by Bree Wolf
Gritting his teeth, Nathanial pushed himself to his feet, running a hand through his wet hair and then over his face as he began to pace along the water’s edge.
“Is something wrong?”
Jerking around, Nathanial found Charlaine looking up at him, her eyes wide and her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. She had propped herself up onto her elbows, her feet still in the cooling waters of the lake. Her skin glistened in the sun where his hands had touched her, leaving wetness in their wake, and her light summer dress now clung to her body for his own soaked clothing had been pressed to hers in a most intimate way.
Looking down at her, Nathanial wanted nothing more than to continue what they had started.
Don’t get me wet! She had said. Odd, how that sentence now kept echoing in his mind. Had she not wanted him to touch her? Had she seen in his eyes where his thoughts had wandered? After all, she had promised him friendship. She had not asked for anything else.
“I’m sorry,” Nathanial mumbled, unable to meet her eyes. “I shouldn’t have…” His words trailed off, regret and shame surging into his heart. “I’ll go.” Then he spun around and stalked away.
“Wait!”
The sound of Charlaine’s voice stopped him. And yet, he could not turn around to face her. He heard her soft footsteps as she approached and pinched his eyes shut, his hands balling into fists lest he…
“What happened?” she asked, and he felt her small hands brush over his arm as she stepped around him. “Look at me, Nathanial. Please.”
Swallowing, Nathanial complied, knowing he owed her more than a quick apology.
Her dark eyes were wide as they met his, a warm glow in them he did not deserve. “What happened?” she whispered as her gaze swept his face. “Please talk to me.” Her hands rose to cup his face.
Nathanial flinched, shrinking back, afraid he would do something unwise if he felt her soft hands on him again.
At his retreat, something akin to pain came to her eyes. “What did I do?” she whispered, and he could see a tear forming in the corner of her right eye. “I know I promised not to kiss you again, but…” Her voice trailed off. The look in her eyes, however, was more than explicit.
Nathanial nodded. “I know.” He swallowed. “You did nothing wrong. It was I who…” He gritted his teeth, the burden of holding her gaze becoming a crushing weight upon his heart. “I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry.”
She stepped toward him. “But—”
“No!” He held up a hand to keep her at bay. “You promised to be my friend, and I promised you the same.”
At his words, she stilled, her chest rising and falling slowly as she regarded him. “You kissed me.” She spoke softly, her eyes watchful. “And I kissed you back. We both crossed that line.” She swallowed. “Do you wish we hadn’t?”
Nathanial nodded. “I do,” he said before he could rethink his answer, afraid that anything less than a definite reply would forever ruin what they had come to mean to each other over the last few months. “I wish it had never happened.”
Swallowing, Charlaine exhaled a trembling breath and her arms rose to wrap around herself, hugging herself tightly. She looked vulnerable all of a sudden as though a mild breeze could knock her off her feet.
“I’m sorry,” Nathanial said yet again, wishing he could reach out and comfort her as he would have only the day before. However, he needed her to understand. “I never meant to hurt you, but I…I need you to be my friend.” Did that sound as selfish as it felt? “And I will be yours. I promise.”
A strained smile came to her face. “As though it never happened,” she whispered, her gaze holding his, something guarded hiding in those dark eyes of hers.
Nathanial nodded. “As though it never happened,” he echoed, praying that they were not fooling themselves, that they could recover from this, that they could return to how they had been before.
Friends.
Another shiver shook her, and her hands tightened upon her arms.
“You should get inside,” Nathanial told her, uncomfortable knowing that he had been the one to cause her chills. “You need to change into something dry.”
A long sigh escaped her lips. “I’m not cold,” she told him. Still, her feet moved and she turned around, heading back toward the house.
Stifling a frustrated growl, Nathanial began to pace between the trees, his hands moving about wildly, raking through his hair before once again rubbing across his face. He was at a loss, not knowing how to rid himself of this sense of inevitable loss for despite the words they had spoken, the promises they had made, Nathanial could not shake that choking fear that he had lost her.
His gaze strayed to her shrinking form again and again as she proceeded toward the house and then slipped inside, lost to his gaze.
Lost to him.
Again and again, the urge to follow her, to find her, to seek her out and mend the rift between them gripped him, sending him a few strides in her direction before he stopped yet again, remembering that he knew not how to do so.
The afternoon slowly drew to an end, and the air grew chilled, raising goosebumps upon his skin. Nathanial knew he ought to return to the house, however, the thought of seeing Charlaine terrified him. What if she did not dare look at him? What if the sight of him sent her fleeing from the room? What if they could no longer talk to each other?
In the end, he slunk into the house through a side entrance like a coward or a thief, someone unworthy and undeserving. It was an emotion he knew well, bringing with it an image of Abigail’s face as she had turned from him, her words cutting him to shreds.
With a sigh, Nathanial closed the door to his chamber behind him, his head rolling back and coming to rest against the sturdy wood. For a long moment, he remained as he was, immobile, locked in a moment, before he heard the soft sound of water dripping from his clothing and onto the parquet floor.
Looking down, he moved into the room, pulled his wet shirt off and flung it into a corner. Then he turned toward his armoire, his gaze drifting over the small table near the door. Upon it, he glimpsed a letter. Had Zach written to him? His brother’s last letter had arrived a while back for it seemed he had something better to do on his honeymoon than keep his twin informed of all the countries through which they were traveling.
A few steps carried Nathanial back to the door, his hand reaching for the envelope the moment his eyes settled upon his name written on the front. The delicate handwriting, curved and expressive, stole the air from his lungs for he knew it well.
Had seen it many times.
Abigail.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Disappointed Hopes
“What do you mean he is gone?” Her own voice sounded shrill to Charlaine’s ears as she stared at Caroline. “He can’t be gone!” Her head spun around, her eyes searching the drawing room as though she simply had to look hard enough to spot him.
Caroline sighed, her blue eyes looking at Charlaine with compassion and regret. “He spoke to Pierce late last night. Pierce tried to detain him, but Nathanial wouldn’t hear of it.” She reached for Charlaine’s trembling hands. “Pierce said he seemed…haunted somehow…as though he was running from something.” Her eyes searched Charlaine’s. “What happened?”
Shaking her head, Charlaine turned away, then began to pace up and down the room, her thoughts drawn back to the moment at the lake only the day before. Had only a day passed since then? “How could he simply leave without a word?” She turned to look at Caroline, feeling tears prick the backs of her eyes. “He didn’t even say goodbye.”
A few quick steps carried Caroline to Charlaine’s side, her arms coming around the young woman, offering comfort. “Something must have rattled him. Perhaps he received word from home. Perhaps something happened. Perhaps there is a very good reason for why he left.”
Charlaine wished she could believe Caroline’s reasoning. “Even if there was some kind of urgency, he would have sa
id something.” She pulled back, meeting Caroline’s gaze. “He’s not the kind of man to leave without a word.” She shook her head. The thought that he cared so little for her felt like a crushing weight upon her shoulders. “I thought he was my friend.”
Caroline grasped her hands. “He is your friend.” The certainty in her friend’s voice eased the pain in Charlaine’s heart. “He cares for you greatly. There can be no doubt about it.” Again, Caroline searched Charlaine’s face. “What happened?”
Closing her eyes, Charlaine sighed. “I wanted to swing and drop into the lake like Pierce told us he and Lord Ashhaven did when they were young.” She opened her eyes to look at Caroline and found an amused smile upon the other woman’s face. “What? You think I’m mad, too, don’t you?”
Chuckling, Caroline shook her head. “Oh, I don’t mean it like that, dearest.” Her hands squeezed Charlaine’s, a warm glow in her eyes. “You are an unusual woman, that is all.”
Charlaine hung her head. “Perhaps that is why he left.”
“No,” Caroline objected without a second’s hesitation. “It is why he became your friend. He was in a dark place when he came to London. We all could see it.” She shook her head, a smile dancing onto her face. “But he is not anymore, and that is because of you. You saved him from himself, and I do believe he knows it.”
“Then why did he leave?” Charlaine snapped, jerking her hands free from Caroline’s grasp and beginning to pace again.
“What else happened at the lake?” Caroline inquired as she watched her through narrowed eyes. “Something had to have or he would not have left in the night.” She stepped forward and grasped Charlaine’s arm, stopping her. “Tell me.”
Charlaine swallowed, and a trembling breath left her lips. “He kissed me.”
“He kissed you?” Caroline’s gaze widened.
Charlaine nodded. “I kissed him back. We…” A small smile stole onto her face. “It was wonderful. I didn’t see it coming. We were in the lake, splashing each other. He was laughing.” Remembering the moment they had ended up in the grass by the shore made her ache, for if she closed her eyes she could still feel his hands on her, tracing the line of her neck and slipping into her hair. She could still feel the soft brush of his lips against hers, the way he had cradled her in his arms, his heart beating fast against her own.
“What happened then?” Caroline asked quietly, her voice soft, almost cautiously. “After you kissed?”
Charlaine sighed. “He pulled away. He looked…haunted.” Was that not the word Pierce had used when Nathanial had taken his leave? Had it been their kiss that had sent him away? “He said he wished it had never happened, that it had been a mistake.” She swallowed. “He said he needed me to be his friend.” A frustrated growl rose from her throat. “Ugh! I knew this would happen!” She spun around and began pacing again. “Did I not say that he needed me to be his friend?” she demanded, her eyes turning to Caroline. “Did I not say that this could not be about what I wanted? But about what he needed?”
“And…what is it that you want?”
“I—” Meeting Caroline’s inquisitive gaze, Charlaine stilled. “I want…I, too, want him to be my friend.”
Caroline’s brows rose questioningly. “Only your friend?”
A sharp breath left Charlaine’s lips. “Speak plainly, would you?” she snapped, getting annoyed with Caroline’s circumspect way of drawing out what she wished to know. “This is most irritating!”
To Charlaine’s surprised, Caroline laughed. “You’re angry,” she observed with utter amusement in her voice. “I admit, to this day, I’ve never seen you angry.” Caroline’s head bobbed up and down as she stepped toward Charlaine, once again reaching for her friend’s hands. “Listen to me, and I will speak plainly.”
Charlaine huffed out an agitated breath, but nodded.
“You love him,” Caroline told her, hurrying on when Charlaine opened her mouth to object. “It is clear as day, and it is probably the reason why he ran away.”
Charlaine flinched. “You think…he left because he doesn’t l—”
“No, he ran because he loves you as well and is afraid of what that might mean.” Caroline squeezed her hands. “He’s afraid to lose you, to lose what you two found in each other. You’re friends, yes, and that is a great treasure. I think you both know that, and you’re both afraid to lose each other if you dare to reach for more.”
Charlaine stilled as Caroline’s words echoed in her heart. Indeed, Nathanial had come to mean a great deal to her in these past few months. They had spoken to each other without restraint, shared the most painful moments of their lives with each other. They had offered comfort and received the same in return. They had teased each other and laughed together. They had been friends in every possible meaning of the word, but…
…but then something had changed.
Charlaine could no longer think of Nathanial without remembering the moment in the stables or at the lake. She had lain awake most of the previous night, replaying their kiss in her mind, recalling every single touch of his hands upon her skin, the way his lips had felt pressed to hers, the way she had ached for the closeness, the intimacy she had felt in that moment.
Nathanial was the one who knew her like no one else in the world. She had shared everything with him, and she could no longer imagine a life without him. Her heart needed him as her body needed its next breath, and the thought of facing this world, its joys as well as its heartache, without him felt utterly devastating.
“I love him,” Charlaine whispered, shocked that such a simple truth had eluded her. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before. I…”
Caroline brushed a curl behind Charlaine’s ear. “You, too, were afraid, dearest. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, the way you speak to each other. He’s come to mean the world to you, and it made you afraid.”
Charlaine nodded. “I promised I’d be his friend,” she said, remembering how insistent he had been upon it. “I promised I did not wish for more.” She met Caroline’s gaze. “When we met, he thought I wanted him as a suitor and he said he wasn’t interested.” A dark chuckle rumbled in her throat. “He was very clear about what he wanted…or rather about what he didn’t want.”
“He didn’t know you at the time,” Caroline whispered gently. “He was hurt and afraid of being hurt again, but then he got to know you.” An encouraging smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I think realizing how much you mean to him overwhelmed him as well.”
“What do I do now?” Charlaine asked, completely at a loss. “He left, and I…”
“You write to him,” Caroline replied with vehemence. “Or better yet, go after him. Don’t let him get away.” A wicked twinkle came to her eyes. “Men sometimes need a nudge in the right direction.”
Charlaine chuckled. “Even Pierce?”
“Even Pierce,” Caroline confirmed with a smirk. “If you want Nathanial, then you need to tell him. Be honest. Is that not what you promised him?”
Charlaine sighed. “I also promised him to be his friend and nothing more. It seems one promise I’ll have to break.”
“Be sure to break the right one,” Caroline counseled. “Because you’ll forever regret it if you—”
A knock sounded on the door and, a moment later, Donahue stepped into the drawing room. “Pardon me, my lady,” he greeted Caroline, a warm smile upon his bearded face and a letter in his remaining hand. “One of the maids found this in Mr. Caswell’s chamber.” He glanced at Charlaine.
“Thank you, Donahue,” Caroline said, taking the letter.
The moment Donahue closed the door behind him, she held it out to Charlaine. “Do you know who this is from?” She turned it in her hands. “It looks like he’s opened it.”
Staring at the feminine handwriting, Charlaine drew in a slow breath. “Perhaps this explains why he left.”
“Should we send it after him?” Caroline asked, the same contradicting emotions upon her fa
ce Charlaine felt tugging on her heart.
“It would certainly be the right thing to do,” Charlaine replied before her fingers snatched the letter from Caroline’s grasp and pulled out the folded parchment. She knew she ought not. Still, there was that nagging feeling that this letter would answer the uncertainties that were currently assaulting her mind. The only question was: would she like the answers?
My dearest Nathanial,
Long months have passed since you left Boston, since we last spoke. I deeply regret all that happened, all that I did that brought you pain. I, too, feel it for your absence has made me realize something I had forgotten.
You are not only the dearest and truest friend I ever had, but also the man who still holds my heart. I feel awful for allowing myself to be led astray. I assure you it was not you I had grown tired of, but rather the life forced on us by our families. My heart longed for excitement and adventure, but I ought to have sought it with you by my side.
I made a grave mistake, and I know that it is unforgivable. Still, I find I cannot sleep for the thought of your pain keeps me up every night. I need to speak with you. I need to tell you the truth, even if it doesn’t change anything. I know it cannot change what happened, but I need you to know that I still love you and that I never stopped.
Tears fell from Charlaine’s eyes and onto the parchment, blurring the ink. Her heart beat painfully in her chest as she read Abigail’s words, knowing that her hold on Nathanial’s heart was unbroken. He had left not because of their kiss, but because of her.
Because of Abigail.
Because he still loved her…just as she still loved him.
I wanted to tell you in person. However, when I spoke to Mr. Johnson and inquired about your return, I was shocked to hear that you had extended your stay in England. My heart ached with such longing that I knew I could not wait.
I booked passage to England and crossed an ocean to speak with you. I’m at Pembroke Hall, awaiting your return. Please come! Please!