How to Turn a Frog into a Prince

by Wolf, Bree

  “Brutal honesty?” Nathanial asked, frowning as his gaze drifted to her proffered hand.

  Charlaine nodded. “To speak the truth even when it hurts.”

  Again, he regarded her. “Before I can agree, I need to know why you want this so…”

  “Desperately?”

  Nathanial nodded.

  “Because I’m alone,” Charlaine blurted out, feeling a stab of pain slice through her heart, “and I’m afraid of being alone, of having no one to turn to.” She tried hard to blink back the tears that threatened, wondering if Nathanial would interpret them as another form of manipulation. “I’ve always had a big family, aunts and uncles and cousins. Too many to count. I’ve never been alone in my life, and then…I suddenly was.” She looked around at the dark hedges, but instead, saw the many frowns directed at her wherever she went. “I want a friend to stand at my side,” she said as she blinked and her gaze returned to his, “and I thought you could be that friend.”

  Sympathy lingered on Nathanial’s face as he watched her. There was warmth there and kindness. She could see that his heart understood her, felt for her. He truly was the man she had thought him to be. And then he stepped toward her and grasped her hand, his blue eyes looking down into hers as they never had before. “I’ll be your friend,” he whispered solemnly. “I’ll stand by your side. I promise.”

  The warmth of his hand wrapped around hers, and Charlaine marveled at what it had been that had finally convinced him to place his trust in her. To risk his heart anew and accept her offer of friendship. Perhaps one day he would tell her.

  Smiling up at him, Charlaine wiped her tears away. “You’d better be a good one after all you put me through.”

  Again, Nathanial laughed and, this time, Charlaine joined in. Her hand squeezed his as she looked up at him, tears still snaking down her cheeks. “Here,” Nathanial said, fishing a handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her.

  Charlaine dabbed it at her eyes, then wiped the wetness off her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  “Do you,” Nathanial began hesitantly, the unfamiliarity of speaking to her still an obstacle to be overcome, “truly feel alone, Miss Palmer? I thought…”

  “Pierce is a dear friend and I love him with all my heart,” she sighed, “but he belongs with Caroline. Miss Hawkins. Is that not how you feel about your brother and his wife?”

  Understanding dawned in Nathanial’s eyes and he nodded. “Do they intend to marry?”

  Charlaine smiled. “I do believe so. After all, they’re in love.”

  “Then why—?”

  “Because life is not always simple, is it, Nathanial? And will you please call me Charlaine? Or Charlie if you prefer? After all, we’re friends now, are we not?”

  Nathanial nodded. “I suppose we are.”

  “It still feels strange.”

  “It does.”

  Charlaine cocked her head. “Will you teach me how to dance?”

  Nathanial’s jaw dropped. “Pardon me?”

  “Will you teach me how to dance?” Charlaine repeated, well aware that he had not asked because he had not heard her.

  “You know not how to dance?” Nathanial asked, looking rather shocked. “Why, then, would you attend balls? What if someone were to—?” He broke off.

  “No one ever has,” Charlaine pointed out, having decided long ago not to take the ton’s rejection as a personal affront, but rather see it as lack of compassion on their part. “And no one ever will. Still, it looks like fun. I’d love to know the steps.”

  “Why did you not ask Lord Markham?”

  Charlaine sighed. “He has other things on his mind right now, even aside from Caroline.” She looked around the small area shrouded in shadows. “So, will you teach me?”

  His eyes widened. “Now? Here?”

  “Why not?”

  Inhaling a slow breath, Nathanial looked about himself as though searching for a reason to refuse her. Charlaine, however, suspected that he merely needed a moment to adjust to her request and all it entailed. “I’ve never taught anyone,” he admitted, a bit of a sheepish look coming to his face. “I’m not certain I’ll be of much help to you.”

  “I don’t mind,” Charlaine assured him. “I’m hoping to enjoy myself, and what better guarantee is there than to have a friend at one’s side.” She turned her head as a faint melody drifted to her ears. “Do you hear it? The music from the orchestra? How does one dance to this?”

  Nathanial frowned, raking a hand through his hair. “We’d need more than two people for this. There is no way we can—”

  “Simply teach me the steps,” Charlaine interrupted, coming to know the way he kept thinking everything through to the smallest detail. Everything needed to be perfect in his eyes or it was not worth doing. Charlaine wondered why he had ever accepted her as his friend.

  Considering all the flaws she possessed.

  Nathanial came to stand beside her. “Very well. Watch my steps.”

  Thus began a dance lesson under the moon with chuckles and laughter, with wrong turns and misplaced steps, ending in squished toes, a bruised ankle and the promise to meet again the following day.

  Indeed, a friend had been exactly what Charlaine had needed.

  And, no doubt, Nathanial would be the best friend she would ever have.

  Only he did not know it yet.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A Walk in the Park

  “How are your toes?” Miss Palmer asked, a bit of an apologetic grin upon her face as she looked up at him from under her bonnet. “Purple? Blue? Flattened beyond repair?”

  Nathanial could barely suppress a smile as he led her down the path that snaked along the Serpentine. “I assure you there’s no need to worry. I’m perfectly fine.”

  Breathing in the warm, summer-scented air, Miss Palmer briefly gazed at the glistening waters before returning her attention to him. “Are you certain? I must say I never thought to consider dancing such a dangerous undertaking.” Her eyes shifted to the hem of her dress. “Especially when one is wearing shoes.”

  Nathanial frowned. “Especially when one is wearing shoes?” he echoed, uncertain what she was trying to say. “Have you ever known anyone to dance without shoes?”

  A wide grin claimed Miss Palmer’s face. “You sound like Albert.”

  “Albert?”

  “Pierce’s butler. He is such a dear, old man, but rather one to stand on protocol.” Her smile dimmed a little, but affection still rang loud and clear in her voice.

  Nathanial remembered the thin, eyebrow-less man who had opened the door for him earlier in the day when he had arrived to pick up Miss Palmer for a stroll through Hyde Park. The man had seemed all but expressionless, his eyes pale and his posture ramrod straight. However, the moment Miss Palmer had appeared, something had changed.

  There had been warmth in his gaze then, whispering of a deep affection for the unusual, young woman who had recently joined their household. Clearly, she had fought her way through the old man’s granite shell and claimed a place in his heart. Perhaps with the same relentless persistence with which she had pursued him, Nathanial, and made him her friend.

  In an odd way, it was a rather childish notion, but Nathanial could not deny that the past sennight had been one of the most peaceful since his arrival in London.

  In truth, ever since Abigail had broken his heart.

  “When was the last time you walked without shoes?”

  Jarred from his thoughts, Nathanial frowned at her. “Pardon me? Without shoes?”

  Miss Palmer nodded. “Yes, you know, barefoot.”

  He shook his head. “I cannot say that…”

  “You poor man!” Miss Palmer exclaimed, looking honestly shocked. “Only think of all you’ve been missing.” She glanced around them, then frowned. “There are too many people here.”

  Indeed, countless couples promenaded up and down the path as families with children picnicked on the lawns. “Too many people for what?”r />
  “To take off our shoes, of course.”

  Nathanial stopped and looked at her. “You want to take of your shoes? Here? Now?” An odd echo danced through his head, reminding him of her request to teach her how to dance only a few days past. Then, he had been shocked as well.

  “I’d love to,” she told him honestly, eagerness on her face. “The sun is shining, a mild breeze is stirring the trees, the grass looks so soft and I bet the water is nice and cool.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she turned to look at him. “Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t want to take off your shoes?”

  Nathanial didn’t know how to answer that.

  “I know it’s far outside of what is considered appropriate,” Miss Palmer admitted. “However, if no one were here to judge you, would you want to?”

  “I don’t know.” Nathanial shrugged. “I never considered it.”

  “Then consider it now,” Miss Palmer all but ordered him, her brown eyes watchful as they looked at him.

  “What is the point? Why consider a scenario that will never be?”

  A rather indulgent smile came to her face. “To know your heart,” she told him and, to his utter shock, her right hand settled upon his chest as though checking to see if his was still beating. “To be prepared to seize the moment should an opportunity present itself.”

  Nathanial inhaled a slow breath, feeling her hand rise and fall as it rested upon his chest. “And you wish to walk without shoes?”

  A warm chuckle left her lips. “My dear Nathanial, I walk without shoes every opportunity I get.”

  “You do?”

  “I do.” She grinned at him. “Again, you look like Albert. Thoroughly scandalized.” She frowned. “I never understood. What is so utterly inappropriate about not wearing shoes? It’s not as though I expressed the desire to swim naked in the Serpentine.” She paused, and her teeth sank into her lower lip. “Although…”

  Nathanial’s eyes fell open. “Miss Palmer, you cannot be serious!”

  “Of course, I’m not,” she laughed, playfully slapping his arm. “I’m not a fool! However, that does not mean I wouldn’t want to!” She fixed him with a pointed stare. “And would you please call me Charlaine?” Her brows rose in challenge.

  “It would be inappropriate,” Nathanial pointed out, well aware that she had addressed him by his first name from the start and he had never once objected. Why on earth had he not?

  “Do you consider it inappropriate?” she demanded, a hint of impatience coming to her eyes. “After all, we’re friends, are we not?”

  Looking into her eyes, Nathanial nodded. “Yes, we’re friends and…no, I would not consider it inappropriate.” Was this the truth? The words had escaped his mouth without thought.

  A slow smile spread across her face. “Well, then?”

  Knowing when a battle was lost, Nathanial hung his head. Still, the hint of a smile teased his lips. “Very well, Miss P—” He caught himself. “Charlaine.” Her name left his tongue slowly, syllable for syllable.

  She rewarded his efforts with a proud smile. “Now, about the shoes?”

  Nathanial chuckled. “You’re relentless.”

  “I know what I want,” Charlaine told him with a pointed look. “Do you?”

  Nathanial sighed. “I’m not certain.”

  “Well, that sounds like no.” She slipped her arm back through his and they continued down the path. “Perhaps you should work on that. Will you come to Pierce and Caroline’s engagement celebration tomorrow?”

  “I’ve been invited.”

  Charlaine chuckled. “That’s not an answer.”

  Stopping, Nathanial turned to her. “Do you want me to come?” A nervous shiver teased his spine as her dark eyes looked up into his, and Nathanial knew that in no more than a short week’s time, she had made him care for her. No wonder she had managed to break Albert as well. It seemed no one stood a chance against her.

  Except for the ton at large.

  But that was their loss.

  “Yes,” she said, a deep smile upon her face. “I want you to come. Of course, I do.”

  Something warm settled upon Nathanial’s chest. “Then I’ll attend.”

  However odd she had gone about it, Nathanial was glad that Charlaine had become his friend. The notion was still strange—after all, men and women could not simply be friends, could they? Still, it felt good to be able to speak to another, to have his company cherished, to know that his presence or absence was noted. Perhaps it was simply that Charlaine showed her affection without restraint, without thought for what was appropriate, without fear to be disappointed. She saw the good in the world, the good in people, and she refused to live anything but a happy life.

  Nathanial felt awed whenever he looked at her.

  And more grateful than he could say.

  “And will you dance with me?” The grin upon her face told him that she did not truly expect him to agree. “Or are you afraid you’ll get hurt? I could leave off my shoes. It might hurt less.”

  Nathanial chuckled. “It’ll be an engagement celebration, not a ball.”

  “True,” Charlaine replied, and Nathanial could not help but feel that she wanted to add something to that simple statement. Something that started with However…

  She did not though.

  “Do you have any plans for the summer?”

  Nathanial sighed. “Not yet.” In fact, over the past week, he had enjoyed not thinking ahead. It had been a new experience for him; one that had proved beneficial to his mood. After all, thinking ahead only meant planning his return to Boston. He could not very well stay in England indefinitely. He had a company to think of.

  His father’s legacy.

  Now that Zach had become the Earl of Pembroke, his brother was expected to remain in England and see to the duties that went hand in hand with that title. He would not be returning to America.

  Not permanently.

  Nathanial sighed at the thought that they would, from now on, be separated by an ocean, both on different continents. Once, they had lived their lives together, side by side, and now? Now, in all likelihood, years would pass between occasional visits. Once Zach and Becca became parents, the distance would only increase.

  Nathanial was certain of it.

  “You look sad,” Charlaine observed. “Is it your brother?”

  How on earth had she come to know him so well in no more than a week’s time? “Life will no longer be the same.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  Nathanial shrugged. “For him, I suppose it’s good. He’s happy.”

  “And you?”

  Again, he shrugged. “I don’t know where to go from here.”

  Charlaine smiled up at him. “Then don’t make any decisions until you do. Promise me.”

  Nathanial nodded. “And what about you? Will you remain in England for good?”

  “There’s no place I’d rather be,” she told him, conviction in her voice. Still, a deep sadness rested in her eyes that made Nathanial wonder what had happened to her. By now, he had pieced a few things together from what she had told him, but everything else remained a mere suspicion, far from certainty. She had lost her family, but how? And when? And how had she found her way to Lord Markham? Quite obviously, they were close and shared some kind of history. Nathanial could not deny that he…cared to know.

  After all, Charlaine was his friend and he wanted her to be happy. Was that not what friends wished for one another?

  Chapter Eighteen

  An Engagement Celebration

  The house was crawling with people, laughing and chatting and offering their congratulations to the betrothed couple. Caroline and Pierce stood together by the entrance hall, receiving their guests, now and then exchanging a look that whispered of their deep bond.

  Charlaine watched them from behind a pillar, completely entranced by the way they communicated with barely a word. It reminded her of Amancia and Peter.

  Every once in a whil
e, Pierce would roll his eyes, forcing Caroline to fight to suppress a laugh. His hand would often move to touch her arm before he would lean in to whisper something in her ear.

  Judging from the slight blush that would come to Caroline’s cheeks, Charlaine assumed it was something deeply shocking…but utterly tempting.

  Charlaine sighed. “They look so very happy,” she mumbled to no one in particular. In fact, she was hiding out behind a pillar to avoid being seen, to steal a moment of reprieve from the ton’s judgmental gazes.

  Today was a happy day, and Charlaine did not wish for anything to spoil the joy she saw in the newly betrothed couple’s eyes. Least of all her.

  The moment Lord Ashhaven, Pierce’s childhood friend, stepped across the threshold, the rather indulgent look Pierce seemed to have reserved for the majority of his guests changed. All pretense vanished, and Pierce met the other man with honest delight.

  Lord Ashhaven’s dark gaze warmed as well, offsetting the silvery glow of his cropped hair. Although he was about the same age as Pierce, his once dark curls had already changed to a prominent silver. Only here and there did a black strand peek through.

  Unlike Pierce, he had a very reserved air about him, his features schooled to express precisely what he wanted others to see. Still, the moment the two friends embraced each other, Charlaine glimpsed a moment of uncensored emotion upon the other man’s face. Indeed, they were as close as brothers even though they had not seen each other these past few years.

  Not until the night Pierce and Caroline had gotten engaged at the Hawthorne ball. It had been quite a scandal, and London was abuzz with this new piece of gossip.

  As an agent of the Crown, Lord Ashhaven had been the one Pierce had turned to when he had managed to gather enough evidence to prove that Lord Coleridge had, indeed, been the one to kill Daphne’s parents in cold blood. Lord Ashhaven had arrested the man that very night, and Lord Coleridge was currently on trial for murder.

  “Am I right to assume you’ll be leaving England again soon?” Pierce asked his childhood friend, a hint of regret in his voice.