They passed under a low hanging willow tree and the branches brushed the tops of their heads. Dry gravel crunched underfoot. The sky was alight with morning sunshine and the rise and fall of birdsong. It had the makings of a beautiful day.
She was strange. Making her cross had easily become one of his favorite pastimes. When she became frazzled, her body got all rigid and her nose wrinkled up. It was funny, maybe a little cute even. He might have stopped being so hard on her if she didn’t seem to enjoy having something to be indignant about. If not for him, what would she be aggravated by this season?
“Well,” he took a deep breath. “I was not lying. I am not a rake. I have not often allowed myself to get carried away like that, and never with someone I did not have a romantic attachment to.”
For the first time, she didn’t have a reply at the ready, she just continued walking, the tip of her nose as peachy as it usually was. She watched as a group of sparrows flew by.
“Your um…” he coughed, stalling to collect his thoughts. “You lost your father—”
“Yes,” she interrupted him so that he wouldn't remind her of his passing. “Four years ago, I think.”
“You were close?”
Charlotte blinked, looking away from him quickly and pausing in her walk. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I find myself curious about you,” he replied.
“Mm,” she nodded. “That’s…generous.” She eyed him dubiously but pulled him back to continue their promenade. “As insurance, you must allow me to ask you such questions.”
“That is fair.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Yes, we were close. Not many ladies are lucky enough to have parents who support her plans to never marry. My mother disliked the notion, but papa would have done anything for me. He convinced her that I should live however I wish.”
“Your mother is more like your sister than she is like you,” he observed.
“If you met my papa you would understand where all my personality comes from. He was…” she shrugged. “Eccentric? Passionate? Stubborn? He was everything I wanted to be.”
William smiled. It was sweet. Just from the way she held herself when she recalled her father was telling enough about how much she admired and cherished him. William had great parents, but he’d never had a relationship like that. She was turning out to be rare—the kind of person he didn’t see himself soon forgetting. “I am sure he is proud of you.”
Charlotte ignored him, but it was clear she was only doing so because the compliment had made her embarrassed. “So tell me about your broken heart, Lord Holdford.”
He laughed nervously. “Really? That is what you want to ask?”
“Really,” she assured him.
With a deep breath, William dredged up some of his darkest memories as of late but only because he had made her a promise. “Her name was Octavia. She simply grew bored of me.”
“What do you meanbored?”
“I think just as you put it before. She had her fill and then,” he shrugged. “She was on her way without much explanation or closure.”
“Oh dear,” Charlotte whispered. “Really, I did not mean that. I was lying through my teeth. I found it very enjoyable, indeed. I would respond to another positively.”
“Do you lie a lot, Lady Charlotte?”
“Not at all,” she said. It was clear she was lying.
“That is very generous of you, but it is okay. I think I have come to terms with that. Maybe one day I will be lucky to find a woman who never tires of my company.”
“You will,” she said matter-of-factly. It was so simple the way she’d said it, like it was obvious that it would happen. For someone who was often so quick to say something brassy, the fact that she didn’t meant a lot. “I was not being generous, I assure you. I will only admit that I meant it because you are rather vulnerable right now. Next time I will not be so honest.”
William laughed, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes. “You will be sure to leave me guessing next time?”
“Absolutely. I have come to believe that that is the way you prefer it.”
William nodded, biting his cheek because his heart was light in a way it hadn’t been for some time. He took a deep breath, unsure of why it felt so easy to talk all of a sudden. “I had thought that we were going to make it,” he said. “I thought that we would be married and that maybe in a year or so we would have a child or two running about the house. You know, that I would have a proper house. But here I am,” he said. “I am twenty-six and right back at the starting line.”
“That is not so bad. Part of the fun is winning the race, hm?” she asked. “I think…” she paused, looking uncomfortable with what she was about to say. “Part of the fun of courting is when you meet someone new and they make you feel all—”