brother. Rough Trade, indeed. “How were the Roman Baths?” I greeted him.
His eyes were cold on my face. “Not as exciting as your afternoon, by all accounts.”
“If you call getting lectured by Jane Austen enthusiasts dressed in Regency costumes exciting. I made the mistake of going to the museum.”
“With Nate?” He was full of suspicion.
“He wanted someone to share the misery, and I was the only one here,” I explained. I needed to divert his train of thought away from Nate and onto what I wanted to find out. “Did they tell you about Roman bath hygiene?”
He shrugged, looking uninterested.
“They probably got out of the baths dirtier than they went in,” I told him. “The bath water was covered with scum from the oil they rubbed on themselves, not to mention filled with dead skin andpiss because they so rarely drained the baths. And then there were the worms. Because Romans ate loads of fermented fish sauce, tapeworms were common, and of course, the unclean baths spread them to anyone who’d managed to avoid being infected.”
“Thanks for that.” Charlie wrinkled his nose, disgusted. Score one for Alex Teague’s love of useless historical facts.
“I’ve spent too much of my life reading history,” I confessed. “I guess it’s to be expected when you’re descended from someone as famous as King Arthur.”
“Nate and I went to the Baths once,” he said, ignoring my statement. “We came home and roleplayed a Roman Centurion and his body slave. I made Nate come so hard he blacked out.”
Oh my God, was Charlie twelve years old? “Well, I hope you didn’t rim him,” I said. “You wouldn’t want a tapeworm stuck in your teeth.”
As his colour rose alarmingly, I turned on my heel and left. What the hell had Nate seen in him? But also, and I supposed more importantly, there hadn’t been aflickerat my mention of Arthur. Surely there would have been if he knew of his father’s plan. Or what wethoughtwas his father’s plan.
As he didn’t know anything, there was no need to waste time talking to him ever again. I was grateful for small mercies.
Chapter Eight
NATE
