“Why would you care?” Bitterness clung to Nathanial’s words; even he knew that. “I am no one to you.”
Miss Palmer looked at him then in a way no one ever had before. There was something in her gaze that made him squirm, that made him want to run away, afraid she might be able to see to his core…and find him lacking. As Abigail had. “That’s not true.” Her words were soft-spoken, but rang with a vehemence that almost knocked Nathanial off his feet. “We may not know each other well, but you’re not no one to me. I said that I wanted to be your friend, and I meant it.”
Staring down at her, Nathanial was overcome with a strange and altogether unfamiliar emotion: longing. He wanted what she was offering. He wanted her to be his friend. He wanted to trust her. To confide in her. To have someone who cared about him.
Nathanial’s life had become lonely after Zach had left for England two years ago. Then he had lost Abigail and, with her, his place in the world. Everything was different now, looked different, felt different as though he had gone to sleep and woken up in a world not his own.
“How can I trust you?” Nathanial asked, knowing how vulnerable that question alone made him. “You chose to lie when you could have simply spoken the truth.” Deep down, Nathanial knew that his insistence was nothing more than a test. He needed to see if she would be offended by his words, if she would lose patience with him, if she would turn and walk away.
Or would she stand and fight through his stubbornness?
Nathanial’s heart leaped with joy when he saw the corner of her mouth turn into a wicked smile. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you failed to identify yourself as well.” Her brows rose in a teasing challenge. “Why did you not simply give me your name and ask for mine?”
Nathanial shrugged. “It was a masquerade.”
Her smile broadened, and he realized that he had just weakened his own argument. “Precisely.”
“But you knew who I was while I did not know who you were,” he insisted stubbornly.
Miss Palmer crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes narrowing as she regarded him. “And at no point did you have an inkling that it could be me? Am I so forgettable?”
Nathanial did not know how to reply. Had he offended her? Or was she toying with him? “I did not know.”
“But I promised to be your friend, did I not?” Miss Palmer stated. “Did you not expect to see me again?”
Nathanial sighed. “People make promises all the time, but only keep very few. I know what you said at Pembroke Hall, but I admit I did not believe you. And then the days passed and—”
A luminous smile claimed Miss Palmer’s face. “Did you want me to reach out to you?”
Nathanial’s teeth ground together, forbidding him from answering.
“Well, be that as it may, but I did reach out to you.” Again, her brows rose, her brown eyes looking into his. “At the masquerade. I came for you. I told you that my father called me Charlie, did I not?”
Indeed, she had. “But what of your accent?”
“What of yours?” she fired back.
Nathanial ignored her just reasoning. “I would have recognized you in an instant had you—”
“Why should I make all the effort?” Miss Palmer demanded, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “In a friendship, both sides give and take.”
Nathanial frowned. “Are you toying with me?”
Miss Palmer laughed, then took a step toward him, her watchful eyes lingering on his. “Why don’t you ask me what it is you truly wish to know?”
Nathanial tensed. “I did.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Of course, I did.”
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t.”
Nathanial threw up his hands. “Then why don’t you tell me what you think I wish to know?”
A slow smile curled up the corners of his mouth, and Nathanial felt his breath lodge in his throat even before she had spoken a single word. “You’re wondering why I kissed you, of course.”
Chapter Sixteen
In Need of a Friend
Oh, Nathanial went endearingly pale as her words found their way to him!
Charlaine wanted to hug him. Indeed, he was not a good liar, a quality she appreciated in a friend. Still, he was also one who did not show his affections openly, afraid they would make him vulnerable. That was clear as day.
What was also clear as day was that he wanted her to be his friend. More than that, he needed her to be his friend. There was an almost desperate need in his eyes. However, he would not allow himself to give in to that longing as long as he feared her offer was not genuine.
Hence, the endless game of questions and answers.
His gaze veered from hers, and he took a step backward, his arms swinging to link behind his back.
“Tell me her name,” Charlaine offered, curious to see what he would do, “and I will tell you why I kissed you.”
Nathanial’s eyes returned to meet hers, and she could see that muscle in his jaw twitch. Indeed, it was a telltale sign that deep emotions were stirring under that calm surface of his. “Are you trying to bribe me?”
Charlaine chuckled. Still, the dark suspicion in his gaze made her heart ache. “I’m offering a trade. Remember, give and take? The foundations of any good friendship.” She lifted her chin and held his gaze. “The choice is yours. Far be it from me to pressure you.”
Turning away, Charlaine looked up at the small patch of sky visible from among the tall-growing hedges in Lord Hawthorne’s gardens. The stars twinkled like diamonds, but looked pale in comparison to the sliver of moon that hung upon the black canvas overhead. Still, the sight was one of sheer beauty and Charlaine drew a deep breath into her lungs, welcoming the slight chill of the night air as it tickled her nerves. Then she spread her arms as she had the night before at the masquerade and began to twirl in a small circle.
Her feet moved slowly as she kept her eyes fixed upon the moon, marveling at its beauty, the mystery that surrounded it, the many questions that still demanded answers.
“Abigail.”
Her feet stilled the moment Nathanial’s voice, harsh and curt, drifted to her ears, and she turned to look at him.
His gaze remained on hers, but his teeth ground together, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Her name is Abigail.”
Charlaine nodded. She felt cherished, knowing how hard answering her had been for him, knowing that he had only done so because, deep down, he did not want her to go. “Thank you.” Her voice was gentle as she approached him, her eyes never leaving his while his own moved from hers again and again…but always returned. “I kissed you,” she told him and, this time, he did not look away, “because I was curious to know what it felt like.”
His gaze narrowed in suspicion, in doubt. “I don’t believe you.”
Charlaine had all but expected this. “Then why do you think I kissed you?”
Again, his lips thinned. “Women always have an agenda. They—”
“Oh, and men do not?” she dared him. “Do you truly believe that I wanted to trap you into marriage? Because that is what you’re saying, is it not?”