Never had Charlaine spoken to another about losing her family.
Only Peter.
After their loss, they had clung to one another, desperate to have someone who understood, who gave them a reason to rise in the morning, to go on. “He died a little over a year ago,” Charlaine said, seeing the anguish on Nathanial’s face. He felt for her, and it hurt him to hear of her loss. Charlaine, too, disliked to see him saddened, to know that her words had brought sorrow to his heart. Still, she could not deny that sharing her pain with him felt good as well.
Soothing like the soft summer breeze drifting across the lake.
“He survived the sickness?” Nathanial asked, disbelief strengthening his voice.
Charlaine snorted. “Life does not always do what you expect,” she told him, knowing it was a lesson she would never forget. “It twists and turns in its own way. Despite everything, Peter lived.” Remembering his mischievous grin, Charlaine smiled. “He always said that there’d been a reason why he’d survived. But it wasn’t until years later, on the day he ultimately lost his battle with Fate, that he told me what that reason was.” Her vision blurred, and a thick lump settled in her throat as she remembered the last time Peter had looked at her, the mischief always lurking in his eyes never dimming. “He said it had been so he could hold my hand for as long as I needed him to, but now it was time for me to stand on my own. He told me I would be all right.” Wiping away her tears, Charlaine tried to smile. “And he was right.” She nodded, wishing Peter had not had to die to prove his point. “I don’t need him any longer, but I miss him all the same.”
Sadness stood in Nathanial’s eyes as he reached out a hand to place upon her own. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
“I am, too, but Peter taught me to look ahead, not back.” She remembered well the way Peter had always lived in the moment, enjoying life with every fiber of his being, knowing that tomorrow might never come for him. “He taught me to take the good with the bad. We cannot know what will happen tomorrow. We cannot know why we were set on a path. But we have to believe that there is good everywhere, that we can be happy again.” She smiled at him. “Hope is never lost. It travels with us wherever we go.” Her other hand settled on his. “It led me to you.”
Nathanial stilled at her words, but she could see that their meaning was not lost on him. The muscle in his jaw twitched almost furiously, whispering of a deep emotion lingering beneath his stoic exterior. One he could not admit to.
Not yet.
“Tell me about Abigail,” Charlaine said, curious to learn more about the man he had once been. The man she was beginning to see once again in the one before her. How had he lost himself? What had happened?
His jaw tightened, and reluctance stood in his guarded eyes. Still, he did not turn away. He did not run and hide. He held her gaze. “There’s not much to tell,” he finally said, and she could feel his hand wanting to slip from hers.
Charlaine held on though.
Sighing, Nathanial hung his head in defeat. “We knew each other for a long time before…I asked for her hand.”
“Were you in love?” Charlaine asked, knowing that it had been so. But was he still? Was it a question she dare ask?
“Of course.” A touch of incredulity came to his eyes.
Charlaine smiled at him. “Few people marry for love. You know that as well as I do.”
He nodded. “You’re right, but…but we…” a slight frown came to his face, “we were.” He did not sound convinced though. “At least, I was, I think.”
“What happened?” Now, it was Charlaine’s turn to ask, and his to answer.
Again, the muscle in his jaw twitched. His teeth ground together, and she could feel his hand tightening on hers. “A Lord Mortimer came to Boston,” he forced out. “He flirted with every woman who dared look at him, but in a way that they all thought he had singled them out to be his lady.” A long sigh left his lips. “Abigail was merely one of them.”
“She betrayed you,” Charlaine said so he would not have to. “She broke your engagement and…?” She frowned. “Is she here now? In England? Married to that lord?”
Nathanial shook his head. “The man never had honorable intentions toward her, toward any of the women he courted. He toyed with them and then cast them aside. Then he left Boston.”
Charlaine tried to picture the woman named Abigail, who had thought a rakish lord would be more desirable than a true and kind gentleman like Nathanial. She had to have been blind not to see his worth, not to realize how fortunate she had been to claim his heart for herself. “Did you see him?” Charlaine asked then. “This Lord Mortimer?”
Nathanial scoffed. “It seems the man was killed in a duel about a year ago.”
“He was?” Charlaine stared at him. “What happened?”
“I’m not certain. Zach said another lord called him out because he believed Lord Mortimer to have had…” He stopped, his gaze hesitant as he regarded her.
Charlaine laughed, amused by his attempt to shield her from the harshness of the world. “To have had an affair with his wife,” she finished for him.
Nathanial nodded.
“What about Abigail?”
“What about her?” he asked, and that muscle in his jaw twitched again.
“Have you spoken to her since?” Charlaine inquired. “Did she apologize for betraying you?”
“She did.” Sitting back, he pulled his hand from her grasp, then rubbed them both over his face, an exhausted huff leaving his lips. “Her apology was halfhearted at best. She was crying for herself, not for…” He met her gaze. “Her father sought me out later and suggested we could still proceed with…”
Shock chased a shiver down her spine. “He asked you to marry her?” she gasped. “After…?” Shaking her head, Charlaine placed a hand on his arm for comfort. “I’m glad you told him no. You deserve better, Nathanial.”
He swallowed. “Do I?”
Charlaine had half-expected this question. “Of course, you do,” she said vehemently, determined to fight the doubts that lingered in his mind and heart. “Aside from your brother, I like to believe that I’m the person who knows you best. I’m your friend, and I know the good man you are. You deserve better than Abigail. You deserve someone extraordinary. You deserve,” she grinned, “a princess!”
Nathanial laughed, an enchanting tinge of red darkening his face.
“Let’s go,” Charlaine said, then pushed to her feet, holding out her hand to help Nathanial up.
After a moment of hesitation, he took it. “Go where?”
“To catch you a frog.”
“Pardon me?” A deep frown came to his face.
“We’ll go and catch you a frog,” Charlaine told him, half-dragging him behind her as she proceeded along the water’s edge. “If it works for princes, why shouldn’t it work for princesses as well? We’ll find you a good one. I promise.”
With a tug, Nathanial spun her back around, catching her as she came all but sailing toward him. His arms closed around her as his gaze sought hers. “You’re extraordinary,” he whispered, awe in his voice. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Never.”
Touched by his words, Charlaine felt tears pricking the backs of her eyes. “I’m your friend,” she told him, willing them away, “and as your friend, it falls to me to protect you.”
The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. “To protect me?”
Charlaine nodded. “Yes, and I take it very seriously.” She stepped out of his embrace and once more took his hand. “Now, don’t dally and come along. We have a frog to catch and a princess to find.”
Laughing, Nathanial followed without another word of objection, and Charlaine could not help but wonder at the odd fluttering in her stomach.
Perhaps it was from the heat.
Perhaps not.