How to Turn a Frog into a Prince

by Wolf, Bree

  Nathanial chuckled, wondering if his skin had turned green. “You meddled?” he asked as Daphne’s words sank in. “How did you—?” He stopped, then shook his head. “You know what? I don’t even want to know.” Smiling at the girls, he stepped toward them. “Of course, you can be flower girls. We’d be honored.”

  Cheering loudly, Daphne and Susan danced up and down the corridor, alternately hugging each other and twirling in artful circles.

  Nathanial watched them with a deep smile on his face and utter contentedness in his heart.

  Indeed, he had been a frog, bitter and jaded, a glower upon his face, his eyes only seeing betrayal and disappointment around every corner.

  And then Charlaine had come into his life, and her warmth and her kindness, her honesty and her loyalty, her vivaciousness and her unyielding belief that all would be well had changed him in more ways than he could say.

  By all accounts, she had turned him from a frog into a prince.

  And he would forever be grateful for it.

  *

  Energy hummed in her veins as Charlaine strode down the corridor toward Pierce’s study. With each step, it seemed she was gaining speed. Unable to hold her steps, she burst through the door, not bothering to knock, completely unable to wait a second longer. “Pierce, I need to speak with you!”

  At her forceful entry, Pierce’s head snapped up and his eyes widened. “Why? What happened?” He shot to his feet, alarm on his face as he hasted toward her. “Are you all right?” His gaze moved over her as though checking for injuries.

  Charlaine chuckled and grasped his hands, beaming up at him, unable not to smile. “I am perfectly fine,” she told him, feeling the corners of her mouth stretch even farther. “In fact, I have never been this happy.”

  All tension fell from Pierce’s face, and a brief a sigh of relief escaped him. “I’m glad to hear it. Then do I dare ask what brings you here?”

  “I need a favor.”

  His gaze narrowed ever so slightly. “A favor? What kind of favor? Are you in any kind of trouble?”

  Charlaine laughed, the same energy as before still humming in her veins, making her almost bounce on the spot. “I’m afraid I’m in most serious trouble,” she told him, trying her best not to smile, to look serious and forlorn. She failed miserably though. “I’m in love, and I wish to be married without delay.”

  Pierce’s jaw dropped.

  “So you see,” Charlaine said, squeezing his hands. “without your help, I’ll be truly and utterly lost. Will you procure a special license for Nathanial and me wish to be married as fast as humanly possible?”

  Another second passed as Pierce continued to stare at her. Then he swallowed, the look upon his face torn between confusion and amusement. “So, he finally ask you to marry him?”

  Charlaine shook her head.

  A deep frown settled upon Pierce’s forehead. “Then I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Well, it’s actually quite simple.”

  “Is it?” Pierce demanded doubtfully.

  “Yes, I asked him to marry me, and he accepted. See? Simple!”

  “You asked him?”

  Charlaine shrugged, grinning at him, still unable not to. Indeed, this was taking too long. Much too long. “You know me,” she told Pierce impatiently, her feet now truly bouncing her up and down. “I know what I want, and I want him. So why wait?”

  Sighing, Pierce brushed a hand over his face, still looking a bit incredulous. “Why, indeed?” He heaved another deep sigh, then gestured to one of the armchairs. “Please sit. Your fidgeting is driving me mad.”

  Although reluctant, Charlaine dropped onto the seat, trying her best to be patient…or at least appear to be. “What can I do for you?” she asked calmly, her fingers drumming on the armrests of her chair nonetheless.

  Seating himself, Pierce looked at her. “I know you’ve always done things your way, but I would like to take a moment and discuss your next steps. Are you certain—?”

  “Yes!”

  He frowned at her. “Don’t you think it would be better if you—?”

  “No!”

  Pierce’s frown deepened. “But what would Peter say if—?”

  “He would be happy for me,” Charlaine said, not a single doubt in her body that it would be so. “I know you worry, Pierce, and I love you for it, but there is no need. I love Nathanial, and he loves me.” She sighed wistfully, remembering the many times she had talked to Peter about life and love and death. “This is what he always wanted for me. This is what he had with my sister.” She gave him a warm smile. “It is what you and Caroline have, is it not?”

  An answering smile danced onto Pierce’s face. “It is,” he said softly. “Please, do not believe I doubt you. I only want to be sure…”

  “I know.”

  He pressed his hands flat onto the surface of his desk, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I know how deeply Peter cared for you and that he wished for nothing more than to see you happy.” He paused. “Will this make you happy?”

  Charlaine nodded as tears began to mist her eyes. Oh, how she wished Peter could be here! As a little girl, she had always dreamed that, one day, he would walk her down the aisle, that he would give her away, smile at her and tell her all would be well.

  Rising from his chair, Pierce rounded the desk and knelt down beside her chair. His large hands settled upon hers as he looked into her eyes. “You are the most unusual woman I have ever met,” he told her warmly, pride ringing in his voice. “I suppose it is only right that you should have the most unusual courtship and wedding. Anything else would be frighteningly insufficient, would it not?”

  Charlaine’s heart warmed at his words, and she smiled at him. Tears ran down her cheeks and dripped onto his hands, still covering hers. Always would he keep her safe. Always would he look out for her. Always would he be at her side.

  Just as Peter had.

  Squeezing her hand gently, Pierce pushed to his feet, pulling her along with him. “Very well, I’ll do this for you. I’ll procure a special license,” he paused and lifted a finger, “but only under one condition.”

  Charlaine frowned. “What condition? You know, I don’t like conditions.”

  He chuckled. “How could I forget?”

  Tapping her foot rather impatiently, Charlaine regarded him. “Well then, what is it?”

  A slow grin spread over his face as he leaned forward, fixing her with a pointed look. “At least during the wedding ceremony,” he paused, and Charlaine felt her skin crawl with a mixture of anticipation and dread, “you must wear shoes.” A large grin spread over his face, and a wicked gleam came to his eyes.

  Charlaine was about to huff out an annoyed breath when a voice spoke out from behind her. “You don’t have to agree to this,” Nathanial chuckled, coming to stand next to her. Utter joy resonated in his voice and lingered upon his face as he reached out and gently draped an arm across her shoulders. “I’ll marry you even without shoes.”

  Charlaine wanted to kiss him, but stopped herself as she caught Pierce rolling his eyes at them. “You are truly a match made in heaven,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I suppose I should’ve seen this coming.”

  Charlaine turned to look at him, watching him closely. “Are you certain you didn’t?”

  He merely shrugged then, and Charlaine could not shake the feeling that all that had happened had not truly come as a surprise for Pierce.

  “Peter would be proud of you,” he told her gently, deep emotions lingering in his eyes. “As am I.”

  “Thank you.” Indeed, these two little words hardly seemed enough, but they had to do for Charlaine knew no others. None that would do justice to the deep joy and peace she felt. After all that had happened, life was good again. She was surrounded by family and friends, people she loved, people she trusted. And now she was to be married to a man who was like no other she had ever met. They were perfect for each other, and they would be as happy as Peter and Amancia had b
een.

  Charlaine was certain of it.

  Epilogue

  Winter 1813, Pembroke Hall (or a variation thereof)

  Roughly Three Months Later

  Pembroke Hall lay buried under heaps of snow. The footmen had labored for hours to free the drive, the front stairs and the inner path curving in a small circle through the gardens. The maids had rushed up and down the stairs, carrying linens and hothouse flowers, readying every available chamber while Cook ruled her kitchen with an iron fist, determined to see everything prepared for the Christmas Ball.

  A first of many to come.

  Gusford, Pembroke Hall’s butler, stood by the front door, his watchful eyes everywhere as guests arrived and were shown inside, welcomed by Becca and Zach, newly-returned from the Continent to enjoy the Christmas season at home.

  Nathanial remembered well how Zach had first spoken of Pembroke Hall as home earlier in the year on Caroline and Pierce’s wedding day. Back then, he had felt excluded, an outsider, one who did not belong.

  Today, everything was different.

  “How is Emmeline?” Nathanial asked his cousin, Eugenie, who had traveled with her husband and one-year-old daughter to Pembroke Hall for the holidays. They stood a little to the side of the dance floor where it was less crowded and the air pleasanter. “How was the journey?”

  A deep smile came to Eugenie’s face, and her gray eyes lit up with happiness. “Oh, she is utterly taken with all the snow. We could barely keep her from flinging herself out the carriage door.”

  Nathanial laughed, remembering Daphne’s and Susan’s round eyes the first morning they had woken to find the world had been dunked in sugar. “They see such joy everywhere they look.”

  Eugenie nodded, her watchful eyes lingering on his face. “You, too, seem utterly happy, Nathanial.” A question swung in her voice. “I was so happy to see you married to such a wonderful woman.” She glanced sideways to where Charlaine was chatting with Caroline and Becca.

  Nathanial sighed, remembering the day Charlaine had become his wife—and she had worn shoes, at least halfway through the ceremony. Thanks to her insistence as well as Pierce’s influence, they had been married only a few days after she had proposed to him. Ever since that day, life had been good.

  Wonderful.

  Perfect.

  “I am happy,” Nathanial told his cousin openly, cherishing the newfound connection to a family he never knew he had. “After Abigail…” He sighed, and Eugenie nodded.

  More than anyone else in the world, his cousin understood what it meant to have one’s life thrown out of balance, to have it altered unexpectedly and in a most painful and frightening manner. For her, too, it had been hard to continue on, to see the silver lining, to not lose faith. But Eugenie had never given up and eventually found happiness in a marriage she had not seen coming after thinking happiness forever out of her reach.

  That was something they had in common, and Nathanial felt a connection every time their eyes met. It was good to be with family again.

  Suddenly, Eugenie’s face paled and she began to sway on her feet.

  Nathanial jumped forward, grabbing her by the elbow to steady her. “Are you all right?” he asked, alarmed. “Do you need to lie down? Or a glass of water? Shall I—?”

  Out of nowhere, Eugenie’s giant of a husband appeared by her side, his scarred face marred with deep concern as he pulled her into his arms. “I shall take you to our chamber.”

  Nathanial stared from Eugenie to Adrian.

  Clinging to her husband’s arm, Eugenie tried to smile at Nathanial, her cheeks still pale. “Do not worry, Nathanial,” she told him with a gentle pat on his arm. “I’m perfectly fine. I’m not ill. I’m merely…” Her voice trailed off, but the glow that came to her eyes spoke volumes.

  Nathanial sighed in relief. “Congratulations! Emmeline will love having a little brother or sister to play with.”

  Eugenie nodded while her husband looked rather impatient. “She ought to lie down,” he said to Nathanial, a warning gleam in his gaze Nathanial understood well. He, too, would worry about Charlaine under these circumstances. As it was, he worried about her in a variety of circumstances.

  “Of course,” Nathanial nodded, escorting them out of the ballroom. “If you need anything, please do not hesitate to call on me.”

  Adrian gave him a quick nod, a note of gratitude in his gaze before he turned to his wife. Without thought for decorum, he swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs.

  Nathanial smiled. Indeed, it seemed the Beast of Ravengrove—as people called him—had been tamed by his darling wife.

  Moving to return to the ballroom, Nathanial paused when footsteps echoed to his ears. He turned to see Miss Glass rushing down the corridor at an alarming speed, her ball gown raised in the front, allowing her to move without tripping. Before Nathanial could avert his gaze, he found that—oddly enough—one of her feet was without a slipper. Had she lost it?

  Not even casting a glance at him, Miss Glass rushed by, then hurried up the stairs to the upper floor, her face slightly flushed.

  “Are you all right?” Nathanial called after her.

  Without a word in reply, she soon vanished from his sight.

  Frowning, Nathanial wondered what to do. While she did not seem harmed in any way, she had seemed shaken. Perhaps he ought to speak to his wife. Charlaine would see to her.

  Returning to the ballroom, Nathanial found that his own darling wife was already waiting for him, pulling him onto the dance floor before he could utter a single word.

  *

  “You’re not wearing shoes, are you?”

  Grinning up at her husband, Charlaine felt her heartbeat quicken as his gaze trailed over her from head to toe, lingering here and there. “You know me too well.”

  Nathanial laughed, leading her into the dance. “Are your feet not freezing? After all, it is not summer any longer. Far from it.”

  Shaking her head, Charlaine sighed. “Not even a little.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” Nathanial commented with that amused, but endearing twinkle in his eyes. Indeed, he knew her well and even though he might not understand or even approve of everything she did, he never sought to force his opinion on her.

  “Are you saying you dislike my little oddities?” she asked teasingly, moving closer as the dance led them back together. Her eyes met his and lingered, whispering of everything they had shared in the short time they had known each other.

  It felt like a lifetime.

  His arms came around her, pulling her against him. “I love each one of them,” he whispered against her lips. “They make you the woman you are. Never ever give them up.” His gaze held hers, and the insistence she saw there warmed her heart.

  After all the heartbreaking losses she had known in her young life, Charlaine finally felt at home, at peace, in love. Although she would forever miss the family she had lost, she knew how fortunate she was to have another one to share in her joy.

  Today was as perfect a day as she could imagine. Not only had Becca and Zach returned in time for the Christmas Ball, but all their friends and family had taken it upon themselves to make the long journey to spend this holiday season with them. Pierce, Caroline and Daphne as well as Emma and Susan had arrived a few days ago. Even Lord Ashhaven as well as Nathanial’s cousin, Eugenie, and her family were in attendance.

  Charlaine inhaled a deep, contented breath, noting the scent of evergreens in the air. It mingled with the smoky aroma of what had to be more than a thousand candles on walls, in candelabras and placed on tables as well as the delicious and utterly tempting smells of pastries.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Nathanial suddenly exclaimed. His eyes sought hers, and the hint of a grin came to his face. “You almost made me forget.”

  “Forget what?” Charlaine asked, enjoying the way he made her feel, like a precious jewel he still could not believe was his.

  Nathanial glanced toward the arched doorway l
eading out into the hall. “I just saw Miss Glass rushing down the corridor and then up the stairs.”

  Charlaine frowned. “I’d wondered where she had gone.”

  Employed as a governess, Emma had never even dared to dream to attend a ball one day, at least not openly. However, Charlaine and Caroline had seen her longing looks when they had both chosen new gowns for the Christmas Ball and decided to play fairy godmother.

  Without Emma’s knowledge, they had procured a stunning gown in the deepest azure Charlaine had ever seen, along with slippers and the jewelry to match. When they had presented their gifts to Emma, she had been speechless and, for a second, Charlaine had been afraid that the young woman would faint. She had stammered something rather unintelligible, shaken her head no as she had backed away from the beautiful gown. Still, the longing in her eyes had been unmistakable.

  And so in the end, despite her objections, Caroline and Charlaine had been able to persuade her to attend. Her eyes had been wide as she had stepped into the ballroom and then…

  Charlaine had been so distracted with assisting Caroline and Becca in greeting new arrivals that she had lost track of Emma. What had happened?

  “I believe she was missing a shoe,” Nathanial added with a cocked eyebrow.

  “A shoe?”

  He nodded.

  Charlaine frowned. “Why would she be missing a shoe?” Indeed, none of this made any sense. Emma had secretly always wanted to attend a ball. Now that she could, why would she disappear for half the evening? “I’ll speak to her.”

  “I believe that would be a good idea,” Nathanial agreed as he spun her in a circle, then suddenly stilled, his gaze directed toward the arched doorway. “Look.”

  Oddly enough, it was none other than Lord Ashhaven who stood in the doorway, his face as expressionless as always, his hair immaculate and his attire without even the whisper of a wrinkle. Still, he stood with his eyes slightly narrowed, his gaze sweeping over the guests in attendance as though he were searching for something…or someone.

  “Is that a shoe in his hands?” Nathanial asked, and Charlaine’s gaze jerked from the man’s face to his hands, half-hidden behind his back.