How to Turn a Frog into a Prince - Bree Wolf Page 0,118

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