While he worried about Abigail, unable to forget the forlorn look upon her face when he had made it clear that they did not have a future together, he still could not stop wondering where Charlaine had gone. It was not like her to disappear and leave the girls without a word. Had something upset her?
He tensed. Had she seen him and Abigail kiss on the terrace? After all, Daphne had said Charlaine had looked out the window and then run off. But why would it bother her to see him and Abigail together? Was she angry with him for forgiving Abigail after what had happened? There could be no other reason, could there? After all, Charlaine and he were merely friends.
That word was beginning to feel like a curse, a swear word, an insult, and he gritted his teeth against a wave of annoyance that suddenly rushed through him.
Without another word, Nathanial strode from the room, determined to find Charlaine and speak to her. He could no longer bear the distance that lingered between them. Yes, she still spoke to him, laughed and smiled, but there was something wrong in the way she met his gaze. She no longer spoke honestly, and he could almost see something hiding behind every word to leave her lips.
Rushing from room to room, Nathanial grew more and more frustrated when he continued to come up empty. It seemed the world had opened up and swallowed her whole. Where on earth could she be?
After at least half an hour of futile searching, Nathanial circled back to the drawing room, wondering if Charlaine had reappeared in his absence. His feet carried him toward the front hall in long strides when he suddenly stopped.
Across the hall, Charlaine stood near the doors to the drawing room, her back to him and her hands slightly balled at her sides. She seemed tense, even annoyed perhaps, and he wondered yet again what had sent her running from the room earlier.
Nathanial was just about to approach her when Lord Ashhaven stepped into the hall.
Without so much as a glance in Nathanial’s direction, the other man moved toward Charlaine with what seemed like single-minded intent.
Nathanial felt his insides tense. Something odd was going on. But what?
Never had Lord Ashhaven paid any attention toward Charlaine beyond expected niceties. Now, however, he stepped close—too close for Nathanial’s liking—and addressed her in a hushed voice.
Turning around, Charlaine looked up at the tall man suddenly towering above her. Her gaze never veered from his face. Her eyes took on a somewhat odd expression, one Nathanial didn’t understand. Then she suddenly smiled at the tall lord, a smile that made the blood boil in Nathanial’s veins.
What sent him over the edge, though, was the way Lord Ashhaven reached for her in the next moment, drawing her arm through his, holding her close, before he led her away, the look in his gaze almost predatory.
A moment of stunned paralysis passed agonizingly slowly before Nathanial found himself rushing after them. He knew not why, did not dare to wonder, but still could not bring himself to stop.
*
After speaking to Abigail, Charlaine had searched high and low, looking for Nathanial. However, the man seemed to have disappeared, and with each minute that ticked by, Charlaine’s annoyance grew.
After the last few weeks tiptoeing around one another, never speaking their minds openly, always afraid of how their words would be understood, Charlaine wanted clarity above all else.
No, she needed clarity above all else.
“Don’t turn around.”
Charlaine almost flinched at Lord Ashhaven’s deep voice right behind her. She had not even heard him approach. Had he always been this stealthy? “Why?” she inquired a little breathlessly, nonetheless doing as he had demanded.
“I can help you if you do as I ask,” he replied ominously, inching closer until she could all but feel this broad chest brushing against her back.
“This feels strange,” she said, not certain what he was up to. Still, the tone in his voice somehow reassured her.
His hand touched her arm. “Now turn and look at me.”
Doing as he had asked, Charlaine looked up into his guarded eyes. “What is going on?”
His gaze held hers, the hint of a warning lingering there. “Mr. Caswell is currently standing across the room, staring holes into the back of my head. Don’t look!” he rushed to add when her gaze was inevitably drawn past his shoulder. “Now smile at me.”
“Why are you doing this?” Charlaine inquired, an amused smile coming to her lips. “Are you…?” She paused. “Are you trying to help me?”
His expression remained mostly unrevealing. Then the ghost of a smile teased his lips. “I admit I have grown annoyed with the way the two of you dance around one another.”
Her smile deepened. “How did you know?”
“It is rather obvious.”
Charlaine swallowed. “Do you think he cares for me?” Only this morning, she would never even have imagined asking Lord Ashhaven such an intimate question. However, right here, right now, he all but felt like her most trusted confidante. There was something utterly trust-inspiring about him.
Again, the corner of his mouth twitched. “That is an understatement. The man is utterly besotted with you.” The corner of his mouth twitched again. “As you are with him.”
Charlaine felt a slight blush come to her cheeks. Lord Ashhaven’s words warmed her heart. “Then what now? How do you suggest I proceed?”
“Simply do as I say.” Then he slipped her arm through the crook of his, pulled her close—too close to be considered appropriate—and then guided her out of the hall and toward another sitting room off the corridor that led to the back of the house.
Charlaine went along, her heart beating faster and faster as her hopes rose higher with each step they took. However, when they passed the curved staircase leading to the upper floor, she almost cringed when she caught sight of Emma’s shocked face, staring down at them with wide, unblinking eyes.
It would seem Daphne’s observation had been spot on!
Charlaine, however, had no time to worry about her friend’s feelings in that moment for Lord Ashhaven opened the door to the nearest room and pulled her inside, closing the door behind them with a swift kick of his boot.
A giggle escaped Charlaine, which she thought rather effective considering that this was meant to make Nathanial jealous, was it not? That was Lord Ashhaven’s plan. To confront Nathanial with the possibility of losing her to another if he didn’t act.
Charlaine knew only too well how that felt for the moment she had seen him kiss Abigail had been devastating. She could only hope that Nathanial would respond as Lord Ashhaven assumed. What if he simply bowed his head and left?
The thought sent a cold shiver down her spine.
Charlaine detested fooling Nathanial. She knew well how deeply Abigail’s betrayal had cut him. It had been the reason she had promised him brutal honesty.
To reassure him.
To set his heart and mind at ease.
To lure him out of the dark.
Still, the thought that he might not care for her the same way she cared for him continued to linger in her blood. Despite Lord Ashhaven’s reassurances, a part of her wondered if Nathanial could truly love her.
See her for who she was.
Cherish her as she cherished him.
Friends they had been, and it had felt like a perfect fit. As though they had been made for one another. As though they had been made to walk through life hand in hand. And then everything had changed. Who were they now to each other? Who could they be?