How to Turn a Frog into a Prince - Bree Wolf Page 0,17

had ever truly cared about him, and now, after Abigail, Nathanial could not help but wonder if there was something…deficient about him.

Was there something wrong with him?

Or was it the world? Could it simply not be trusted?

Sighing, Nathanial almost flinched when Miss Palmer’s dark brown gaze collided with his own as she looked over her shoulder and found him watching her. Quickly, he dropped his gaze and spun back around, his eyes fixed on the green bushes a bit away. Indeed, a much safer image to observe.

I’ve decided to be that friend for you.

Her words echoed in his mind for they were the strangest words Nathanial had ever heard. People didn’t walk up to people they had never met before and declare themselves their friend, did they? Indeed, Miss Palmer appeared to be a most peculiar woman. In all likelihood, it would be best for him to keep his distance from her.

Still, a part of him knew very well that she was right. He needed a friend.

Desperately.

But her?

Nathanial sighed. In all likelihood, her words had been meant as a jest, a tease or had simply been said in a spur of the moment. In all likelihood, he would never see her again.

Nathanial was certain of it.

Chapter Eight

As Fate Would Have It…

“Promise me, you’ll stay,” Zach insisted, his hands a comforting weight upon Nathanial’s shoulders as he looked him in the eyes. “Promise me, you’ll not return to Boston just yet.”

Reading the concern in his brother’s voice, Nathanial nodded. “Very well. I promise.”

A relieved smile came to Zach’s face and he took a step back, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath. “I want you to be happy, and I truly believe that a fresh start would do you good.” A deep grin claimed his features as Becca entered the drawing room. “It’s done wonders for me.”

His wife’s green eyes glowed like emeralds as she took Zach’s outstretched hand and came to stand by his side. “Has he agreed?” she asked, then looked at Nathanial. “Are you staying?”

Clearing his throat, Nathanial nodded. “I am.” The words sounded hollow as he fought the urge to drop his gaze to the emerald ring upon his sister-in-law’s finger. It always drew his attention no matter how hard he tried to keep it fixed elsewhere. It felt like a voice deep within, whispering taunting words and drawing forth memories that twisted the knife still embedded in his heart in a most painful way. Would he never be able to rid himself of this anger? This bitterness? Or was this simply the man he was now?

“When are you leaving?” Nathanial asked in order to distract himself.

Becca smiled, utter joy dancing in her luminous eyes. “In a matter of days.” Her hands gripped her husband’s arm in eagerness. “I cannot wait.”

Zach laughed. “Neither can I.”

Nathanial felt his stomach roll, wishing he had foregone breakfast that morning. “What do you suggest I do in your absence?” he asked before the next wave of nausea could hit him. “Is there anything I can take care of? Any remodeling to oversee? Any plans to—?”

“Nothing of the kind,” Zach replied with a scoff. “You’re not here to work, Brother. You’re here to enjoy yourself.”

“Enjoy myself?” Nathanial echoed, no longer certain he knew what these words meant.

His brother laughed upon seeing a somewhat confused expression claim Nathanial’s features. “You’ve forgotten how to enjoy yourself?” He shook his head in disapproval, then exchanged one of those annoyingly meaningful glances with his wife. “I thought you might have and so I spoke to Lord Markham and asked him to show you around London.” Nathanial opened his mouth to object, but his brother pushed on. “He is a good friend of mine, someone I trust completely. He may go about certain things in a rather unusual way, but he’s always been there when I needed him.”

At his brother’s words of praise, Nathanial tried to force an appreciative smile upon his face. Inside, however, he felt like putting his fist through Lord Markham’s face. Never in his life had Nathanial felt this kind of anger that now so often sought him out. Still, it was the knowledge that he was easily replaced in every capacity, as a fiancé, a friend, a brother.

Perhaps it was not the world that was wrong. Perhaps it was truly simply him.

*

A week had passed since the Pembroke’s wedding celebration, and Charlaine wondered how best to seek out Mr. Caswell. Or rather Nathanial. After all, friends should call each other