Nathaniel observed the subtle shift in the crowd’s response. Where there had once been polite curiosity, there was now interest. In fact, it felt more like respect, and he felt a quiet satisfaction at that that he had not anticipated.
“You have altered your approach,” he said as they paused near the fountain. “You no longer seem cautious.”
“That is because I am not.”
“What changed?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Well, clarity, I suppose.”
“About?”
“My position in society.”
“And what is your position?”
She looked at him directly.
“Beside you.”
The simplicity of it caught him off guard.
“And you are comfortable there?” he asked.
“I am capable here. It is enough, and though I did not think so before, I am beginning to see that it is indeed the case. Would you not agree?”
That answer pleased him more than comfort would have. He nodded in agreement, for he truly was happy that she felt that way. He liked the way she looked beside him, too, and he had begun to feel a comfort in her presence that he had been hoping to avoid, but he could not deny that he liked it.
Across the lawn, he noticed several observers watching them closely. Whispers passed between two women beneath a striped parasol. Margaret followed his line of sight.
“Let them look,” she said quietly.
“I always do.”
“I know. I was telling myself more than you.”
He glanced at her. She was not shrinking beneath the attention. She was almost enjoying it, if anything.
A group approached then; acquaintances of his, ones that were politically useful, yet socially restless. He introduced Margaret, and once again she spoke easily. She asked intelligent questions, redirected praise toward charitable efforts rather than personal vanity, laughed when appropriate, and not once did she look to him for rescue.
He found himself watching her more than participating once more.
When the musicians began a brighter arrangement near the fountain, one of the guests requested a promenade around the central lawn. Couples began to pair off. Nathaniel extended his arm, and Margaret accepted it without pause.
As they joined the slow circuit, the crowd parted subtly before them. Nathaniel became aware of something else. London was adjusting its assessment, and as Margaret moved beside him with quiet assurance, he recognized that it was becoming most favorable.
But the weather did not mirror how he felt.
The first drop of rain suddenly struck the gravel with so little warning that no one noticed. The second landed squarely on Lady Halworth’s sleeve.
Within moments the sky opened. Gasps turned to startled laughter, parasols snapped open too late, and musicians scrambled to shield their instruments. Clothing darkened in uneven patches as guests scattered toward the pavilions and veranda.
Nathaniel did not hesitate.
“This way,” he said quietly, guiding Margaret off the main path.
He steered her toward the far edge of the lawn where an old oak stood wide and dense, its branches thick enough to blunt the downpour. The ground beneath it remained mostly dry. They reached it just as the rain deepened.
From a distance, they would still be visible. He was aware of that. Even so, he removed his coat without conscious thought and settled it over her shoulders. The fabric covered her gown almost entirely.
