A slight flush came to her cheeks and her teeth sank into her lower lip as a soft smile tugged on the corners of her mouth.
It was such an innocent reaction. It unwittingly drew Nathanial’s attention back to the day at the lake. God, I wish I could kiss her! He thought yet again.
“Will she return to Boston then?” Charlaine asked into the silence as he kept staring at her in a rather dumbfounded fashion.
Clearing his throat, Nathanial tried to collect his thoughts. “No, I asked her to stay.”
Charlaine’s gaze widened. “Pardon me? Why would you do that?”
“Because she needs a friend,” Nathanial replied with a soft smile. “As did I. Her father is pressuring her to marry according to his wishes, and she is all alone.” He sighed. “I suppose I should have seen her turmoil when we were engaged. But I didn’t.”
Releasing his arm, Charlaine moved a few steps away, her head slightly bowed. Then she turned around, her gaze rising to meet his. “So, you want to be her friend.”
Nathanial nodded, slightly confused by her tempered response. He had thought she would most enthusiastically encourage his intention to offer his help to Abigail. “I do,” he replied, wondering if she was merely testing his resolve. “We’ve spoken a lot this past month and…and gotten to know each other beyond the past we share.” He chuckled. “I must admit that there are sides to her I have never seen before. In fact, she often reminds me of you.”
“Me?” Charlaine’s face seemed oddly pale as she once more wrapped her arms around herself.
Nathanial frowned. “Are you all right? Perhaps we should go inside. It is rather cold today.”
“Perhaps we should,” she mumbled and strode past him, hurrying down toward the house as though she could no longer bear his presence.
Heaving a deep breath, Nathanial followed her, wondering what it was that had upset her. To his great dismay, it seemed that the brutal honesty they had once promised each other had been lost. Of course, he, too, was to blame for the half-truths and white lies that now lingered in the air between them.
Was there any way to remedy what had torn them apart?
Chapter Forty-Three
A Most Inconvenient Guest
After supper, Charlaine retreated to the library, her thoughts hopelessly jumbled.
While her heart rejoiced, the breath lodging in her throat whenever Nathanial’s gaze met her own, her mind knew not what to make of his return. Hope and fear warred within her, and Charlaine felt utterly overwhelmed by these odd emotions.
Never had she been one to shy away from confrontations. Never had she been one to hide and not speak her mind. Never had she felt torn in such a profound way.
“Are you all right?” came Nathanial’s voice from the door.
Charlaine tensed, torn between maintaining an outward appearance of friendly delight and the overwhelming desire to throw herself into his arms. How on earth had all this happened? Merely a few weeks ago, Nathanial had been her friend and nothing more. Life had been simpler then.
“I’m fine,” she told him with a small smile she hoped looked more convincing than it felt. “Only a bit tired. It’s been a long day.” As he closed the door, Charlaine turned back to the window, her gaze drawn to the green hills slowly being swallowed up by the encroaching dark.
His footsteps echoed closer, and Charlaine felt a small shiver dance down her back as he approached. Her hands began to tremble, and she knew not what to do about it. “How long do you plan to stay?” The words left her lips in a rush, something to say, something to fill the silence.
Coming to stand beside her, Nathanial gazed out at the darkening world. “Well, that depends.”
“On what?” Charlaine asked, trying to ignore the way her chest rose and fell with each tense breath. She could no longer deny that the threat of his renewed departure made her feel ill. Still, how were they supposed to continue if he were to stay? Clearly, the ease that had once existed between them was all but lost. Were they even still friends? Could one call it that?
Nathanial heaved a deep sigh, then turned to look at her. “Would you mind if I invited Abigail to join us here?”
Charlaine felt a chilling cold seep into her bones.
“She is all alone at Pembroke Hall,” Nathanial continued, a warm glow coming to his eyes as he looked at her. “I do believe she could do with a bit of a distraction, someone to speak to, someone to inspire her.” His smile deepened. After a moment of hesitation, Nathanial reached for her hand. “Who better to inspire her than you?”
Charlaine tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Me?” she all but croaked. The touch of Nathanial’s hands upon hers stole her breath, and yet, his words chilled her heart. How could he not see that the thought of Abigail hurt her?
Of course, he had called Abigail a friend. He had insisted that she had been his fiancée, but was no longer. Still, that did not mean he did not hope for more. For a reunion. Was that why he had offered to be Abigail’s friend? In the hopes of reclaiming her heart?
“You truly care for her, do you not?” Charlaine asked, her eyes searching his face, not certain what answer she was hoping for. Nathanial was a good man—always had been—and Charlaine loved him for it. Still…
Smiling at her, Nathanial nodded. “I’ve known her almost all my life.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I cannot recall a time without her, and yet, I feel as though I met a completely new person when she came to Pembroke Hall.” He frowned. “It is strange how people can suddenly seem different or how one suddenly sees them in a different light.” His gaze sobered, lingered on hers and he drew in a slow breath, his hands still holding on to hers. “Do you mind?”
Charlaine swallowed, then forced a smile onto her face. “Of course not.” How could she refuse such a request? After all, she had been the one to teach him about the meaning of friendship. Was that not what he had said? He wanted to be there for Abigail in her time of need as she, Charlaine, had been there for him. She could not fault him for that.
She could not say no.
And so a few days later, Charlaine found herself standing beside Nathanial on the front steps as they watched a carriage make its way up the gravel drive toward Markham Hall. The winds blew fiercely, tossing leaves about and rustling through the trees. The skies hung full of dark clouds, blocking out the sun, a matching echo of the misery that lived in Charlaine’s heart.
“Her father is not objecting to her staying in England?” Charlaine asked as they waited, the carriage moving closer with each tense breath to leave her lips.
Nathanial turned to look at her. “I assume he will not be pleased,” he admitted, a slight frown coming to his face. “I admit I had not considered it.” He sighed. “We shall see.” Then he moved forward to open the door as the carriage pulled to a halt, eagerness in his step.
Charlaine inhaled a deep breath as she watched a golden-haired, young woman emerge from the carriage, her wide, blue eyes lighting up with joy as she beheld Nathanial. Then she flung herself into his arms. “Oh, I’ve missed you!” she whispered loud enough for Charlaine to hear.
It felt like a knife plunged into Charlaine’s heart, and she had to fight to keep tears from pooling in her eyes. How on earth had this happened? When had Nathanial, her dear and trusted friend, become the one man she could not live without? The one man she wanted to claim for herself?