How to Turn a Frog into a Prince - Bree Wolf Page 0,57

upon her face. “I’m a lady of many talents,” she said, then turned and pointed at the net, her eyes looking at Nathanial. “You dropped it.”

With annoyance darkening his face, Nathanial picked it up. “Perhaps you would like a turn. I am clearly no good a catching frogs.”

Daphne’s little face lit up and she rushed forward, her hands eagerly reaching for the handle.

“Me, too! Me, too!” Susan shouted, waving her arms to make herself heard.

“You’ll have to wait your turn,” Daphne told her with a bit of a haughty expression upon her face as she took the net from Nathanial. “Watch how I do it.”

As the girls began to sneak along the bank of the lake, Nathanial walked over to where Charlaine rested near a cluster of trees, his face flushed and his mood nowhere near cheerful. When he reached her side, he looked down at her, sitting cross-legged in the grass, the expression on his face one of indecision.

“Sit,” Charlaine ordered, reaching up and tugging on his hand.

Nathanial gritted his teeth. “Perhaps I—”

“Sit!” Charlaine exclaimed with more force and her next tug saw him dropping into the grass beside her. “There. Doesn’t that feel better?”

Nathanial looked skeptical, to say the least. His gaze remained on his dirt-stained boots as a long sigh escaped him.

“I told you you should have taken them off.”

He turned to look at her. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Grinning, Charlaine nodded. “You cannot truly fault me for it. If you could see yourself, you’d be amused as well.”

His gaze narrowed, however, Charlaine thought she saw the desire to laugh with her, to laugh about himself, to make light of this as much as she did lurk in his eyes. “You truly enjoy this,” he whispered, his arms gesturing to encompass the lake, the gardens, the moment she had pushed him into.

“I think you did, too, once.”

His gaze held hers, and then he slowly nodded. “That was long ago.”

Snuggling closer, Charlaine slipped her arm through his and then rested her head upon his shoulder. “Today is today. Let’s not worry about tomorrow.” She smiled up at him. “Let alone yesterday.”

He smiled back at her, and she felt his shoulders relax as he inhaled a deep breath.

Together, they sat in the grass and watched as Daphne and Susan stalked along the water’s edge, their hems lifted—but soaked in spite of their efforts—and their faces scrunched up in concentration as they scanned the ground.

“Aren’t frogs nocturnal?” Nathanial asked into the soft stillness that hung over the lake.

Charlaine chuckled. “Yes.”

Smirking, Nathanial looked down at her. “Should we not tell them?”

“Why? They’re having fun.”

“But they’ll never catch a frog like this.”

Charlaine grinned. “Did you truly think they were ever going to catch one?” She arched her brows.

Laughing, Nathanial shook his head. “Then what are we doing here?”

“This is not about accomplishing a task,” she told him, looking at the girls whispering back and forth, their eyes aglow as they waded through the water. “This is about living in the moment, about feeling your heart beat faster, about feeling the sun warm your skin, about…” She sighed, remembering the long beach where she had played as a child.

“About enjoying oneself,” Nathanial finished for her.

Charlaine looked up at him, surprised. “You may not be a lost cause after all, Mr. Caswell.”

Nathanial chuckled. “How kind of you to notice.”

The day passed quickly and pleasantly but, as expected, they returned to the house with empty hands. However, not even Daphne and Susan were disheartened by their lack of success. Instead, new plans were made for the next day.

And the one after that.

And the one after that.

And…

While Nathanial tried his best to keep his boots clean and his breeches and shirt from soaking through, he slowly came to realize that he was fighting a losing battle. With every day that passed, his attempts became less determined. His eyes were no longer glued to the tips of his boots in concern, but rested on the girls as they splashed through the water, a wide smile upon his face.

Charlaine loved to watch his transformation for it was only too obvious that he longed to break free of this persona he thought he needed to be.

And then one day it happened.

Daphne and Susan were once again wading through the water, the net leaning long-since forgotten against a tree trunk, when Charlaine almost slipped on a smooth rock below the surface and lost her footing. Her heart jumped into her throat a moment before two warm hands settled upon her