He decided to let her have her way. He opened the door to leave, then turned around again.
"Sara?"
"Yes?"
"You aren't at all afraid of me, are you?"
He looked quite astonished. It was as though the truth had just dawned on him. She shook her head. "No."
He turned around again so she wouldn't see his smile.
"Nathan?"
"What?"
"I was a little afraid of you when I first saw you," she admitted. "Does that make you feel better?"
His answer was to shut the door.
The minute she was alone again she burst into tears. Oh, what a naive fool she'd been. All those wasted years of dreaming about her wonderful knight in golden armor coming to claim her for his bride. She'd imagined him to be a gentle, understanding, sensitive man who was thoroughly in love with her.
Her dreams mocked her. Her knight was more tarnished than golden. He had just proven to be as understanding, as compassionate, as loving as a goat.
Sara continued to feel sorry for herself until exhaustion overcame her.
Nathan looked in on her again an hour later. Sara was sound asleep. She hadn't bothered to remove her clothes but slept on top of the multicolored quilt. She rested on her stomach, her arms thrown wide.
A feeling of contentment settled inside him. It was a strange, altogether foreign feeling, but he found he actually liked seeing her in his bed. He noticed Nora's wedding band was still on her finger. Odd, but he didn't like seeing that at all. He pulled the ring off her finger just to rid himself of his own irrational irritation and put the band in his pocket.
He turned his attention to taking Sara's clothes off. After he'd unbuttoned the long row of tiny clasps down her back he eased the gown off. Her shoes and stockings came next. He was awkward with the task, and the petticoats almost defeated him. The knot in the string was impossible to untie. Nathan used the tip of his knife to cut the string away. He kept at the chore until he'd stripped his bride of all but her silk chemise. The white garment was extremely feminine, with lace edging the scooped neckline.
He gave in to his urge and brushed the back of his hand down her back.
Sara didn't wake up. She let out a little sigh in her sleep and rolled over onto her back just as Nathan was tossing the rest of her garments on the nearby chair.
Nathan didn't have any idea how long he stood there staring at her. She looked so innocent, so trusting, so damned vulnerable when she slept. Her eyelashes were black, thick, startling against the creaminess of her skin. Her body was magnificent to him. The fullness of her breasts, only partially concealed by the flimsy chemise, aroused him. When he realized he was physically reacting to her he turned to leave the cabin.
What in God's name was he going to do with her? How could he ever maintain his distance from someone as enticing as his bride?
Nathan put those questions aside when a wave of seasickness hit him. He waited until his stomach quit lurching so violently, then lifted the blanket from the hook and covered Sara. His hand touched the side of her face, and he couldn't help but smile when she instinctively rubbed her cheek against his knuckles. She reminded him of an affectionate little kitten.
She turned, and her mouth touched his skin. Nathan abruptly pulled his hand away. He left the room and went to look in on Sara's aunt. Nora appeared to be sleeping peacefully. She looked pale, and her breathing was labored, but she didn't seem to be in much pain. Her expression was serene. Nathan remembered the ring in his pocket. He walked over to the side of the bed, lifted her hand, and slipped the band back on.
Nora opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Thank you, dear boy. I'll rest much easier now that I have my Johnny's ring back."
Nathan acknowledged her gratitude with a curt nod, then turned and walked back to the door. "You think I'm a sentimental fool, don't you?" she called out.
His smile was quick. "Aye," he answered. "I do."
His blunt honesty made her chuckle. "Have you spoken to Sara yet?" she asked.
"I have."
"Is she all right?" Nora asked. She wished he'd turn around so she could see his expression.
"She's sleeping," Nathan announced. He opened the door and started out.
"Wait," Nora called out. "Please don't leave yet." He reacted to the tremor he heard in her voice and immediately turned around again. "I'm very frightened," Nora whispered.
Nathan shut the door and walked back over to the old woman's side. His arms were folded across his chest. He looked relaxed, save for the frown on his face. "You needn't be afraid," he told her. His voice was soft, soothing. "You're safe now, Nora."
She shook her head. "No, you misunderstand," she explained. "I'm not afraid for myself, dear boy. My worry is for you and Sara. Do you have any idea what you're letting yourself in for? You can't possibly know what those men are capable of. Not even I understood the depths to which they would sink for greed. They'll come after you."
Nathan shrugged. "I'll be ready," he answered. "The Winchesters aren't a challenge to me."
"But dear boy, they-"
"Nora, you don't know what I'm capable of," he countered. "When I tell you I'll be able to handle any challenge, you'll just have to believe me."
"They'll use Sara to get to you," Nora whispered. "They'll hurt her if they have to," she added with a nod.
"I protect what's mine." His voice was hard, emphatic.
His arrogance actually calmed her, too. She slowly nodded. "I believe you will," she said. "But what about the Winchester women?"
"Do you mean all of them, or one specifically?"
"Sara."
"She'll do all right," he said. "She isn't a Winchester any longer. She's a St. James. You insult my capabilities when you worry about her safety. I take care of my possessions."
"Possessions?" she repeated. "I've never heard a wife referred to in quite that fashion."
"You've been away from England long years, Nora. Nothing's changed in all that while, though. A wife is still a husband's possession."
"My Sara's very tenderhearted," Nora said, turning the topic a bit. "These past years haven't been easy for her. She's been considered an outsider because of the marriage contract. Some would say she was a leper in her own family. Sara was never allowed to attend any of the functions young ladies so look forward to. The fuss was always made over her sister Belinda."
Nora paused to take a breath, then continued. "Sara's fiercely loyal to her parents and her sister, of course, though for the life of me I can't understand why she would give any of them the time of day. You'd best beware of Sara's sister, for she's as cunning as her Uncle Henry. They're cut from the same evil bolt."
"You worry too much, Nora."
"I just want you to understand… Sara," she whispered.
The wheeze was back in her voice, and it was obvious that she was becoming weary. "My Sara's a dreamer," she continued. "Look at her drawings, and you'll understand what I'm saying. Her head's in the clouds most of the time. She sees only the goodness in people. She doesn't want to believe her father is like his brothers. I place the blame on Sara's mother, of course. She's lied to her daughter all these years, made up excuses for each and every sin the others committed."
Nathan didn't comment.
"Dear boy," she began again.
His sudden frown stopped her. "Madam, I'll make a pact with you," Nathan said. "I'll refrain from calling you old woman if you'll quit calling me your dear boy. Are we in agreement?"
Nora smiled. She was squinting up at the giant of a man. His very presence seemed to swallow up the room. "Yes, calling you dear boy was rather foolish," she agreed with a chuckle. "Do I have your permission to call you Nathan?"