Charlaine sighed, offering a vague imitation of a smile. “I have not.”
“Are you worried he will not write back?” Emma asked as she pulled to a stop, her gentle, blue eyes slightly narrowed. “Was he not the one to write to you first?”
Turning toward the other woman, Charlaine nodded. “He was, but…” She sighed, pinching her eyes shut. “I might have been a bit direct in my letter.” She cracked one eye open to look at Emma. “I’m afraid he might have misunderstood me.” Her hands flew up in uncertainty. “Yes, I was angry with him, but…”
“You miss him,” Emma offered with a knowing smile.
Charlaine nodded. “I do.” Her gaze traveled over the wind-swept meadow. “It is so strange not seeing him here at Markham Hall. To me, it feels as though he’s always been here. I turn a corner and I expect to see him. It feels as though he should be here because…” She shrugged, staring at Emma, wishing her friend would finish the thought for her. “Because he should be here.”
Emma smiled. “You love him.”
Charlaine hung her head, feeling guilty for an emotion that ought to bring her joy. “I cannot help it. I know I promised him friendship, but…” Her voice trailed off, not knowing what to say. Was there a way to force heart and mind to walk hand in hand?
Charlaine doubted it very much.
“But he loves you, as well,” Daphne stated from behind her, her little voice carried over on the wind.
Surprised, Charlaine spun around, her cheeks heating in a most foreign way. “I thought you were picking leaves with Susan.”
“I was,” Daphne replied, walking over. “Now, I’m not.” Her wide, brown eyes held Charlaine’s with a directness that made her want to drop her gaze. “Did you hear what I said?”
Charlaine swallowed. “Yes.” She looked up and saw Susan rushing toward them, her arms full of leaves.
“So?” Daphne pressed, frowning at Susan when the girl brushed her shoulder on her way to her mother, proudly presenting her collection.
“So what?” Charlaine asked, wishing they could drop the topic. She would not even have addressed the issue had she known Daphne to be within earshot.
“Are you not happy that he loves you?” Daphne asked with a frown. “You look displeased. I thought you loved him as well.” She glanced at Susan. “Sometimes adults don’t make any sense.”
Susan nodded knowingly.
Charlaine huffed out a breath. “Well, it’s complicated. Even if he—” She paused, then frowned at Daphne. “How would you know how he feels about me?” Indeed, it seemed she had not been listening after all. Had Daphne truly said Nathanial loved her as well?
Daphne looked at her in such an indulgent way that Charlaine suddenly felt as though their roles were reversed and she was the little girl with little knowledge of the world. “It’s rather obvious,” Daphne stated in that grown-up tone she sometimes employed. “He looks at you the same way Father looks at Caroline.” Then she glanced at Emma before her gaze moved to Susan and she snickered. “Or the way your mother looked at Ash before he left.”
“What?” Charlaine exclaimed, completely taken off guard. Her gaze snapped to Emma, who had gone rather pale, her eyes shockingly wide and her mouth opening and closing as though she wished to object but could not find the words to do so. “She did?” Charlaine asked, curious what the girl had observed.
Daphne nodded. “Only when he wasn’t looking.”
Charlaine could barely suppress a smile at Emma’s mortified face, momentarily relieved that the focus had moved off her. Still, the way Emma reacted made her wonder if there might not be truth in Daphne’s observation. Did that also mean she was right about Nathanial?
“I didn’t know you kept such a close eye on us,” Charlaine laughed, not knowing what else to say. She was not about to make more specific inquiries toward a six-year-old girl.
Daphne shrugged, then said, “I think you should marry him.”
Charlaine’s jaw dropped. “Pardon me?”
“I think he is your prince,” Daphne elaborated. “You kissed him and now you’re in love. It’s like in the fairy tale.”
“How would you know I…we…?” Charlaine stammered, casting a wary glance at Emma, who still seemed utterly shaken.
“I overheard you talking to Caroline.”
Charlaine frowned at her. “You were eavesdropping?”
A wide grin came to Daphne’s face, the look in her wide, brown eyes stating clearly that she was not sorry in the least and would do so again should the situation call for it.
Unable not to, Charlaine laughed. Then turned to Emma. “Clearly, Daphne needs to learn some manners, wouldn’t you agree?”
Emma nodded, her cheeks now blazing red. “Indeed, I would.” Her voice, however, was barely more than a whisper that Charlaine could not help but wonder if her friend had, indeed, taken a liking to the taciturn lord.
“There he is!” Daphne called, her little finger pointing past Charlaine’s shoulder.
“Who?” Charlaine asked, making to turn in the direction Daphne indicated. “Lord Ashh—?” Her voice died in her throat as her eyes fell on Nathanial heading up the small slope toward them. The wind had tousled his hair, and his coat billowed behind him. He moved in long strides, his gaze sweeping over them before it settled on hers.
Charlaine thought her heart would beat out of her chest. Indeed, never had she reacted to a friend’s visit quite like this. It would seem it was safe to say that she loved him. Not that she had not known so before but, looking at him now, Charlaine was overwhelmed by the urge to throw herself into his arms.
An impulse Daphne quite obviously saw no reason not to react upon for the girl raced down the slope toward him, her arms stretched wide.
Nathanial’s face split into a wide smile and he caught her swiftly, spinning her around as they laughed together.
A moment later, Susan demanded her turn.
Charlaine sighed, watching them. “Why can’t he simply be my friend?”
“Because life is never easy,” Emma said gloomily as she came to stand beside Charlaine, her cheeks still shining in a deeper shade than usual. Then she looked at Charlaine and cast her a warm smile. “I’ll take the girls inside.” She glanced at Nathanial. “You speak to him.”
Charlaine nodded as Emma strode away, wishing she knew what she ought to say. I love you, came to mind. But that was something Nathanial would not want to hear.
Chapter Forty-Two
Return to Markham Hall
“Welcome back, Mr. Caswell,” Miss Glass greeted Nathanial as Daphne and Susan twirled around him, their little mouths not standing still as they told him about their disappointment that the frog they had caught had not changed into a prince after all.
Despite all their efforts.
Then his gaze moved back to Charlaine as she stood up on the slope, her dark curls dancing on the wind, and he barely heard Miss Glass call to the children. His attention was locked on the woman he had longed to see for a month, and now, here she stood, only a few paces away.
Nathanial felt his heart skip a beat as though tripping over its own steps.