Page 11 of Hunted By the Guardian
“No, I can see that you can’t…but I do wonder why,” Nathaniel said. “I mean, I don’t think the reason is that you truly believe it’s the only way to get her out of the house. I think you have some fascination with her that you haven’t fully explored.”
“How can you suggest that? I told you, she’s nothing but a stubborn lady who is keeping me from what I want. The only fascination I have is with how to get her out of that house. She’s an obstacle to my goal, nothing more!”
“Your face is red,” Nathaniel observed mildly.
Jonathan’s hand flew to his cheek. Sure enough, it was hot. “That’s just the drink,” he mumbled.
“Maybe it is,” Nathaniel agreed. “Or maybe it’s something else. Maybe it’s the fact that talking about her excites you. She is pretty, I noticed that when I met her before.”
Jonathan’s irritation mounted. “When have you known my head to be turned by a pretty face?”
“So you agree that she is pretty?”
“I’m saying it doesn’t matter. I can’t see why you would think it would. You know me better than that.”
Nathaniel shrugged. “It never mattered to Gabriel, until the day it began to matter,” he pointed out. “He never cared for a pretty face either until he set eyes on Agnes, and suddenly that was all he cared about. Suddenly he was lost to her charms. I’m not blind to the thought that same thing could happen to you.”
“You really are being foolish,” Jonathan said dismissively. “Or perhaps you fear that now that we’ve lost one friend to marriage, you’ll lose all your friends in a similar way. I can assure you, that isn’t going to be my tale. That’s not what’s happening here at all. I’m eager for her to leave the house.”
“And if she did, you would go on staying there?”
“Well, of course I wouldn’t. I would leave as well, if she left. There would be no more reason for me to be there,” Jonathan pointed out.
“That does sound as if your reason has to do with her presence. I’m sure you can see that.”
Jonathan sighed. “Nathaniel, you have always had a penchant for the dramatic, but right now you are creating a tale where nothing at all exists, and I encourage you to set it aside,” he told his friend. “Now, we came out here to have a drink together, not to make up stories about the lady who is trying to take my house from me.”
And so saying, he picked up his drink and punctuated his sentence with a long swallow, and it seemed that for now, at least, the topic was closed.
CHAPTER 7
“Noah?”
Violet was pleased to see that the usual scowl was missing from Noah’s face when he looked up at her—but she was not happy to see an anxious expression there. He looked as though he had been caught in the act of doing something wrong. “What is it?” she asked him. “Is something the matter?”
“I wasn’t doing anything.” He had been lying on his stomach, but now he scrambled to his feet and took a quick step backward as though trying to distance himself from something. She looked at the place where he had been lying and saw a fat earthworm on the ground.
“Were you playing with that worm?” she asked.
The scowl began to creep back over his face. “What if I was?” he asked. “I’ve always been allowed to before. But I guess you think that’s not appropriate?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything of the kind,” she told him. “Earthworms can be very interesting creatures.”
His expression grew suspicious. “You mean to say that you don’t mind me playing with them?”
“Well, I’d prefer that you didn’t bring them into the house,” she said with a smile. “I think the worms would probably prefer that too, truth be told. They like living outside. But it doesn’t bother me at all that you look at them out here. That seems a natural enough thing for a boy to be curious about.”
“Most ladies think that worms are dirty,” he pointed out.
Violet laughed. “They are dirty,” she said. “They live in the dirt. But there isn’t anything wrong with that. Lots of wonderful things live in the dirt—like flowers. Do you like flowers?”
“I like some flowers,” Noah said. “Not daisies.”
“Well, that’s all right. I don’t see any daisies here.”
“That’s because Madam Margaret didn’t like them either,” Noah said, looking down at his worm. “She said they were dull.”
“That’s right,” Violet said suddenly. “I do remember that. She used to say that to me when I was a little girl. She said daisies weren’t very elegant, and she was sure some people liked them and that was fine, but they would never be in her garden.”
