“First you gave him a pet name, and now you are calling him Neville?” Clementine demanded.
“Must you belabor the point, Tiny?” she groused.
“Olive was right,” Melanie crowed.
“Ye are in love with Lord Wilton.”
She frowned at Raina. “I amnotin love with him.”
“Is that so? Just what was it the two of ye were doing in yer chamber?” her friend countered, raising a copper-colored brow. “And if ye try to tell me ye were reciting Biblical verses, I’ll box yer ears.”
“I cannot believe it,” Clementine exclaimed. “Lord Wilton has compromised you.”
“Not so staid after all, is he?” Melanie asked slyly.
Of course her friend would have to remind her ofthatconversation.
“He did not compromise me,” she denied. “No one knows he was in my chamber.”
Except for her friends.
“Except for us,” Raina pointed out as if she had read Charity’s thoughts.
“But you know your secret is safe with us, darling,” Clementine said, patting her arm.
“Everyone knows it only matters if you arecaught,” Melanie agreed.
“Fortunately, I was not caught.” She forced a bright smile, trying not to think about the way Neville had brought her body to life. Ignoring the yearning for him that had not dimmed, much to her dismay, in the wake of their shared passion, but had instead grown exponentially.
“Why are you so Friday-faced then?” Clementine asked.
“It isnae like ye to lose at badminton,” said Raina.
“Well, Clementine and Idomake an excellent team,” Melanie offered to Raina, shrugging.
“Nonsense! We would have won if Charity hadnae stood there like a tree, pining over Wilton,” Raina argued.
“That was a clever pun,” Charity said.
Three sets of eyes swung to her.
“Standing there, pining like a tree. A pine tree,” she explained. “Quite humorous.”
“Since when do you think puns are funny?” Clementine demanded.
Since Neville had made her laugh with them.
She liked his nervous jokes. She likedhim.
The realization she had been doing her utmost to avoid ever since she had risen that morning hit her with the force of a boulder barreling down a mountainside.
She did not just like Neville.
Shelovedhim.
“Do you know who else seems to be amused by such things?” Melanie asked. “Viscount Wilton. He told me the most dreadful joke about a fishing rod when we made small talk at the pond.”
Charity wondered what it would have been and then decided she would ask him.
