by Bree Wolf
“With the exception of you and Pierce, of course,” she amended. “Did you not notice people staring at you whenever you spoke to me? Did you not wonder?”
Nathanial shrugged. “Well, I’m new to Town. I’m an American. I suppose that, too, will draw people’s attention. Zach wrote to me when he first arrived here and he described the ton’s reaction in very much the same manner.”
“While that may be true,” Charlaine replied, “it does not change that nothing can ruin my reputation for it already lies shattered at my feet. Not because of something I did, but because of who I am.” She shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do about that.”
Anger stirred in Nathanial’s heart. “That’s outrageous! I will—!”
Her hand settled on his. “Don’t,” she whispered sweetly. “I’m happy with my life here, with you and…my family.” She glanced in the direction of the house. “I have everything I need.” Eagerness came to her eyes then, and she patted his hand. “Now, it’s my turn to ask a question.”
“Very well.”
“At the wedding,” she began, her brown eyes lingering on his face in a rather watchful way, “I noticed how you kept looking at your sister-in-law. It made me wonder until I realized you were not looking at her, but at the ring upon her finger.” Her brows arched up in question.
Nathanial inhaled a deep breath and, again, his hands rose to run over his face, the tips of his fingers pressing upon his eyes. “It was my father’s,” he said without looking at her. “It is a family heirloom, which he’d given to my mother on the day of their wedding.”
Her hands touched his, urging him to drop them, to look at her.
Finally, he did. “When she died, he gave it to us,” he told her, fighting not to drop his gaze, but to continue holding hers. “It was meant to be passed on to the next generation and the next after that.” He gritted his teeth.
“You feel as though you failed him,” Charlaine observed, her hands still holding on to his.
“I did fail him!” Nathanial snapped, anger and shame once more boiling in his blood. “I gave it to Abigail, thinking that…” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “I was wrong, and my parents’ ring ended up in the hands of an English bastard,” he flinched as the last word tumbled from his lips, “who took it back to England and then lost it in a card game as though it meant nothing.” His hands tightened on hers, and he belatedly realized that she was no longer the one holding on to him, but that he was holding on to her. “If Zach hadn’t managed to locate it, it would have been lost forever.” Staring at her, he shook his head. “Do not tell me I did not fail him for it is clear as day that I did.” He released her hands and rose to his feet.
As Nathanial made to walk away, her voice rose soft and kind behind him. “My father always said that many roads lead to happiness. That it is our duty to ourselves to find the one that is right for us.”
With his back to her, Nathanial barely heard her all but silent approach. Her hands came to rest upon his shoulders, warm and soft and strong, and he inhaled a deep breath. “It was not the ring your father wanted you to pass on to the next generation,” Charlaine told him, her warm breath brushing over his neck. “It was the story of your parents’ love that he wanted to preserve, a story that he hoped would inspire you to find a love of your own. Abigail was not that woman for you, and your father would have been proud to know that you had the strength to walk away and begin again.” Her hands gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze. “You did not fail him. You made him proud.”
Stunned beyond words, Nathanial turned to look at her. Her hands fell from his shoulders and landed in his own. “How can you possibly know that? You never met my father. You cannot know how he—”
“I know because of the way you speak of him,” Charlaine said, her gaze steady as it held his. “I know because I can see how much you loved him. I know because of the man you are, always striving to make your father proud. Only these expectations you’re trying to live up to are not your father’s, are they?” She shook her head. “They’re yours.”
Trying to swallow the lump in his throat, Nathanial tightened his hold on her hands, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles, a comforting motion. “What am I to do? All my life, I’ve wanted to walk in his footsteps, to be the man he was, to…” He hung his head, his gaze searching hers. “What am I to do?”
Stepping forward, Charlaine cupped a hand to his face, a soothing smile upon her lips. “You cannot walk your father’s path and expect to find happiness,” she told him imploringly. “You need to walk your own.” Then she pulled him down into her arms, her own snaking around his shoulders, holding on with a fierceness he had come to expect from her.
Overwhelmed by her words, Nathanial sank into her embrace, breathing in the lavender scent of her skin as he hugged her tightly. She felt so small in his arms, her feet almost lifting off the ground as he straightened, that a part of him feared he could break her. The thought terrified him to the bone, and he pinched his eyes shut.
A soft giggle drifted to his ears. “Oh, would you spin me?” she whispered, exuberance in her voice.
Frowning, Nathanial pulled back and looked down at her, his arms still around her middle. “Pardon me?”
“Would you spin me in a circle?” Charlaine asked, and he could feel her wiggling her feet as they all but dangled in the air. “I’ve always wanted to know what that felt like.” Unadulterated joy stood on her face, and Nathanial found himself swept up in it.
“If you insist,” he said, grinning at her. Then he locked his arms more tightly around her before glancing around them to ensure that no tree stood too close. A moment later, he began to move, his feet stepping on the spot as they turned in circle after circle.
Charlaine’s hands grasped his shoulders as her legs swung outward from the force of the movement. Her eyes were open wide, and laughter spilled from her mouth. “This is wonderful!” she called again and again, and her laughter echoed in his ears long after he went to bed that night. It warmed him and gave him hope because he cared for her.
The thought gave him pause.
After everything that had happened, after his determination not to be made a fool of once more, not to trust another woman ever again, Nathanial realized that he had come to trust Charlaine. She was a good person, genuine and honest. She was a true friend, and he was fortunate that she had found him.
That thought made him smile for it had been her tenaciousness that had led them to where they were now. If it had been up to him, they would have never laid eyes upon each other ever again.
That would have been a grave loss for him.
Perhaps it was that tenaciousness as well as the steadfast belief that happiness could be found anywhere that always led her back to a place where she would not be alone, where people loved her.
It was something to think about.
Chapter Thirty-One
A Storm Approaches
Charlaine clung to the mare’s mane as they raced across the meadow. Her dress had risen to well above her knees for she rode astride and without a saddle. The pressure of her knees kept her upright as she urged the chestnut mare eastward.
Glancing over her shoulder, Charlaine spotted Nathanial slowly gaining ground.
As expected, he had been a bit reluctant when she had proposed they ride without saddles. That adorable, little frown had once more teased his face before his lips had thinned in determination and he had agreed.
Lately, Charlaine had sensed a change in him as though he had come to understand how restrictive his life had been and was now determined to seize opportunities he would have ignored before. It was still an effort for him, but he was trying.
Charlaine was proud of him.
“Do you see those clouds?” Nathanial called over the thundering of their horses’ hooves. He pointed ahead to where the sky began to darken.
“Yes!” was all Charlaine said in answer.
Nathanial rolled his eyes. “What if it rains?”
Pulling on her reins, Charlaine slowed her mare to a trot. “Then we’ll get wet,” she told him with a smirk.
“Soaked, you mean,” Nathanial chuckled before his gaze dropped to her bare legs and then immediately snapped upward, a tinge of red coming to his cheeks. “How much farther do you wish to go?” he asked, urging his gelding ahead of her.
Charlaine smiled at the back of his head. Indeed, old habits died hard! Still, she could not imagine riding a side-saddle with her legs strapped into leather boots on a hot summer’s day like this. No, it was much more preferable to ride bare-legged and feel the soft breeze brush over her skin.
Nathanial would simply have to make his peace with her oddities as he called them.
Over the past few weeks, she had succeeded in persuading him into trying all sorts of things. Most, he had first deemed childish, like climbing a tree, or girlish, like picking flowers. Still, in the end, he had not refused her…and he had enjoyed himself.
“Only a little farther,” Charlaine exclaimed before urging her mare into a gallop once more. “Race you to the horizon!” she called over her shoulder as she shot past him.
A faint chuckle drifted to her ears from behind…and then the skies opened and she felt the first drops of rain land on her heated skin. They felt wonderful and refreshing, and she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the heavens.
“Charlaine!”
At the sound of Nathanial’s voice calling her name, Charlaine reluctantly reined in her mount, then turned to see him pull to a halt only a few paces in front of her. “Isn’t it wonderful?” She held out her hands, palms facing upward as more and more drops began to fall.
He laughed, then cast an uneasy glance at the sky. “We’ll get soaked.”
“I thought we’d already agreed to that.”
He eyed her through narrowed slits. “Are you saying you have no intention of returning to the house before the storm breaks?”
Smiling at him, Charlaine shook her head. Then she opened her mouth to catch a few raindrops on her tongue. “Try it,” she urged him.
Attempting to hide a smile, Nathanial ran a hand over his face, a sure sign that he was uncomfortable or otherwise emotionally overwhelmed. “You’re mad!” he told her, finally allowing his smile to show. “Mad beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”
Charlaine bowed her head. “Thank you, kind sir, for that most wonderful compliment.” She pressed her hands to her heart and blinked her lashes at him. “I shall treasure it always.”
Nathanial laughed. “I’m glad my words are of such amusement to you. But what will Pierce and Caroline think when we return soaked to the skin?”
Charlaine shrugged. “They’ll no doubt laugh about us.” Then she released the reins and let her mare go where she pleased.
The rain slowly grew in intensity as the dark clouds drifted closer. The drops’ splats upon her skin felt heavier and, after a few minutes, Charlaine felt small streams run down her temples as well as her arms and legs. The wind picked up as well, whipping the rain about.
Nathanial urged his gelding closer. “We should return to the house,” he told her with a worrisome glance upward.
Sighing, Charlaine playfully kicked his shin, his skin warm against her own. “Race me to the horizon first, then we’ll ride back,” she dared him, curious to see what he would do. Would he give in or would he stand his ground?
“No!” The moment she made to urge her mare onward again, his hand whipped out and grasped her reins, stopping her from riding off. “We return now,” he told her with a steady gaze. “I’ve seen storms like this before and, believe me, you do not want to be caught outside when they hit.” His eyes held hers, and Charlaine knew that there was no use arguing.
“Very well,” she said with a nod, proud of his insistence. Ever since they had first met, his behavior had been marked by indecision, reluctance and the fear to fail or disappoint. The man looking at her now, however, showed none of them.
A sigh of relief left his lips. “Ride ahead then,” he told her, releasing her reins. “I’ll follow.” Again, his gaze drifted to the darkening sky.
Seeing the deep concern in his eyes, Charlaine directed her mare toward home, noting the way the animal tossed her head, agitation in the way she moved. “It’s all right, girl,” Charlaine mumbled, gently patting her neck. “We’ll be home soon.”
A low roll of thunder crashed in the distance and Charlaine’s mare reared up with a frightened shriek.
Thrown off guard, Charlaine lost her grip and was flung off, hitting the ground hard. Her left hip throbbed, but the pain quickly lessened. Scrambling to her feet, she watched her mare dart off in the direction of home, her legs carrying her as fast as they could.
“Are you all right?” Nathanial called to her from behind.
Turning around, Charlaine saw him fight to keep his own mount under control as the gelding pranced nervously, ears flattened upon its head. “Yes,” she called, then slowly approached the agitated animal, offering soft words of comfort.
Throwing his head up and down, the gelding eyed her warily, but then slowly began to calm, allowing her to grasp his reins. He rubbed his large head against her shoulders as she stroked his neck.
“Are you hurt?” Nathanial asked from atop the animal. “Can you ride?” He held out his hand to her.
Charlaine grasped it, and he pulled her up in front of him. One arm came around her, his hand settling on her belly, holding her tightly against him. The other held the reins as he urged his gelding homeward, a direction the animal approved of most ardently.
Within moments, they were thundering across the meadow sloping down toward Markham Hall. The rain fell in earnest now, and Charlaine could feel the fabric of her thin summer dress sticking to her skin as the rain ran in streams down her body. Nathanial’s body, however, kept her warm as the chilling wind brushed over her skin. His arm remained around her, holding her to him, and Charlaine smiled at the sense of security that came over her despite the approaching storm.
“We’re almost there,” Nathanial mumbled in her ear, and she wondered if he was even speaking to her or rather reassuring himself. Still, his movements remained steady, his mind clear as he guided the gelding through a cluster of trees and around to the stables near the back of the house where Charlaine’s mare stood waiting, prancing nervously in front of the closed door. The animal tossed its head up and down, eager to get out of the wind and rain.
Charlaine knew the feeling for the chill in the air began to raise goosebumps on her skin and send shivers down her back. Oh, a warm bath would be wonderful now!
Nathanial landed in a small puddle as he jumped off his mount and pulled the gelding forward. One hand held on to the reins while the other opened the stable door. Then he led them inside, the dim light and smell of dry hay enveloping them.
Charlaine’s mare needed no extra invitation, but charged ahead into her warm stall. Outside, the wind started to pick up and they could hear the heavy pattering of the rain as it hit the roof. Thunder crashed every now and then, and the horses flattened their ears in fear.
Nathanial tied his gelding’s reins to an iron ring in the wall, then turned to help Charlaine off his mount. His hands reached for her waist, and she let herself slide forward and into his arms.
Shivering from the cold, she was less than nimble, but Nathanial caught her, his hands warm even through the soaked fabric of her thin summer dress. Her own hands came to rest upon his arms, his sleeves as soaked as her dress, as she looked up at him. “Thank you,” she said, meaning every word. “I’m sorry I teased you so. I did not mean to make you worry. You were right. We should have returned sooner.”
A warm smile teased his lips as he looked down at her. “Are my ears deceiving me?” he whispered. “Did the woman who knows how to live life to the fullest just admit to making a mistake?”
Charlaine chuckled, feeling her shivers subside as his warmth reached out to her. “Oh, don’t act so surprised. I’m far fr
om perfect.”
Nathanial stilled, the gaze locked on hers becoming thoughtful. “You could’ve fooled me,” he mumbled then and, again, Charlaine was not certain if he was speaking to her or simply muttering to himself.
He exhaled a deep breath, and his right hand reached out to touch a dark curl dancing down from her temple. He caught its tip and then slowly wound it around his forefinger, staring at it as though mesmerized.
Feeling the soft tug of his fingers, another shiver danced down Charlaine’s back and, this time, it was not from the cold. She drew in a shuddering breath and her hands tightened upon his arms, her fingers digging into his flesh as though she would fall if she did not hold on.
Instantly, his eyes snapped back to hers.
Charlaine’s breath lodged in her throat.
Something had changed!
Something was…different all of a sudden.
As she stood in his arms, her own feeling weak, she could have sworn that Nathanial had never before looked at her quite like this. Not even the night they had danced at the masquerade. The night she had kissed him. The night he had wanted to kiss her.
Longing and desire lay in his eyes. She could feel it in the way he held her, the soft but insistent pressure of his hand on the small of her back. His breath was ragged somehow, and that muscle in his jaw twitched now and again as his gaze bored into hers.
Something wild and untamed lay in his eyes, and yet, Charlaine felt utterly cherished in that moment. Cared for and protected.
Exhaling slowly, Nathanial tucked her dark curl behind her ear. The tips of his fingers brushed her skin, the shell of her ear as well as the soft spot below. Then his hand slid to the back of her neck, urging her closer as his head slowly bent down to hers.
He’s going to kiss me! A voice in Charlaine’s head screamed, and her knees almost buckled at the thought. Or isn’t he?
Charlaine frowned when Nathanial suddenly hesitated, his lips thinning. The longing in his gaze dimmed and was quickly superseded by something else. Something rational. Something—
