“It is for an excellent cause. Stratton is raising money for those injured in factory accidents. They are often just cast out on the streets and lose everything as they can no longer work,” Michael said.
“We should really do more,” Zach sighed.
“We protect our king. I’m not sure what more you think we could do?” Nathan asked.
“More for those that do not sleep in satin sheets and have everything laid out for them, I mean.”
“Very well, we shall think on it,” Nathan added. “And I have never slept in satin sheets.”
“You should try it,” Zach said with a sly smile. “Very restful.”
Nathan simply cuffed him over the back of the head.
“Come, we are to participate in the race now,” Zach said to Mary when he’d smoothed his hair.
“And this interests me why?”
“Because I need someone to guide me, and you are likely the only one here with a few intelligent thoughts and will not see me in a pond.” Zach’s smile was mocking. “Of course you’re excluded from that comment, Miss Carlow.”
“I’m excessively grateful,” Beth replied.
“I’d rather guide a rodent.” Mary’s brows lowered.
“And they are off again,” Nathan muttered, moving to where Beth stood alone. “Come, you can guide me.”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her elbow free of his grip. “I wish to look at the fair and purchase some things.”
What she wanted was to get away from him, Nathan knew.
“We don’t often get what we want” was all he said, grabbing her elbow again. “Now move your feet.”
She had to or fall on her face.
“Let me go, Nathan.”
“I do believe you’ve said that more than once today.”
“And yet still you are not listening to me,” she snapped.
Swallowing his smile, he led her behind the still arguing Zach and Mary to where a group had gathered.
“Why do you think they argue constantly?” he asked Beth.
“Because your brother treats her like she is not as intelligent as him.”
“That’s harsh. He’s a good man, just high-spirited,” Nathan defended Zach.
“High spirits are the term given to any number of indiscretions performed, when in fact what they are is badly behaved men who are far too puffed up with self-importance. Men who are also far too used to having their own way.”
She’d never spoken this way before. Nathan found that once the surprise passed, he liked the forthright manner. He was sorry he’d not seen it before now.
He’d loved her, yes, but there had been times he’d wanted her opinion on things and all she’d say was “whatever you wish, Nathan.” Or “I agree with you, Nathan.”
“Why did you not speak to me like this before?”
“I was too busy simpering and being agreeable.”
“You’re actually taught that?”
