Chapter 7: Easy Virtue and Scoundrels

"[A]muse yourself with rousing my jealousy; but take care you don't rouse my hate instead."

-Anne Brontë

Before that evening, Elissa would not have thought twice about Lady Oleanna.

She was someone she considered merely as a nodding acquaintance, one of the many heiresses one ran into during the social season in various Fereldan circles. But that evening, as Elissa glanced down towards the opposite end of the long dining room table, she paid closer attention to the fair-haired, green-eyed young woman, growing annoyed at herself for trying to establish comparisons between them. It didn't help that Nathaniel had been seated beside her and engaged in conversation with her throughout the dinner. She forced herself to look away once she caught a glimpse of Oleanna laughing brightly at something Nathaniel had said, his own gaze downcast and a faint smile lingering on his lips.

Elissa found herself at a loss, unsure of what she could—or should—expect. That Nathaniel would be seated beside Lady Oleanna was no surprise nor should she interpret it as a slight against her; he had mentioned his parents' wishes that he court her. He is expected to spend time with her, she explained to herself, her stomach sinking anytime Oleanna erupted in peals of laughter during what appeared to be a cozy conversation between the two.

What had he said to her earlier? That he could never go through with any plans of engagement with Oleanna?

She raked her fork over her meal, pretending to listen to the dry tale one of the Banns sitting in front of her was telling.

And what if Nathaniel had just said what he'd said that afternoon because he was intent on seducing her? Perhaps he'd only confided in her earlier because his objective had been, all along, to find a way to bed her.

She clenched her silverware tighter and raised her eyes. He was resting his elbow on the table, leaning his cheek over his fist, listening to Oleanna recount something to him.

Perhaps I am looking for more where there is nothing. Maybe she had savored all there was to it already: a pleasant afternoon, an escape from their duties and all the expectations heaped upon them.

She joined in on the polite laughter at the Bann's story, lifting a crystal goblet to her lips.

One more stealthy glance down the table and she immediately regretted it: Oleanna had leaned in, still narrating her story, this time punctuating it with little strokes to his arm as she spoke. Nathaniel remained attentive to her. Not once did she catch his grey eyes searching for her.

Elissa might as well have been forking a heap of ashes into her mouth. She lost her appetite and was struck by a foreboding sense of imprudence when she thought of how easily she had surrendered to Nathaniel Howe's attentions earlier.

Just one more conquest, she imagined, fighting against her jealousy. The truth was that he had merely expressed affection for her, confessed his attraction. He had not promised her anything—all he had done was ask for a renewal of their friendship…and for a kiss. And he'd given her ample opportunity to stop the progression of events that afternoon.

It was I who wanted to pursue those feelings to the end, who sought more because I thought…hoped?...there was more to what we both felt for each other, she admitted. I am the one being foolish right now, she concluded. What could I possibly expect? He has his filial obligations… and I have mine.

As far as it concerned her, the evening was over. The lighthearted, tender feelings he had inspired earlier began to fade, replaced by a sharp sense of embarrassment at how poorly she had interpreted the situation. Had she wanted something more? What more could he possibly want from her? The memory of the afternoon would now be tainted by that misunderstanding, she realized remorsefully. She tried to be pragmatic: as far as first times went, hers had been enjoyable. Maybe over time she would come to remember it with affection rather than regret. Maybe someday she would be able to distinguish between physical attraction and…something deeper.

She placed her silverware down and pushed her plate away.

"Is anything the matter?" a solicitous voice asked beside her. It was a noble—she couldn't remember who it was for the life of her. He'd been occupied talking to the woman seated at his other side. "You appear distraught."

"Indeed," she agreed. "I am sure it's nothing a good night of sleep won't remedy, though."

"You are Bryce's daughter, aren't you?" the man continued amiably.

"Aye," she confirmed.

"Were you among the unfortunate lot of youths that ventured out for the ride to view the Amaranthine Ocean? I don't see how it would vastly differ from enjoying the view from the closer-by inlet…" he asked in a mocking tone.

"I was not," she explained quickly. "I explored some local trails instead."

"I hope you didn't venture out all on your own! Rendon's men seem to be spread out everywhere these days, but there are long, desolate stretches of road coursing Amaranthine that offer some poorly intentioned folk all kind of opportunity for banditry!"

Nosy man.

"I had a reliable guide in Nathaniel Howe," she stated simply, her eyes shifting to the handsome young man who was absorbed, along with his companion, in listening to someone else speak.

"Ah," the man began slowly. "Yes… Nathaniel." He turned his head as well to contemplate him. "Are you two well acquainted?" The question was asked innocently enough, but the man's tone was positively Orlesian in its shrewdness.

"Nathaniel and I are childhood friends. We grew up together," she explained pointedly. "Other than his siblings, I am probably the one friend he has had the longest here."

" I see," the man stated pensively. "So would you say you know him well?"

"As well as most of his oldest friends," she surmised, growing a tad more uneasy at the scrutiny.

She raised a glass of wine to her lips and took a few sips.

"Rumor has it he is a bit of a rake," the man confided, leaning in closer to her. "Would you second that impression?" he grinned.

Elissa choked on her wine and quickly covered her lips with her napkin.

"Are you all right?" The man raised a hand to her arm.

She shakily gasped for breath, thankful the coughing gave her such a good excuse as to why her face was so red at that moment.

"Forgive me: your question surprised me," she finally managed to say. I have known Nathaniel for a long time and I have never known him to act inappropriately towards any lady. But then again, you must excuse my lack of knowledge in this matter; I doubt he would confide in me regarding such affairs," she explained. "Perhaps you ought to be asking this of some of his other acquaintances," she suggested. "I am nothing more than a childhood companion."

She'd meant the comment as a final rebuke to thwart the man's inspection. He appeared to relent.

"Well…Perhaps it is just that, then: a rumor. Such things do have a tendency to dog young men, especially those of better breeding and a striking countenance such as his. He seems amiable enough… Definitely not a wastrel or a braggart… And not a bad lad if he has childhood friends vouching for his character," the man flashed a grin at her. "I appreciate your candor. You see, his name has been uttered quite frequently by my niece lately." He pointed discreetly. "Do you know Oleanna?"

The whole evening had taken a turn for the worse. She couldn't wait to retire to her quarters and be left alone again.

"Only in passing. I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure."

"I should definitely introduce you, then! It would serve her well to have an ally in this endeavor of hers: it appears she fancies Nathaniel enough to see that something more serious comes of it…It might be nice for her to have a friend provide some insights as to the interests of the object of her affections," the man offered.

"I'm afraid I'd be of little help." She slipped her hands beneath the table, over her knees. They had begun to tremble slightly. "Unless she'd like to know what some of his more obvious tells are at Wicked Grace…"

The man laughed, amused.

"So tell me something," he began again, to her enormous chagrin.

She peered up courteously, a tight smile over her lips.

"Were you caught in that horrid downpour this afternoon?"

She inhaled deeply.

Maker give me patience…