How to Turn a Frog into a Prince (Happy Ever Regency Book 5)

by Bree Wolf

  And then one day it happened.

  Daphne and Susan were once again wading through the water, the net leaning long-since forgotten against a tree trunk, when Charlaine almost slipped on a smooth rock below the surface and lost her footing. Her heart jumped into her throat a moment before two warm hands settled upon her arms, righting her before she tumbled into the water.

  Looking up, she found Nathanial’s concerned gaze meeting hers. “Are you all right?” he asked before his eyes swept over her as though looking for injuries.

  “I’m fine,” Charlaine exclaimed. “Thank you. You saved me.” She glanced down. “But not my hem.” Laughter spilled from her lips as she lifted her dripping skirts out of the water.

  Nathanial frowned. “Or my boots.” Water sloshed over the rim, soaking them from the inside out.

  “You should take them off,” Charlaine suggested, not for a second believing that he would.

  To her utter shock, however, Nathanial nodded. “I suppose I better.” As he stalked back to shore, Charlaine stared after him, watching like a child on Christmas morning as he sat down in the tall grass and then pulled off his boots, poured out the water and then set them aside to dry.

  A moment later, Nathanial came wading back into the lake. “What?” he asked as he found her staring at him.

  Quickly, Charlaine shook her head. “Nothing.” A part of her worried that if she drew his attention to what he had just done, everything would be ruined.

  From then on, Nathanial always removed his boots before going into the lake and, every once in a while, Charlaine caught him sighing contentedly as he wiggled his toes in the fresh grass.

  “Mr. Caswell is a very patient man,” Emma remarked one day as they watched Nathanial teach the girls how to bounce a pebble across the lake. “Look how determined they are.”

  Seated on a picnic blanket under a large tree, Charlaine and Emma observed the girls’ rather slow progress. “Oh, I believe he enjoys it as well.” She grinned at her friend, setting aside her charcoal drawing of the scene before her. “He simply prefers to pretend otherwise.”

  Emma chuckled. “You seem to know him well.” Her gaze narrowed in thought. “May I ask—?”

  “We’re friends,” Charlaine rushed to say, surprising herself with her eagerness to clarify their relationship. “I mean, I do care for him, but there’s nothing between us beyond friendship.” She grinned at her friend. “I can see what direction your thoughts are running.”

  Emma chuckled. “How can they not?” She frowned, her gaze thoughtful as she looked at her. “Are you certain you’re not hoping for something more?” Once again, she glanced at Nathanial. “He seems quite taken with you.”

  Charlaine could not deny that she had never felt more comfortable in a man’s company than she did in Nathanial’s. But…he was her friend, was he not? “When first we met, he made it very clear that he had no interest in any kind of romantic attachment.” She chuckled, remembering his attempts to rid himself of her presence. “He was quite rude, to tell you the truth. It took great effort to break through his defenses.”

  Emma frowned. “And yet, you never gave u—”

  “He wants a friend,” Charlaine interrupted, knowing where Emma’s thoughts were at. “More than that, he needs a friend. Someone who is open and honest with him. Someone who does not pursue a hidden agenda. He’s been hurt, and he needs to learn to trust again.”

  “I think he trusts you.”

  Charlaine smiled. “I hope so.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Nature of Men

  Upon entering the house, Emma ushered the girls upstairs for a bath before supper. Nathanial grimaced for it seemed, despite his best efforts, some lake water had remained in his boots. The water squished loudly as he walked across the hardwood floor. “I have no idea how this can be,” he remarked, a deepening frown coming to his forehead. “They felt dry when I checked them only a little while ago.”

  Charlaine bit her lower lip, trying her best to hide a grin. Still, the second Nathanial looked up at her, incredulity in his eyes, she was lost. She burst out laughing until her sides ached.

  Nathanial huffed out an annoyed breath, fixing her with a dark glare. “Oh, you think this is funny?” Then he stilled, his eyes slowly narrowing as he watched her carefully. “Did you have something to do with this?”

  Fanning her heated face, Charlaine met his gaze, breathing in slowly, trying to calm enough in order to speak. “Whatever do you mean?” As much as she tried, though, she could not quite keep a grin off her face.

  Nathanial rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can see quite well that you were innocent in all of this.”

  Charlaine lifted her hands in appeasement. “I did nothing!”

  “But it was your idea, wasn’t it?” Nathanial asked, and a part of her loved how well he knew her. “You – let’s say – inspired the girls?”

  Charlaine grinned at him. “I may have,” she admitted slowly, seeing how he fought the smile that inched onto his face. Then she sighed, stepped toward him and gave him an honest smile. “I’m sorry, Nathanial. I suppose I shouldn’t have.”

  “Then why did you?”

  Charlaine shrugged. “I’m not certain,” she admitted. “Perhaps I simply like to ruffle your feathers, has that never occurred to you? I like the way you roll your eyes at me, the way you try not to laugh, and the way you fight to be so very serious.”

  A warm chuckle rumbled in his throat and, for a second, Charlaine thought that she saw a tinge of red creep onto his cheeks. “Do you now?” he asked as the grin upon his face grew wider.

  “Are you angry with me?”

  Nathanial threw up his hands. “As though I ever could be.” Then he turned and headed up the stairs, glancing over his shoulder at her, a warm smile upon his lips. “I’ll see you at supper.”

  Watching him vanish from sight, Charlaine momentarily contemplated changing herself. Still, her dress only had a few wet spots here and there and hardly any green grass stains at all so she shrugged and headed toward the library instead. Perhaps she ought to pick a good book to read tonight to help her mind drift off to sleep after such an eventful and exciting day.

  As she walked down the corridor, Pierce’s voice called out to her. “Charlie, do you have a moment?”

  Turning toward him, Charlaine stepped past him into his study, her eyes lingering upon his face, noting a slight strain there. “Are you all right? Is Caroline?”

  Closing the door behind her, Pierce heaved a deep sigh, then beckoned her forward, urging her to sit down in the armchair opposite his desk. “Do not worry,” he told her as he seated himself. “We are all fine. I simply meant to speak to you.”

  Charlaine held his gaze. “What is it then? I must admit, you look quite uncomfortable.”

  Pierce chuckled. It was a slightly tense sound. “You may be right about that,” he admitted. Holding her gaze, he inhaled a slow, deep breath, then said, “This is about Nathanial.”

  “Nathanial?” Charlaine frowned. “You speak in riddles, Pierce. Would you please explain yourself?”

  Clearing his throat, he leaned forward and rested his elbows upon his desk. “Very well,” he began, still looking slightly uncomfortable. “I admit I meant to speak to you even before now, though, I never quite found the right moment.”

  Charlaine chuckled. “Or the courage.”

  Pierce grinned at her, then nodded. “Quite true.” He cleared his throat. “Well then, to get this over with: what I meant to speak to you about is your reputation and how it might suffer if you continue to spend time alone with Mr. Caswell.”

  Charlaine fought to suppress a grin. “Mr. Caswell? What happened to Nathanial?”

  Pierce rolled his eyes at her. “Do you have to make this so difficult?”

  “It is not difficult for me,” she remarked with a grin, then sighed. “Are you truly intent on having this conversation?”

  “I am your guardian,” Pierce pointed out, a new stern
ness coming to his features. “Peter entrusted your well-being to me, your future, and I intend to take it seriously.” For a moment, he held her gaze, and his features softened. “You’re family, Charlie, and I only want the best for you. I hope you do not hold it against me.”

  Leaning back in her chair, Charlaine settled herself more comfortably, now completely at ease knowing that no disaster or tragedy awaited her. “I love you as well,” she told him openly, amused by his way of shifting in his seat and dropping his gaze ever so briefly. “However, I do not believe there is a point in speaking about my reputation.”

  Pierce lifted a finger to object. “I disagree. You might not be as familiar with English society as I am, I’m afraid, but I assure you that finding a decent husband will be almost impossible if your reputation is in tatters. People here do not forgive and forget. Not ever. And at some point in your life, you might find yourself at their mercy.”

  Charlaine sighed, knowing full well that her life in England would not be as simple as the one she had left behind. “Pretend all you like,” she told Pierce with more bravado than she felt, “but we both know that being who I am, I’ll never have a chance at a so-called decent husband.”

  All but hanging his head, Pierce sighed. “All right,” he said, his brown eyes lingering upon hers. “I assure you, I do not wish to cage you in any way. I was simply worried and thought to put you on your guard.” For a moment, he remained silent, his gaze still lingering. “Is there a reason why you invited Nathanial here beyond the one you have shared with us?”

  Charlaine tensed, feeling an odd tingle dance over her skin at the underlying suggestion in Pierce’s question. “I do not know what you mean.”

  A slow grin spread over his face. “Let’s just say I believe you,” he remarked, then paused once again. “Do you trust him?”

  “I do,” Charlaine replied without hesitation.

  “Fully?”

  “Yes!”

  For a moment, Pierce’s fingers drummed upon the desktop. “You’ve known him for only a short time,” he pointed out correctly. “How well can you truly know him?”

  “Are you suggesting anything?” she demanded, her own gaze now inquisitive and locked upon his. “For I must say, it does sound as though you are. Are you testing me? Or do you truly distrust him?”

  Again, a chuckle rose from Pierce’s throat. “You know me too well, dearest Charlie. Indeed, Peter was right to put me on my guard about you. You are a handful.”

  Charlaine’s heart paused in her chest. “Are you disappointed?”

  Pierce shook his head, that grin back on his face. “Not in the least. You’re exactly how I remembered you, and I’m glad for it. Strong and resourceful, and I have the utmost faith in your judgment.” Pushing to his feet, Pierce walked around the desk, then held out his hands to her.

  Charlaine grasped them and rose as well.

  “Nonetheless,” Pierce told her with a new warmth in his eyes, “be careful and watchful.” He chuckled. “You don’t know what men are like.”

  Charlaine laughed, loving the way he worried about her. Even though she knew it to be unnecessary, it felt so very good to have someone care in such a profound way. “You are aware, are you not, that that statement says more about you than anyone else? Do I dare ask?”

  Pierce laughed, then took a step back as the desire to flee her question danced across his face. “Whether you ask or not does not matter for I surely won’t answer.”

  Charlaine smirked up at him. “Well, in that case, I’ll just go and ask Caroline.”

  His gaze darkened, but he was still smiling. “Don’t you dare.” Then he gestured toward the door. “Go and change for supper.”

  Charlaine looked down at her dress, then back at him. “Why?”

  Seating himself back behind his desk, Pierce rolled his eyes at her in a very exasperated way. “Forget I said anything,” he replied, then turned back to the papers before him.

  Charlaine left his study with a wide smile upon her face and a lingering warmth in her heart, knowing how truly fortunate she was to have family around her once more.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A Dance in the Meadow

  Nathanial stood in front of the mirror and stared at his reflection.

  What he saw was a man without a jacket or necktie. A man with rolled-up sleeves. A man in old, worn breeches, his hair tousled and a wide smile upon his face.

  A man without shoes!

  It was a man Nathanial hardly recognized.

  Three weeks had passed since his arrival at Markham Hall, and Nathanial had loved every minute of it. Yes, he had been reluctant at first. These days, he woke every morning with a deep longing to begin the day. He could not remember when he had last felt like this. Neither could he remember when he had last slept so well or so much. His insomnia seemed to have retreated a little more every day, his nights now peaceful and refreshing, his limbs rested when he awoke in the morning. Charlaine, as well as the children, had swept him off his feet, pushing him out into the world, demanding he join them.

  And he had.

  Nathanial was strangely proud of himself. Life at Markham Hall had made it easy.

  In London or Boston, Nathanial would have felt self-conscious walking through the house without shoes. It would have felt highly inappropriate, and even the servants would have cast disapproving looks at him. As would have Albert. He, however, had remained in London to see to the management of Caroline’s orphanage.

  Indeed, Markham Hall seemed like straight out of a fairy tale.

  While Pierce and Caroline were lord and lady of the house, they never acted as such. Pierce, too, walked around in casual dress, and Caroline never saw any reason to change her gown three times a day. Everyone wore what was convenient, comfortable and cared not at all about how they were perceived.

  Markham Hall was a tight-knit family, including Donahue, the one-armed butler, who often chased Daphne and Susan across the lawns, howling like a wolf and snapping at their heels as the girls squealed with laughter. Mrs. Colden, the cook, sat down to tea with them every day, her hawk-eyes ever watchful as she gathered the information she needed to run her household smoothly. Sarah, Caroline’s lady’s maid and best friend, spoke freely even to Pierce, her head never bowed in fear, her shoulders never hunched with tension. At Markham Hall, servants were people with hearts and voices, not shadows or ghosts, unseen and unacknowledged.

  Pierce and Caroline treated them as they would the lords and ladies of London and, in return, they received loyalty and devotion.

  Nathanial had never seen anything quite like it.

  But he loved it.

  He could not imagine ever leaving, and so he pushed thoughts of the kind away, chased them into a little box and locked it with everything he had. Why not live in a fairy tale for a little while and pretend the world was good and would always be thus?

  Nathanial offered Charlaine his arm as they walked down the small slope leading from the terrace into the gardens. “Where are the children?” he asked, craning his neck. The lawns, however, remained strangely empty.

  “Do you miss them?” Charlaine inquired with a twinkle in her eyes.

  Nathanial cleared his throat. “Perhaps.”

  The woman at his side laughed, a warm, affectionate laugh that Nathanial had finally come to understand, and it no longer made him feel uncomfortable. “Well, today, it’ll only be the two of us.”

  He frowned.

  “You’re not shocked, are you?” Charlaine asked as they made their way through the small grove. “I haven’t seen you thoroughly shocked in a good while.”

  Nathanial laughed. “I suppose I’m getting used to you and your…oddities.”

  “Oddities?” she demanded, a hint of outrage in her voice that Nathanial knew to be false. “What oddities?”

  Ignoring her, Nathanial looked out at the calm lake. “Will you tell me why they’re not here? Or do you want me to guess?”

  Wiggling her toes,
Charlaine marveled that the soft feel of fresh ground under her feet never ceased to ease her heart and soul. “They slipped away again,” she told him. “Emma was beside herself with worry.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “To the stables,” Charlaine replied with a smile. “They were playing with the new kittens and fell asleep in the hay.”

  Nathanial laughed.

  “Of course, no one knew and Emma looked like she was about to faint when one of the stable boys came running up to the house.” Cocking her head to the side, she frowned at him. “Did you not notice all the commotion last night?”

  Running a hand over his face, Nathanial glanced at her. “I fell asleep.”

  Charlaine’s jaw dropped. “In the middle of the day?”

  He knew she was trying to bait him, but he felt a hint of red come to his face nonetheless. “It was right before supper so not the middle of the day, and, yes, I was exhausted.”

  Charlaine laughed. “You’re looking at me as though this was my fault.”

  “Well…”

  “Are you saying I exhausted you?”

  Nathanial grinned at her. “You all did.”

  She stepped closer, her brown eyes lingering on his. “You don’t sound displeased.”

  “I’m not,” he told her honestly, still surprised at how deeply his life had changed in a matter of weeks. Never in a thousand years would he have seen this coming.

  Never would he have seen her coming.

  She was a unique woman in every way, and she had chosen him to be her friend.

  Nathanial smiled for he had to be the luckiest man in the world.

  “What are you smiling about?” Charlaine demanded with a suspicious twinkle in her eyes.

  “Nothing,” Nathanial hastened to say. “So, the girls are not allowed outside today?”

  “And tomorrow.”

  Nathanial grimaced. “That’ll be hard on them.”

  Sighing, Charlaine nodded. “It will.” She stepped around him and gazed out at the lake. “It feels odd being here without them.” Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, the hint of a wicked grin upon her face. “But I admit I like it. It’s calmer, quieter, rather peaceful.”