Faint notes of a hauntingly beautiful melody drifted down into the gardens, mingling with the soft sounds of summer. The light breeze as it brushed through the trees. The gentle trills and chirps of the birds around them. The tender sigh of a world at peace.
Here.
Now.
In this moment.
Belatedly, Nathanial realized that her feet had yet to land on his and he looked down at her, frowning. “Are you a witch of some kind? For it seems as though you’re floating on air.”
Charlaine chuckled. “Oh, if I were a witch, I’d turn us both into frogs so we could sit in the peaceful pond all day and never have to go up to the house.”
Spinning her around, Nathanial shook his head. “But then we couldn’t dance? Would you not miss it?”
Her nose scrunched up a little as she contemplated his objection. “That is true. No frogs then.”
Nathanial chuckled.
“You should take off your shoes as well,” Charlaine suggested, a bit of a wicked gleam in her eyes as she watched him, no doubt waiting for yet another shocked expression to contort his face.
But this time, it wouldn’t come. “Perhaps one day,” Nathanial whispered, wondering at the possibilities the world suddenly seemed to offer.
Charlaine granted him a most affectionate smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“I know.” And he honestly hoped she would.
*
As the day progressed, Charlaine and Nathanial reluctantly returned inside. Charlaine’s legs still twitched with the joy of dancing with bare feet, the soft grass tickling her soles, cool and fresh. It had been wonderful, and she loved Nathanial for granting her such a joy.
“We will leave London in two days,” his brother told Pierce as they stood in a small circle on the western side of the terrace.
His fiery-haired wife nodded, an eager smile upon her face as she sidled closer to her husband. “There is still too much of the world I haven’t seen.”
Beside her, Nathanial sighed, and Charlaine knew that it was hard for him to bid his brother farewell again.
“I shall miss you,” Caroline exclaimed as she stepped forward and pulled her cousin’s hands into her own. “You must promise to write to me as often as you can.”
Lady Pembroke smiled at her. “I shall do what I can.” She glanced at her husband, who could not suppress a grin. “Will you go to Markham Hall for the summer?”
Caroline nodded and then returned to Pierce’s side. “We, too, will leave Town in two days.” She laughed. “Our journey, however, will not nearly be as far as yours.”
“Will you be back by the end of the year?” Pierce asked Nathanial’s brother. “For Christmas.”
Exchanging a look with his wife, Lord Pembroke said, “I suppose it would be nice to come home for the holidays.”
Nathanial’s jaw twitched, and Charlaine wished she could hug him. It seemed happiness was everywhere, hope and joy, and yet, Nathanial had no place in it. She knew he dreaded his return to Boston—as did she—but perhaps there was a part of him that was hoping for an alternative to present itself.
A part he himself was not even aware of.
Now, with everyone making plans that did not include him, he was forced to face the truth. At least, the truth as he saw it. Charlaine, however, knew better.
“Will you go to Markham Hall as well?” Nathanial asked her quietly as the others chatted happily about the summer and all their plans.
Charlaine smiled at him. “I will.” Her eyes held his as she spoke, and her heart rejoiced at the deep regret that came to his face upon hearing her answer. He had truly come to care for her, had he not? Indeed, despite his initial insistence to the contrary, it seemed that Mr. Nathanial Caswell had finally found a friend.
“I wish you a good time,” he told her with a set jaw. A smile appeared on his face, but it looked a bit grotesque and far from genuine.
Smiling up at him, Charlaine reached for his hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Don’t look so glum, Nathanial. I promise before you know it I’ll be stepping on your toes again.”
A soft chuckle rumbled in his throat and, this time, the smile that came to his lips was as true and genuine as she had ever seen. If only she could share her plan with him! However, it would be prudent to speak to Pierce first.
Then she would write Nathanial a letter.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A Lady’s Letter
Never had London been this dreary, not even when he had first arrived.
A sennight ago, everyone Nathanial cared about had left. While Zach and Becca had returned to traveling the world, Lord Markham and his wife, along with the children and Charlaine, had gone to the country, spending their summer at Markham Hall.
Only Nathanial had remained.
And yet, deep down, he knew that it was time he returned to Boston. After all, there was nothing for him in England, was there? He did not have a place here, not like Zach did.
Now that Charlaine had left, her cheerful, lighthearted presence no longer silencing those nagging questions and doubts, Nathanial was forced to realize that the time to leave had come.
He had dreaded it.
He had dreaded the thought of returning to Boston.
Of seeing Abigail again.
Of returning to a life filled with nothing but loneliness.
All that awaited him in Boston was his father’s business, his legacy. And yet, the thought of doing his duty to his family helped Nathanial move forward. He asked Gusford, his brother’s butler, to book passage for him on the next available ship and then ready his things.
It was time to go home.
I suppose it would be nice to come home for the holidays. Unexpectedly, his brother’s words filled Nathanial’s mind, reminding him that now when Zach spoke of home, he no longer meant their childhood brownstone in Boston.
Now, he meant Pembroke Hall, England.
Seated in the library, Nathanial closed the book he had been reading and set it aside. He could not even remember what had been written on its pages for his mind continued to circle the decision he had made but could not make his peace with.
A knock that to his ears sounded as deafening as a shot made Nathanial shoot to his feet. “Yes!”
Gusford entered, a silver platter balanced upon his right hand. “A letter was delivered for you, Mr. Caswell.” The man’s balding head gleamed in the sun shining in through the tall windows.
“Thank you, Gusford,” Nathanial said, taking the correspondence.
Gusford nodded and then left.
The moment Nathanial’s eyes fell on the delicate, but forceful scrawl, his heart almost beat out of his chest and his fingers rushed to tear open the envelope and unfold the parchment within.
My dearest Nathanial,
I can only assume that you have returned to your former ways of skulking in the corner and watching life pass you by. I am right, am I not? Now, don’t roll your eyes at me for I will not have it.
I also assume you’ve already booked passage back to Boston. Well, cancel it! Are your bags sitting by the door, ready to go? Good. I want you to order your brother’s carriage and come to Markham Hall.
Today.
Nathanial did not know what to feel in that moment. All he did know was that he could not stop smiling.
Pierce and Caroline were delighted when I asked them if you could stay with us until the next Season. They bid me tell y—