How to Turn a Frog into a Prince

by Wolf, Bree

  Instantly, Nathanial released her and stepped back, putting distance between them.

  Charlaine felt her heart sink at the sudden disappointment that surged through her. Had she wanted to kiss him this badly? She wondered, barely taking note of the two boys.

  “’Tis quite a downpour,” Daniel remarked laughing. “My shirt is almost soaked through.”

  Henry joined in before his gaze moved to them. “Ya look no better,” he observed. “Go on inside. We’ll see to the horses.”

  “Thank you,” Nathanial told them as they hastened forward to tend to the shivering animals. Then he offered Charlaine his arm. His eyes, however, never quite met hers. “We need to run,” he told her, glancing out at the rain.

  Charlaine chuckled despite the disappointment that still clung to her heart. “Why? We’re soaked through as it is. Can it get any worse?”

  His gaze swept over her gown, clinging to her skin, before it snapped up, returning to the downpour a few steps in front of them. “On three,” he said, his arm tightening on hers. “One, two, three.”

  Then they dashed across the yard and up to the side entrance. Donahue, Markham Hall’s one-armed butler, stood there, booming laughter spilling from his mouth as he held the door open to allow them inside. “You look like drowned rats!” he observed, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

  Charlaine grinned at him. “It’s nice to see you as well.”

  Mumbling a few rather unintelligible words, Nathanial hastened away, no longer concerned with her now that he knew her to be safe. Indeed, it seemed what had happened in the stables—or what had almost happened—had shaken him even more than her.

  Donahue frowned. “Who got his goat?”

  Charlaine sighed, then smiled at Donahue and headed to her own chamber. She truly ought to have wrung out her skirts for they were dripping all over the floors. Still, her thoughts lingered elsewhere.

  Something had indeed changed between Nathanial and her.

  The only question was: for better or for worse?

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  How to Kiss

  Nathanial knew he was a coward.

  Still, the moment in the stables had changed everything for him. Before, Charlaine had been his friend, his confidante. He had been able to speak to her without thinking, without choosing his words, without worrying how they would be perceived. Their relationship had been clear, reassuring and simple.

  But then a single moment had ruined everything.

  He had ruined everything.

  What on earth had come over him? Nathanial wondered as he walked rather aimlessly through the grove near the lake. Had he truly been about to kiss her?

  Stopping, he closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. He had, hadn’t he? As much as he wanted to deny it, Nathanial knew that it was the truth.

  Riding home in the rain with her in his arms, a part of Nathanial had been disappointed when they had finally reached their destination. It had been the strangest thought but, in that moment, he had simply wanted to hold her a little longer. And then she had looked at him with those big, brown eyes of hers. Those eyes that so often seemed to see right to his core. In that moment, though, Nathanial had suddenly felt tense at the thought that Charlaine could see into his heart.

  For if she could, she would know that…that…

  Gritting his teeth, Nathanial felt a frustrated growl rise from his throat.

  Without thought, his right hand balled into a fist and was flying toward the nearest tree trunk a second later. Nathanial barely managed to regain control before it connected with the sturdy, old oak, his fingers grateful, for his careless action would surely have cost him a few broken bones.

  “I need something to do,” he gritted out on a huffed breath as he stalked back toward the lake.

  For the past few days, he had all but avoided Charlaine, riding out early in the morning, only returning when he knew she would be spending time with the children. It seemed Daphne and Susan had not given up on their plan of catching a frog or two. Indeed, they had used their second day of imprisonment—as the girls had called it—to interrogate Donahue and hatch a new plan.

  Two days ago, they had dug holes near the lake, wide and deep enough to fit a large bucket, hoping a frog would find its way in there. It had been hard work, and Nathanial had seen their little faces grow a dark shade of red as they had labored over their task while he had watched from afar, not daring to venture closer.

  Indeed, he was a coward. He could not even say what exactly it was that he feared. Was it that Charlaine no longer saw him as a friend? That he had crossed a line; something she could not forgive? Or that she now knew what lingered in his heart even though he himself did not dare give it a name?

  As he stopped beside one of the buckets the girls had dug into the ground, Nathanial paused, for a moment too stunned to form a coherent thought as he stared down at the small green frog trapped at the bottom.

  Then a wide smile spread over his face. “It worked!” he mumbled, feeling his heart starting to beat with excitement. In his mind’s eye, he saw the girls’ faces light up, and he knew he needed to tell them without delay. After all the hard work they had put into this project, they deserved to know.

  Now.

  Rushing back to the house, Nathanial called out to one of the stable boys, Henry, and asked for the girls’ whereabouts.

  “They’re in the hay loft,” Henry replied, pointing in the direction of the stables. “With Miss Palmer.”

  Nathanial’s feet pulled to a halt, and he groaned inwardly. Still, he knew he could not avoid her forever. He did not wish to avoid her forever. Somehow, they had to find a way back to the way things had been. Somehow, they had to get back to being friends.

  Nothing more.

  Perhaps today was the day to begin again.

  Surging into the stables, Nathanial called for the girls. A moment later, Daphne’s head peeked down from the hay loft above. “What is it?” she asked, her eyes slightly narrowed. “The kittens are sleeping. You need to be quiet.”

  Nathanial grinned at her. “I thought you’d like to know: there’s a frog in your trap.”

  Daphne’s jaw dropped and, a second later, two other heads appeared beside hers.

  “There is?” Susan exclaimed, her eyes wide in disbelief while Charlaine’s gaze met his with the same amused excitement twinkling in her eyes he would have expected.

  Nathanial breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, there is. Are you coming?”

  Eager squeals echoed down to his ears as the girls jumped up, then began scrambling down the ladder, all regard for the sleeping kittens shoved aside by this new adventure. Charlaine followed on their heels, then slipped her arm through Nathanial’s as she had done a thousand times before. A moment later, they followed the girls outside.

  “You seemed busy the last few days,” Charlaine observed as they hurried to catch up with Daphne and Susan.

  Nathanial swallowed. “I had…something to think about.”

  She nodded. “Did you come to a conclusion?” she inquired, instead of asking what it was that had occupied his thoughts.

  Nathanial stiffened. “I believe so.” Nothing could be further from the truth, though.

  “Which bucket?” Daphne called from up ahead.

  Nathanial pointed to the left side. “The one near the fallen oak.”

  Again, the girls darted off.

  “One or two?” Charlaine asked, looking up at him.

  Nathanial frowned. “Pardon me?”

  “One or two frogs?”

  “Only one, I’m afraid.” He glanced down at her, grateful for the change of topic. “Do you think that’ll be a problem?”

  Charlaine shrugged. “They’ll no doubt argue about who gets to kiss it first.” She chuckled. “Perhaps it’ll be like the sword in the stone. Everyone gets a turn, and only his rightful bride’s kiss will turn the frog into a prince.” She grinned up at him. “I suspect girls from far and wide will be drawn here.”


  Nathanial laughed. “Too bad they’ll all be disappointed.”

  “You cannot know that,” Charlaine objected with a wagging finger. “Perhaps the impossible will happen after all.”

  “The impossible is called that for a reason,” Nathanial remarked, relieved to fall back into their usual banter.

  Up ahead, they spotted the girls sitting on their heels on the ground, looking down at something with great interest. “He’s so small,” Daphne observed. Then she looked at Susan. “I thought he’d be bigger.”

  “The frog is small,” Susan replied rationally. “The prince will be…” She frowned, then looked up as Charlaine and Nathanial joined them. “How tall will the prince be?”

  Charlaine shrugged and knelt down. “I don’t know. I suppose it depends on whose perfect match he’ll be.”

  Nathanial fought to suppress a grin, trying to remember his own childhood days when nothing at all had seemed impossible. Perhaps that in itself was magic, the belief that anything could be achieved, conquered or won.

  That nothing was impossible.

  The thought was inspiring.

  “Careful when you pick him up,” Charlaine cautioned as Daphne reached her little hands into the bucket. “You don’t want to hurt him.”

  Daphne squealed when her fingers touched the frog. “Ugh! He’s so cold and slimy!” She looked up at Susan. “Do you want to kiss him first?”

  Susan frowned, reluctance marking her little face. “I don’t know how. Do you?”

  Daphne shook her head. “Charlaine, do you know how to kiss?” She sat up. “How about you kiss him first?”

  Charlaine grinned. “But what if he turns into a prince when I kiss him?” she asked, looking from one girl to the other. “Will I be his bride then?”

  Quite obviously, that thought had not occurred to either one of the girls for their expressions became contemplative. “I suppose we need to think about this,” Daphne declared before her gaze swept the rim of the bucket. “I think we should dig it out and take him back with us.”

  Susan nodded her approval and, a moment later, the two girls were digging out the loose dirt around the bucket with their hands, careful not to shake it too much in the process. Their gazes drifted back to the small, green animal within again and again, curiosity mixing with a hint of apprehension. “I wonder who ever got the idea of kissing a frog,” Daphne remarked, frowning. “I’d certainly not mind kissing a prince, but a frog?”

  Again, Susan agreed.

  Nathanial watched as Charlaine rose to her feet, laughing. Then her sparkling, brown eyes met his as though they shared a secret no one else knew about. “Well, I suppose the idea is that you need to have faith, that you need to prove your devotion before receiving something in return.” She sighed, watching the girls slowly lift the bucket out of the hole. “Life sometimes leads us down a difficult path, but we must never lose faith that eventually all will be well again.”

  Nathanial knew that Charlaine spoke from personal experience. He knew that her path had been a most trying one, and he also knew that she had shown true strength in her convictions to emerge from this dark time with her spirits intact.

  Daphne and Susan had both known hard times when they had been very young. Still, here and now, out in the country, away from all that had ever darkened their world, they knew only joy and peace.

  Nathanial was glad for it.

  With the bucket held between them, Daphne and Susan began their way back toward the house with Charlaine and Nathanial walking behind. “We still don’t know how to kiss,” Susan remarked with a sideways glance at Daphne.

  Daphne shrugged. “I suppose it’s no different than kissing your mother. You purse your lips and then…” She smacked them loudly.

  Susan frowned, clearly not convinced. “But on the lips? I saw Pierce and Caroline kiss like that.”

  Nathanial fought to contain a laugh as Daphne turned around to look at them. “Do we have to kiss the frog on the lips?” She paused. “Does it even have lips?”

  Charlaine chuckled, and Nathanial held his breath to keep silent. His head felt like it would explode. “That, I cannot say,” she replied after a deep breath. “I’ve never quite looked at a frog with such diligence. But I do suppose it has lips.” She grinned. “Green ones.”

  The girls’ noses scrunched up in a show of disgust. “I’m not sure if I still want to kiss it,” Susan stated with a doubtful look down into the bucket. Nathanial noted how she had suddenly switched from referring to the frog as he to it.

  “It would still be good practice in case we ever meet a prince,” Daphne said reasonably before her gaze moved from Charlaine to Nathanial and back.

  For a reason Nathanial could not name, he felt a slight shiver dance down his back.

  “Will you show us how to kiss?” the girl asked.

  Susan nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes, please!”

  Charlaine smiled. “But then you have to promise you will at least test your theory?”

  “What theory?” the girls frowned.

  “The theory that a kiss will transform the frog into a prince,” Charlaine elaborated as she leaned down, her eyes level with theirs. “You’ll have to kiss him. Both of you.” She looked back and forth between the two of them, waiting for their answer.

  “We’ll do it!” Daphne suddenly exclaimed like a warrior, declaring he was ready to charge into battle. Susan, on the other hand, looked doubtful. Still, she nodded in agreement.

  Nathanial stepped up to Charlaine as she straightened, inhaling what seemed like a fortifying breath. “Are you truly going to kiss that frog?” he asked quietly. Never for a moment had he thought the girls would truly see their plan through to the end. He had thought their dream would pop like a bubble the moment they caught a frog.

  Green and slimy, as Daphne had said.

  Turning to look at him, Charlaine smiled. “Of course not.”

  Nathanial frowned. “Then how—?”

  In the next moment, she stood before him, her hands cupping his face before she pressed her lips to his. By all accounts, it was a chaste kiss and lasted no more than a second or two. However, for Nathanial, it set his world on fire.

  Instantly, he felt reminded of the moment they had shared in the stables after the rain. The closeness of her body, the warmth of her skin, the soft brush of her breath. Longing surged through him, quickly replacing his initial shock, and he tensed, balling his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her, to keep from deepening the kiss, to keep from turning this into something it was not.

  After all, Charlaine was only kissing him to accommodate the girls’ curiosity. Two girls, who at this very moment were watching them most intently.

  “There,” Charlaine said as she pulled back, her hands dropping from his face as she smiled at him as though they were confidantes in a secret game. “This is how you kiss. It’s simple.”

  Nathanial swallowed, completely overwhelmed by what had just happened. Indeed, for him, there had been nothing simple about this kiss. In fact, he had no doubt that in the weeks ahead it would prove to be a problem because, to his great regret, Nathanial had to admit that this one simple kiss only made him want another.

  “Well, he didn’t turn into a prince,” Daphne observed as she looked at him as though she had every right to blame him for failing to live up to her expectations.

  Susan giggled. “At least, he didn’t turn into a frog.”

  Then the girls turned back toward the house and walked ahead, arguing about who had to kiss the frog first and whether or not the creature had lips which ought or ought not to be kissed.

  Beside him, Charlaine chuckled. “Aren’t they adorable?” she asked, her gaze soft as she watched them proceed up the small slope.

  Nathanial didn’t know what to say. When she made to follow, his hand caught her arm, pulling her back. “Why did you kiss me?” he asked without thought, yet unable to stop himself.

  Her brown eyes looked up into his and, once
again, Nathanial felt as though she knew exactly what lived in his heart.

  He gritted his teeth. “Could you not have kissed the blasted frog?”

  One corner of her mouth curled up. “I suppose I could have,” she replied before a teasing note came to her voice, “but he’s so green and slimy.” Then her gaze sobered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I’ll not do it again. I know I promised you before.” Contrition came to her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Can you forgive me?”

  Staring at her, Nathanial nodded.

  A relieved smile came to Charlaine’s face. “Thank you.” Then she tugged on his arm. “Come. It’ll be time for supper soon.” And with that, she turned and hurried after the girls.

  For a long moment, Nathanial remained where he was, staring after her, her words echoing in his mind. I’ll not do it again. Indeed, here was a promise he could not help but detest. What on earth was he to do now? How could he remain her friend when…?

  Brutal honesty, she had promised him and asked for the same in return. Nathanial had been doubtful at first, but then he had found that he could trust her after all. That she was a genuinely good person, that she said what was on her mind, that she did not lie, that she had no hidden agenda.

  Indeed, brutal honesty would require him to tell her how he felt when he looked at her now. But what would happen then?

  The thought was more terrifying than any he’d ever known. He could not lose her. He simply could not!

  But then he would have to lie.

  Hanging his head, Nathanial walked up the small slope toward the house.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Friends and Only Friends

  After breakfast the next morning, Charlaine felt an almost desperate need to be alone. Her thoughts ran rampant, her heart picking up its pace whenever her mind drifted back to the kiss she had stolen without thought. It had been an impulse, a sudden desire, and she had acted upon it without considering Nathanial’s position in this.