by Bree Wolf
Abigail’s eyes dropped from his. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, a deep sigh leaving her lips before she met his gaze again. “I know it was I who caused you that pain. It was my fault, and I wish it had never happened.”
Nathanial’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. Then, however, he stilled. Did he agree? If Abigail had not broken their engagement, he might never have met Charlaine. For even if they had still met that day of his brother’s wedding celebration, the reason why she had approached him would have been nonexistent. After all, he himself would have been married to Abigail by then.
If all had gone according to plan.
But it had not.
And Nathanial could not help but think that he was glad for it.
“I would like to be your friend again,” Abigail told him, her blue eyes looking up into his. “This past fortnight has been wonderful. It felt like us again. The way we used to be, did it not?” Her hands reached for his. “We could have that again.”
Again, Nathanial nodded before he once more stopped, wondering if what she said was true.
Indeed, he had enjoyed her company this past fortnight. She had felt like a friend, but he had also come to realize that he had never truly known her. She was not the woman he remembered. She was different, freer in the way she expressed herself, without restraint, but with utter honesty. It was something Nathanial had experienced himself.
“I would like for us to be friends,” he told her honestly, returning her smile. “However, I do not believe we should strive to be who we were. Instead, we should be who we are now. We should begin anew and see where life takes us.”
Abigail beamed up at him. “I’d like that very much.”
“I would as well,” Nathanial replied as his mind strayed to Charlaine’s letter. “However, there is someone I need to see.” He smiled. “Someone I want to see.”
Chapter Forty-One
In a Fairy Tale
The rain had finally let up and so Charlaine and Emma took the girls outside for a stroll across the meadows to the west of Markham Hall. The wind tugged on their skirts, and they pulled their coats tighter around themselves.
“There are no more flowers to pick,” Susan complained as they strode onward, her brown eyes sorrowful as she looked at the fading green of the world around her. Leaves were starting to change color, painting the world in orange, red and brown; warm colors to battle the icy wind blowing in from the north.
“Autumn is here,” Emma explained, hugging her little daughter to her side. “Flowers will return in the spring. Now, you can collect leaves. See if you can find one in a dark red. Those are truly beautiful.”
Susan darted off, her little legs carrying her through the tall grass and toward a cluster of trees as she waved to Daphne up ahead.
“You look sad,” Emma observed with a sideways glance at Charlaine, her hushed voice almost swallowed by the wind. “Have you not yet received a reply?”
Charlaine sighed, offering a vague imitation of a smile. “I have not.”
“Are you worried he will not write back?” Emma asked as she pulled to a stop, her gentle, blue eyes slightly narrowed. “Was he not the one to write to you first?”
Turning toward the other woman, Charlaine nodded. “He was, but…” She sighed, pinching her eyes shut. “I might have been a bit direct in my letter.” She cracked one eye open to look at Emma. “I’m afraid he might have misunderstood me.” Her hands flew up in uncertainty. “Yes, I was angry with him, but…”
“You miss him,” Emma offered with a knowing smile.
Charlaine nodded. “I do.” Her gaze traveled over the wind-swept meadow. “It is so strange not seeing him here at Markham Hall. To me, it feels as though he’s always been here. I turn a corner and I expect to see him. It feels as though he should be here because…” She shrugged, staring at Emma, wishing her friend would finish the thought for her. “Because he should be here.”
Emma smiled. “You love him.”
Charlaine hung her head, feeling guilty for an emotion that ought to bring her joy. “I cannot help it. I know I promised him friendship, but…” Her voice trailed off, not knowing what to say. Was there a way to force heart and mind to walk hand in hand?
Charlaine doubted it very much.
“But he loves you, as well,” Daphne stated from behind her, her little voice carried over on the wind.
Surprised, Charlaine spun around, her cheeks heating in a most foreign way. “I thought you were picking leaves with Susan.”
“I was,” Daphne replied, walking over. “Now, I’m not.” Her wide, brown eyes held Charlaine’s with a directness that made her want to drop her gaze. “Did you hear what I said?”
Charlaine swallowed. “Yes.” She looked up and saw Susan rushing toward them, her arms full of leaves.
“So?” Daphne pressed, frowning at Susan when the girl brushed her shoulder on her way to her mother, proudly presenting her collection.
“So what?” Charlaine asked, wishing they could drop the topic. She would not even have addressed the issue had she known Daphne to be within earshot.
“Are you not happy that he loves you?” Daphne asked with a frown. “You look displeased. I thought you loved him as well.” She glanced at Susan. “Sometimes adults don’t make any sense.”
Susan nodded knowingly.
Charlaine huffed out a breath. “Well, it’s complicated. Even if he—” She paused, then frowned at Daphne. “How would you know how he feels about me?” Indeed, it seemed she had not been listening after all. Had Daphne truly said Nathanial loved her as well?
Daphne looked at her in such an indulgent way that Charlaine suddenly felt as though their roles were reversed and she was the little girl with little knowledge of the world. “It’s rather obvious,” Daphne stated in that grown-up tone she sometimes employed. “He looks at you the same way Father looks at Caroline.” Then she glanced at Emma before her gaze moved to Susan and she snickered. “Or the way your mother looked at Ash before he left.”
“What?” Charlaine exclaimed, completely taken off guard. Her gaze snapped to Emma, who had gone rather pale, her eyes shockingly wide and her mouth opening and closing as though she wished to object but could not find the words to do so. “She did?” Charlaine asked, curious what the girl had observed.
Daphne nodded. “Only when he wasn’t looking.”
Charlaine could barely suppress a smile at Emma’s mortified face, momentarily relieved that the focus had moved off her. Still, the way Emma reacted made her wonder if there might not be truth in Daphne’s observation. Did that also mean she was right about Nathanial?
“I didn’t know you kept such a close eye on us,” Charlaine laughed, not knowing what else to say. She was not about to make more specific inquiries toward a six-year-old girl.
Daphne shrugged, then said, “I think you should marry him.”
Charlaine’s jaw dropped. “Pardon me?”
“I think he is your prince,” Daphne elaborated. “You kissed him and now you’re in love. It’s like in the fairy tale.”
“How would you know I…we…?” Charlaine stammered, casting a wary glance at Emma, who still seemed utterly shaken.
“I overheard you talking to Caroline.”
Charlaine frowned at her. “You were eavesdropping?”
A wide grin came to Daphne’s face, the look in her wide, brown eyes stating clearly that she was not sorry in the least and would do so again should the situation call for it.
Unable not to, Charlaine laughed. Then turned to Emma. “Clearly, Daphne needs to learn some manners, wouldn’t you agree?”
Emma nodded, her cheeks now blazing red. “Indeed, I would.” Her voice, however, was barely more than a whisper that Charlaine could not help but wonder if her friend had, indeed, taken a liking to the taciturn lord.
“There he is!” Daphne called, her little finger pointing past Charlaine’s shoulder.
“Who?” Charlaine asked, making to turn in the dir
ection Daphne indicated. “Lord Ashh—?” Her voice died in her throat as her eyes fell on Nathanial heading up the small slope toward them. The wind had tousled his hair, and his coat billowed behind him. He moved in long strides, his gaze sweeping over them before it settled on hers.
Charlaine thought her heart would beat out of her chest. Indeed, never had she reacted to a friend’s visit quite like this. It would seem it was safe to say that she loved him. Not that she had not known so before but, looking at him now, Charlaine was overwhelmed by the urge to throw herself into his arms.
An impulse Daphne quite obviously saw no reason not to react upon for the girl raced down the slope toward him, her arms stretched wide.
Nathanial’s face split into a wide smile and he caught her swiftly, spinning her around as they laughed together.
A moment later, Susan demanded her turn.
Charlaine sighed, watching them. “Why can’t he simply be my friend?”
“Because life is never easy,” Emma said gloomily as she came to stand beside Charlaine, her cheeks still shining in a deeper shade than usual. Then she looked at Charlaine and cast her a warm smile. “I’ll take the girls inside.” She glanced at Nathanial. “You speak to him.”
Charlaine nodded as Emma strode away, wishing she knew what she ought to say. I love you, came to mind. But that was something Nathanial would not want to hear.
Chapter Forty-Two
Return to Markham Hall
“Welcome back, Mr. Caswell,” Miss Glass greeted Nathanial as Daphne and Susan twirled around him, their little mouths not standing still as they told him about their disappointment that the frog they had caught had not changed into a prince after all.
Despite all their efforts.
Then his gaze moved back to Charlaine as she stood up on the slope, her dark curls dancing on the wind, and he barely heard Miss Glass call to the children. His attention was locked on the woman he had longed to see for a month, and now, here she stood, only a few paces away.
Nathanial felt his heart skip a beat as though tripping over its own steps.
As Miss Glass ushered the girls back toward the house, their little voices receding as they walked, Nathanial stepped toward Charlaine, his legs carrying him up the small slope.
His gaze swept over her as he approached, noting the same strength and vivaciousness in her dark eyes he knew well. Still, there was something different about her. Something tense in the way her chest rose and fell, her breathing slightly faster than he would have expected. She seemed vulnerable somehow for her gaze would move from his every so often as though wishing to hide something she did not want him to know.
Indeed, it would seem the day at the lake had changed how she saw him. Although she did not appear angry at all, the simple ease that had always been between them had grown into something far more complicated. Unspoken words hung between them, and Nathanial wondered if they would ever make it back to the friendship that had all but given him back his life.
“I see you’ve returned,” Charlaine greeted him with a bit of a hesitant smile as he came to stand in front of her.
Nathanial nodded. “I have.” His gaze swept over her features, warmth and longing filling his chest at the mere sight of her as though years had passed since he had last been able to do so. “Will you yell at me then?”
A small smile teased her lips. “I do not believe it necessary for you appear to have learned your lesson. Or am I wrong?”
“You’re not.” In truth, Nathanial could not say what lesson he had learned. All he knew was that he would never again dare risk what they had. He needed her as much as his next breath. He needed those dark eyes looking into his own. He needed that light laughter of hers tickling his ears. He needed her warmth and kindness, her frankness as well as her courage.
Indeed, the world was a darker place without her.
As though to agree with him, the clouds overhead parted in that moment, allowing a ray of sunshine to pass through, its soft light glittering in Charlaine’s raven-black hair.
She was radiant, and Nathanial felt the sudden urge to reach for her, to hold her in his arms, to kiss her as he had before.
That day at the lake.
“Is something wrong?” Charlaine asked, her dark eyes searching his as she stepped closer. “You look…out of sorts.”
A sarcastic chuckle rumbled in his throat. “I admit our time apart was most trying for me. I missed you terribly.” There! He had said it! He had spoken the truth. If only he dared be more explicit.
For a long moment, Charlaine looked at him before her lips suddenly pressed together and she blinked her eyes rapidly as though trying to fight off tears. “I missed you as well,” she whispered hesitantly, but then moved closer, her arms snaking around his neck as her head came to rest upon his shoulder.
Nathanial stilled, overwhelmed to feel her lean into him. He was even more surprised when she did not pull away, but remained where she was, one hand coming to rest over his own thundering heart while the other slipped down the side of his neck, the tips of her fingers no more than a feathery touch upon his skin.
His chin came to rest on the top of her head as though they had been made for each other, and he could feel her breathe in deeply, her chest rising and falling in tandem with his own. She felt warm and soft as she had that day by the lake.
Nathanial’s arms folded over her, holding her close, as the memory of her lips upon his, vivid and tempting, resurfaced. Oh, dear God, he wanted to kiss her!
Charlaine would not want him to, though, for they were friends and nothing more. Nathanial would simply have to make his peace with it. Cherish what he had, and not long for something unattainable.
Still, the thought of such an imbalance in their relationship gave him pause. Could he be her friend when, in truth, he wished for more than that? Would it not be torture to pretend? Dishonest as well? However, the thought of losing her from his life cut deep and was one Nathanial could not bring himself to contemplate.
Perhaps it would be better like this.
After all, was a friendship not more permanent in nature? Friends were not tied to each other by a contract. They could be lost, that threat looming overhead at all times. Was that why friendships were rarely taken for granted? Why one cherished them more?
With Abigail, everything had gone wrong after they had moved beyond their initial friendship. After Nathanial had proposed, she had felt trapped. Had it simply been because of her father? Because she had felt pressured into a life without choice?
In the end, it did not matter. Charlaine saw him as a friend, and Nathanial knew he would not risk losing what they had. He loved that she spoke without restraint, that she shared all that lived in her heart, that she told him when he was being a fool or when she found him utterly irritating. He also loved that he could do the same and, at the end of the day, they would still laugh together and know that there was another who understood.
That was friendship.
It would be enough.
“Are you well?” Nathanial asked as he forced his arms to loosen their hold on her.
Her head rose and she looked up at him, her face still temptingly close. “I am,” she whispered and her gaze held his in a way that made him wish he was a man who could be reckless, who dared to risk it all, who would throw caution to the wind and act on impulse.
But he was not.
Gritting his teeth, Nathanial took a step back, his hands falling away. “You look…a bit out of sorts as well,” he observed, almost desperate to change the topic.
Charlaine’s gaze narrowed before she lifted a finger, pointing it at him. “That muscle in your jaw is twitching again,” she remarked. “It only ever does that when I tease you or when you’re upset with me or…” Her voice rose, demanding an answer.
Nathanial knew why it was twitching. But he could not share his inner turmoil with her. This was something she could never know. “A lot has happened,” he said instead, then took a deep breath. “Ab
igail is here.”
Her gaze fell from his before her eyes rose again. “Your fiancée?”
Nathanial tensed. “She was my fiancée.”
“She is not anymore?” Her arms crossed over her chest. “Or again?”
Nathanial frowned. “What do you mean?”
Shaking her head, Charlaine straightened. “What brings her here then?”
“She came to apologize for all that happened,” Nathanial told her, still surprised by this curious turn of events. “I never would have expected her to, but I suppose I knew her less than I thought I did.”
“You accepted her apology?”
Nathanial nodded. “I did. Nothing good comes from holding on to past grievances. I know that now.” He smiled at her. “You taught me that.” A deep sigh left his lips. “You taught me something else as well.”
Her features softened, and she stepped closer, slipping her hand through the crook of his arm. “Walk with me.” They proceeded a few steps down the slope before she looked up at him again. “What did I teach you? How to dance?” She grinned. “No, that was you. How to walk barefoot?” A frown creased her forehead. “I’m not certain it should be considered a skill, but—”
“How to be a friend,” Nathanial replied, seeking her gaze. “You stood with me when I needed you even though there was no reason for you to do so. You saw that I needed someone and you helped me because you could.” His hand closed over hers. “You’re a good person, and the world is a better place because of you.”
A slight flush came to her cheeks and her teeth sank into her lower lip as a soft smile tugged on the corners of her mouth.
It was such an innocent reaction. It unwittingly drew Nathanial’s attention back to the day at the lake. God, I wish I could kiss her! He thought yet again.
“Will she return to Boston then?” Charlaine asked into the silence as he kept staring at her in a rather dumbfounded fashion.
