How to Turn a Frog into a Prince - Bree Wolf Page 0,39
see you.”
His gaze remained on hers as he inhaled a slow breath, clearly overcome by her words.
“Does that shock you?” Charlaine asked with a grin. The dear man was so easily shocked!
Trying to hide a smile, he nodded. “I’m afraid it does. Few people express themselves in such a…frank manner.”
Indeed, Charlaine doubted it was her frank manner that had shocked him, but rather that which she had expressed. For a reason Charlaine could not fathom, Nathanial could not seem to accept that someone—anyone—would value his company, would long to see him, would feel saddened when he was not there. It would seem his former fiancée had broken him in more ways than one.
“Well, I promised you brutal honesty, did I not?” she asked him with a grin as they ventured off the terrace and proceeded down into the gardens.
Nathanial chuckled. “Did you not define brutal honesty as speaking the truth even when it hurts?” He eyed her carefully.
Charlaine nodded. “Well, revealing one’s affections for another makes one vulnerable, does it not?” She held his gaze, seeing with perfect clarity that he understood, that he, too, had been hurt because of it. After all, love brought the risk of loss.
Remembering the loss of her family, Charlaine looked up at him, her hand tightening upon his arm. “Don’t hurt me,” she pleaded, knowing that she would have to offer trust in order to receive it.
Nathanial swallowed hard, his gaze betraying the deep emotions that lived hidden within. Then his other hand rose and gently settled on hers. “I won’t,” he promised her. “Not ever.”
Charlaine smiled at him. “I knew I chose wisely.”
The serious look in his blue gaze vanished, and he chuckled. “Indeed, no one can deny that it was your choice.”
“We all make choices,” Charlaine told him. “All the time. We can only ever hope that they’ll be good for us.” She held his gaze. “You chose to come here today.”
Nathanial nodded.
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
“Then that was a good choice as well.”
Slowly, his head bobbed up and down.
Over his shoulder, Charlaine glimpsed Daphne and Susan headed their way, their faces flushed and their eyes wide with excitement. “I believe another choice will be upon us in a matter of seconds.”
Frowning, Nathanial turned to follow her gaze.
“Charlaine!” Daphne exclaimed, panting as she glanced over her shoulder at Susan, equally out of breath.
Charlaine laughed. “Who are you two running from?”
Pulling to a halt at their feet, the girls looked at Nathanial with curiosity. “Who are you?” Daphne asked, looking him up and down. “Are you Charlaine’s friend?”
Charlaine could feel the muscles in Nathanial’s arm tense. For a second, he glanced at her before looking back at the girls. “I…suppose I am.”
“You suppose?” Daphne asked with a frown. “You don’t sound very certain.”
Susan giggled, then pulled on Daphne’s arm and whispered something in her ear.
Again, Nathanial turned back to her. “Who are…?” His brows rose before he glanced at the two girls.
Charlaine laughed. “Ladies, may I introduce my dear friend, Nathanial Caswell. Nathanial, these are Daphne, Pierce’s daughter, and Susan, Emma’s daughter.”
Again, he frowned. “Emma?”
“The governess,” Daphne supplied helpfully with another wary-looking glance over her shoulder. “Miss Glass.”
Nathanial’s eyes widened ever so slightly before he leaned closer once again. “Pierce hired a governess who has a child?”
Knowing that old habits died hard, Charlaine met Nathanial’s gaze with a challenging one of her own. “Is there any reason why he shouldn’t have?”
His gaze narrowed, and she could see his mind churn. Then he sighed and shook his head, the hint of a smile upon his face. “None I can think of.”
Charlaine could have hugged him. “Now, about you two,” she said turning back to the girls. “Who are you running from?”
“My mother,” Susan answered without hesitation.
“Why?”
Daphne made a face. “Because she wants us to change, but those fancy dresses itch.”
Charlaine laughed as she looked at the two rather forlorn-looking girls. “Did you try them on?”
“No,” Susan admitted openly, which earned her an elbow-jab from Daphne.
“Then how can you know they itch?” Charlaine inquired.
Daphne sighed rather theatrically. “Fine, they don’t itch, but they look ugly.”
“And Mother says if we don’t change, we can’t have cake,” Susan exclaimed, her little arms gesturing wildly toward the terrace.
Charlaine nodded. “That is a problem.” Noting the way Nathanial stood rather stock-still beside her, she asked him, “What do you think?”
Clearly shocked, he stared at her, his mouth opening, then closing. “I…don’t…well…”
“We want cake,” Daphne stated vehemently, “but we don’t want to wear those dresses.”