“Don’t.” Bridget withdrew her hand from her aunt’s grasp.
“No, listen to me. You’re all I have left, so you’ll keep yourself safe. Lest you want to send me to my grave too.”
“Oh, Aunt! Don’t say such things.” Bridget leaned forward and embraced her aunt.
“Promise me, Bridget.”
“I promise,” Bridget said, crossing her fingers. Aunt Marianne simply didn’t understand. She could not let another innocent man be condemned as a murderer for all eternity. Her papa’s friend would not suffer the same fate he had. She could not let it happen.
Bridget finished her tea and took Bijou outside. He immediately shot across the lawn, raced around like a demon, and then flopped onto his back and rolled happily in the grass. She strolled after him, unconcerned about Bijou’s safety now that the daffodils were gone.
It was still early. She needed to talk to Nate, but she supposed he wouldn’t be awake yet. She simply couldn’t understand why he hadn’t told her about Collins yesterday. Why not, unless he had something to hide? The thought that he was hiding something from her—that hewas responsible for what happened to Collins—made her stomach clench. She didn’t think that she could withstand another betrayal. She pressed a hand against her abdomen, closed her eyes, and took a deep, calming breath. Her body relaxed.
When she opened her eyes, she saw three figures toward the edge of the garden. She blinked. One of them was Nate. He was crouched down talking to his son, who stood next to his nanny. Bridget watched as Nate picked up the child and gave him a warm hug before setting him down again. The nanny took Henry by the hand and led him back to the villa. Nate slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and watched them go. Bridget could see the heartbreak on his face.So this is the only way for him to spend time with his son now. How cruel of Lady Luxton. How selfish and vain of her to use her child against his father.
Nate walked toward her, a smile playing on his lips, and her heart melted.How could I have doubted him? What is wrong with me? Will I ever be able to trust anyone again?
“You’re up early,” Bridget said as Nate came toward her.
“Henry is an early riser. He eats in his nursery, and then his nanny takes him for a long walk. That seems to be his routine. Crossing paths with them allows me to spend a few moments in his company.” Nate looked down at his black boots. “It’s better than nothing.”
“I’m sorry,” Bridget said. This time, her heart clenched instead of her stomach.
Nate looked up and smiled, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What about you? Why are you up so early?”
“I prefer to breakfast with Aunt Marianne. Also, I wanted to talk to you. We didn’t get to speak last night after I saw…well. The blood. And then this morning, I heard about Mr. Collins from Harriet. She said someone beat him within an inch of his life.” She searched his face for a reaction.
Nate ran a hand through his dark curls. “Yes, it was awful.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about it yesterday when I saw the bloodon your waistcoat?”
Nate sighed. “I was exhausted, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it.”
“You didn’t”—she hesitated—“get into a fight with him, did you?”
Nate took a step back. “You thinkIbeat him?”
“No! I—I mean, of course not. But why did you have blood on your shirt?”
“Because the magistrate and I found him lying in a pool of his own blood, and we carried him inside his cottage to tend to his wounds. I got some blood on my waistcoat in the process of helping him.”
“Oh.” Relief coursed through Bridget’s veins.
“You can check with Magistrate Hunt if you don’t believe me,” Nate said, coldly.
“Of course, I believe you,” Bridget said.
“But you doubted me. Youstilldon’t trust me. After all this time!”
“You have every right to be cross,” Bridget said. “After everything you have done for me, yes, I still have mistrust and skepticism in my heart.” She shook her head. “My old, trusting self has gone. And sometimes I think I shall never get her back.”
Nate’s expression softened. “You’ve been through a terrible ordeal with your papa and the murders last summer. It’s no wonder you’ve lost faith in people.” He reached for her hands and clasped them in his, sending a swarm of butterflies swirling in her stomach. “Bridget,” he said, “I don’t care how long it takes, I’m here to help you regain that trust. Whatever happens, know that I would never do anything to betray or hurt you.”
Bridget’s throat went dry, and her legs felt somewhat weak as she looked into Nate’s deep blue eyes.
“Bridget,” he whispered, leaning toward her.
Kiss me.Bridget closed her eyes and waited for the feel of Nate’s lips on hers. She’d never wanted anything so badly in her life.
