Page 57 of Unmasking the Silver Heiress
His heart seemed to clench, painful, knotted, and then release as though twenty years of pain had pushed past the dam he'd built, sloshing over the top and pouring out into his chest.
He felt the tears on his cheeks before he registered producing them.
He wasn't the only one crying. Aunt Susan too had her fists at her mouth and sobs in her throat, but it was clear to anyone who looked that these were happy tears, for somehow she smiled through them, surrounded by the glow of her own happiness.
Nate knew he could not dissolve into a sobbing mess in front of his staff, much less his family, and so he strode across the room and pulled Kit into a tight embrace instead, relying on the movement and warmth of the gesture to mitigate his roiling emotions.
"It was your wife's idea," Kit whispered to Nate as they broke apart. "I would never have thought you wanted it."
"I didn't," Nate replied, dazed with his own emotion. "I would have declined. But now that I have it, I cannot imagine ever parting with it. What a gift!"
"Are you still talking about the painting?" Kit said with a nudge, nodding toward little Eleanor.
His wife was standing apart from the others, hope and uncertainty painted onto her face. She held her hands clasped in front of her, the wedding band caught in the ring of ballroom light.
She bit her lip, as she was wont to do when uncertain. The hope in her face, the eagerness to please him, could have broken his heart all over again.
He closed the space between them, and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her firmly and decisively, so that she would always know beyond a doubt that she was an Atlas now, and would never be so welcome anywhere as she was in his embrace.
Chapter 25
By the night of Epiphany, the ache in Nell's fingers had finally begun to subside.
It had been impossible to tear herself away from that harp. Its notes were clear and bright, the strings such a perfect balance of taut and supple, responding to every pluck of her fingers and every glide of her hand with the most deliciously beautiful music.
She hadn't ever been able to lose herself in her music like this before. At school, lessons were on a rigid schedule, and at home, there was no harp to play. At Meridian, she could create music until her fingers were too stiff to move and her callouses were pronounced enough to inspire a stern lecture from Sarah on the appropriate state of a lady's hands.
It had taken several rounds of argument before Sarah understood that the callouses must form, otherwise there would be blistering and bleeding anew every time she played her instrument again. It had been a hard-won battle, but won nonetheless.
After all, what did it matter this time of year, anyhow? Every venture out of doors required gloves, and tonight was no exception. Along with her face behind her feathered mask, her unladylike callouses were similarly disguised beneath elbow-length gloves of jade-colored silk.
"You have to put your mask on before we alight," she said to Nathaniel, who was openly admiring her from across the carriage, the ribbons at the edges of his glossy black mask twined around his fingers.
"You will have to assist me," he replied easily, beckoning her to join him on his bench. "I simply did not wish to have my vision obstructed for as long as you were mine alone to admire."
"Oh, stop it." She laughed, making her way over with a careful gathering of her feather-lined skirts and situating herself next to her husband. She slid the mask from his grip, the ribbons sliding over his fingers and into her lap as she allowed him to lean forward and capture her lips with his own; a kiss for their last moments of privacy for the evening.
"Are you certain there were no further instructions?" he asked, holding himself still as she slid the domino over his eyes, melding it against the line of his brow and the ridge of his nose. "It rather seems too fortunate to be possible."
"Yes, and I am relieved by it. Are you not? The last thing I want to do right now is engage in dishonesty and subterfuge. I have come to treasure Gigi as a friend, and the idea of betraying her trust sits ill within me."
"I understand," he said softly, as Nell's hands pulled neat knots in the ribbons securing his mask. "I am simply surprised that there was nothing in the letter beyond the instruction to 'attend and enjoy' this literal masquerade."
"Well, there was also the invoice," Nell said with a sheepish laugh, which was immediately met by one of genuine amusement from her husband.
She had purchased a print from Zelda's store as Nathaniel's Christmas gift, one she had run after their elopement, featuring a fairly accurate rendering of Nathaniel unveiling a bride with yet another veil on underneath. At the bottom, it sported the captionMP Marries Mystery Maiden.
It now sat propped against the mirror on the vanity table in their bedroom.
She colored a bit at her aunt's miserly behavior, and added, "Which, of course, I will pay of my own reserves. I assure you."
"Whatever the cost, it was well worth it," he assured her, turning before she could finish smoothing his hair over the ribbons and capturing her chin with his fingers. "Now, come kiss a strange man in a mask before your husband discovers us."
Her giggles were caught by the kiss, dissolving between them in a final, stolen moment before the carriage eased to a slick halt on the frosty cobbles outside of La Falaise.
Nathaniel looked like a seductive demon in his mask, hammered into a swirling design that ended in sharp points just beneath his eyes. It was too dark to tell what color they would appear to be when ringed by the dark leather, though Nell was finding that the longer she spent gazing into those eyes, the more constant they appeared to be, a color all their own that she was finding she enjoyed very much.
She leaned back and lifted her own mask by its handle over her eyes. "Do I look mysterious?" she asked somberly.
