Her head swung around, her wide, blue eyes finding his. “No one?” she asked dumbfounded, her gaze whispering of disbelief. “Are you serious?”
Nathanial shrugged, then turned his gaze back out the window, that smile still on his face.
Facing him more directly, Abigail watched him, her eyes slightly narrowed. “I cannot believe you’re saying this,” she exclaimed, her voice still ringing with incredulity. “You’ve always been so proper, intent on doing everything just right, never daring to step outside of what is appropriate.” She turned her back to the window, her eyes settling more fully upon his face. “You’ve changed,” she whispered, her gaze growing thoughtful. “You’re different somehow.” She glanced over her shoulder at the pouring rain. “And now, you’re urging me to go outside in the rain?”
Nathanial met her gaze. “Don’t you want to?”
“Of course, I do!”
“Then what’s stopping y—?”
Her arms crossed over her chest. “You never supported my silly fancies as my father called them,” she told him with a huff. “You too thought them silly and childish and—”
“You’re right,” Nathanial interrupted her. “I’ve changed. Now, do you want to go outside?” His gaze held hers, and yet, he did not see her.
For a precious little moment, he saw Charlaine. He saw her exuberant smile and those dark eyes of hers, more often than not lit up with a wicked gleam. Always had she swept him along, not giving him a chance to think things through. More than once, he had tumbled head-first into something he would never have considered had he had time to think on it.
Charlaine, however, had never given him that time, and she had been right not to do so.
“Are you saying you want to come along?” Abigail asked, her jaw dropping in a way that made Nathanial realize he had never known her true self.
Grinning, he grasped her hand, then turned around and pulled her along. They went down the corridor, their steps rushed, eager, impatient, guiding them to the drawing room. There, Nathanial stopped in front of the large French doors and pulled them open.
The sound of pouring rain filled the room, almost deafening to their ears.
“You’re insane,” Abigail gasped as she watched him kick off his shoes, laughter drifting from her lips, her eyes lighting up with something utterly indescribable.
Bending down to pull of his socks, Nathanial looked up at her. “Well?”
Her chest rose and fell once, twice as her wide, blue eyes continued to stare at him. Then she threw her head back and laughed before rushing to rid herself of her own footwear.
Nathanial held out his hand to her. “Ready?”
Grinning, Abigail nodded. “I cannot believe we’re doing this,” she mumbled, then slid her hand into his.
A moment later, they stepped out into the rain together.
Nathanial felt its drumming force upon his head and shoulders, his clothes soaking through within moments. Abigail screamed in delight, her shoulders slightly hunched as she took step after step, tentative at first. Then, however, all restraint fell from her and she began to twirl in a circle, her arms spread as she tilted her face toward the sky, her eyes closed in bliss.
Staring at her, Nathanial felt his thoughts travel back to the night of the masquerade. Once again, he saw Charlaine and remembered his own hesitant step out into a world that had always seemed utterly foreign to him.
But it did no longer. He felt free now, free to do as he pleased, free to admit to himself what he wanted, free to grant it to others.
Looking at Abigail, Nathanial remembered their childhood days.
When they had still been friends.
Long before his proposal.
Long before life had pushed them down a pre-determined path.
And in that moment, as he stared at Abigail in the rain, the look upon her face speaking of a joy he had never before seen in her, Nathanial thought that perhaps Abigail had been right to rebel.
Perhaps she had been right to break free.
Perhaps in doing so, she had saved him from a life he had never realized he did not want.
Chapter Forty
Letters
Charlaine’s hands shook as her feet carried her up the stairs toward her chamber. Her heart beat faster than it had in a fortnight and, for a frightening second, she worried that she might faint. Now, wouldn’t that be embarrassing?
Fortunately, though, she made it to her chamber without a hitch, closing the door behind her with a sigh of relief. A few more steps brought her to the armchair in the corner, and Charlaine let herself fall into its lush upholstery, her eyes fixed on the letter in her hands.
It was from Nathanial.
After a fortnight of silence, he had finally written to her.
A part of Charlaine could not help but be angry with him, tempted to toss it unopened into the flames dancing in the grate. At least, now that autumn had a tight grip on England, it was easier to dispose of unwanted communications.
But was it unwanted?
In truth, Charlaine itched to open it, to find out what had possessed Nathanial to run off without a word. Still, she dreaded reading of his happy reunion with Abigail, and so she simply sat there, staring at the letter for a good long while as the minutes ticked by.
“Oh, don’t be a coward!” Charlaine finally scolded herself, her fingers moving to open the letter. “For better or for worse.”
An unsteady breath made it past her lips as she unfolded the parchment, her eyes seeking the words written upon it.
Dearest Charlaine,
Before I say anything else, I want to assure you that this is not the first letter I’ve written to you since my rather cowardly departure from Markham Hall. Many more lie crumpled at my feet, tossed aside as words eluded me. Try as I might, I could not put down what needed to be said. Everything sounded wrong somehow, and before I knew it, days had passed and I found myself still staring at an empty piece of parchment.
Charlaine could not deny that his honest words warmed her heart for she knew him to be a man who tended to overthink everything before moving forward a single step. That hesitancy was his greatest enemy, but at least now he knew it.
Now, however, I’ve decided to simply sit down and write whatever comes to mind without thought for eloquent words. Perhaps it will allow me to finally finish this letter and send it to you.
Charlaine, I’m truly sorry for what happened at the lake. I never meant to hurt you, and I know that I did. I saw it in your eyes, and I hate myself for snapping at you the way I did.
You’ve only ever been my friend, and I repaid you in a most callous way. I admit that the thought of losing you from my life breaks my heart, and it was that fear that made me run. I need you, and I feared to have lost your friendship. I could not bear the thought of having you look at me with regret and disappointment.
And so I left.
It was cowardly, I know. I ought to have stayed and faced your disappointment, given you the chance to yell at me after our disagreement. Can you forgive me? I pray that you can because I miss you. I miss you terribly. Life is no longer the same without you, and I hope that I have not lost you for good.
Please write to me, and if you so desire, I will return and let you yell at me for as long as you wish!
Your friend,
Nathanial