Page 13 of Unmasking the Silver Heiress
"Of course I will," he said with a little sigh. “We can disappoint her together.”
* * *
Nate watchedhis wife scurry away with a kind of helpless paralysis, seeing no obvious route of escape as Lady Silver turned her shrewd, gleaming eyes toward him.
Nell had those eyes, he realized, though while hers reminded him of storm clouds over the sea, her aunt's were pure, polished steel. Or perhaps silver was the more appropriate comparison, he thought with a glimmer of amusement.
She took her time pouring herself a cup of tea, dropping a single cube of sugar into it with a resoundingplop, all the while watching to see what he might do or say. It was a common technique in negotiations, he knew. Silence often prompted much more fascinating insights spilling from the lips of the person opposite you than any question or query might do.
Luckily, he was well practiced in the art of remaining silent, and simply settled back into his chair, lacing his fingers together, and gave her a placid smile as she began her ritual of stirring the sugar and milk into her perfectly curated cup of tea.
She seemed to find his reaction amusing, or at least he thought that's what the glint in her eye conveyed. She took a delicate little sip of the tea, so little that he couldn't be entirely sure she'd actually consumed any of it, and made a long ritual of setting the cup back in its saucer and adjusting it to her aesthetic satisfaction.
"It was an unexpected move, on your part," she commented lightly, glancing up at him as though she'd just remembered he was there. "What could a girl like Eleanor have tempted you with, especially opposite that glittering diamond of a socialite you were courting? It is hardly a wonder that I am suspicious."
"Suspicious of what?" he queried, his posture still languid but fixed. "In order to pursue the thief, it became necessary to compromise your niece. I did what any decent man might do."
"A decent man might have pursued the thief with Peter rather than Nell," she replied.
"Your nephew was not roused by the commotion, and there was precious little time to take action. All the same, I find it surprising that you, who seem to dote on the girl so much, think so very little of her appeal as a woman."
She gave the faintest snort, leaning forward to snatch her teacup back up. Evidently he had won the first round of will against her. "Overtaken by lust, were you?" she snapped. "Mr. Atlas, I love my niece, but let us not pretend she is a skilled seductress or otherwise some tempting English rose, just begging to be plucked."
"She has other qualities," he said, careful not to allow a sharp edge into his words. "I have come to believe we will be rather well matched as husband and wife."
She grinned at him, her teeth flashing like a cat's just before it pounces. "Have you, now? Oh, I'm certain you've got the next several years planned out already."
"I have an inkling," he said with a shrug. "One must not barrel through life completely unprepared."
"Indeed not." She took another sip of her tea, considering him. "As it happens, I have a task for the two of you that is immediately benefited by these hasty nuptials. I expect you to accept it and graciously, for you have robbed Eleanor of a prosperous future."
"What future is that? I am hardly destitute."
"No, but your money is yours, not hers. A spinster has far more freedom and fun than a wife does, as far as I'm concerned. It was my hope to shape her into my successor and leave her this shop. I still might."
"The shop?" he repeated with a raise of his eyebrows. "Not the Silver Leaf?"
"They are one and the same. Do not be insolent with me, young man." She tutted, setting down her teacup without the faintest concern for how pleasingly it landed this time. "It is too late to grouse over it now. What's done is done, and I expect such brashness to benefit all of us in the end."
"I'm listening," Nate said, giving a respectful tilt of his head. He did not want to push this woman to antagonism, no matter how tempting the verbal jousting was. "How may we serve?"
"Good of you to ask. You will take your new wife home, first and foremost, and send out proud announcements of your wedded status."
"I have already brought her home," he said. "I can send out notices today. Eleanor led me to believe you would wish to have the information first."
"She is correct," Mrs. Smith said, without elaboration. "However, you have not yet brought her home. Your townhouse in London is little more than a pied-a-terre for your constant political ventures. It is not where you install a wife. You must take her to your ancestral home, in Kent."
"Kent?" he repeated, momentarily dumbfounded. He blinked, forcing himself back into his bearings despite the queasy swell that rose in his stomach. "No one has lived at Meridian in decades. It is likely little more than a ruin now."
"You'll find that isn't the case," she replied with a smirk. "I'm sure you already know that I was a great intimate of your parents, Nathaniel. Did you think I'd let you leave their home behind to crumble into the dirt? No. No, my boy, no. I made a promise to your parents and I have kept it. You will need to provide dressing and a staff, but Meridian’s shell has been well kept these last years. I will fetch you the keys. Your aunt keeps the other set, since that nasty business with your uncle. Shame about that, honestly. Just a moment."
"My parents," he echoed hollowly.
It was too late. She had risen and floated off to some unknown destination in the rear of the flat, just as Nell and her brother reappeared from the top of the staircase.
She looked around with her brow furrowed and turned to meet Nate's eye with far more concern than he thought the situation merited, even considering all the context.
"Ah, good," Zelda sang, clipping back into the room with a set of brass keys on a large ring. "I shan't have to repeat myself now. Eleanor, you are to make to Kent with your husband here and take up your rightful place at his ancestral estate."
