“Mr. Jenkins!” Walter called from the water’s edge. Alex immediately let go of her hand and created distance between them on the rock. “Can you come here and help me?”
“Oh, yes, just a moment,” he called back.
Charlotte stood, and before he could walk away, she came close to him. “Wait.” She raised her hand to the back of his hair, touching his head and then the back of his collar. “You have something in your hair. A leaf.” She smiled.
“Thank you,” he said. He turned from her and started to Walter. About thirty seconds later she giggled as Alex started grasping at his collar and cravat. “What on earth?” he exclaimed, furiously clawing at his neck. After an agitated little jig, he plucked a worm from somewhere in his shirt and held it dangling between his forefinger and thumb. He turned so only she could see his face. “Really?” he called out.
“That was for the friend you left on my dressing table all those years ago.” She grinned, suppressing another giggle. “I consider us even now.”
He let out a gust of air. “Even.” His smile warmed her just as much as his touch had.
She nodded and let the boys enjoy their time together for a few more minutes before she bent down between the two of them. “I am so sorry, Walter, but I need to return to Mama.”
“Do we have to?” Walter’s face screwed up into a nearly irresistible pout.
“I am afraid so.” She shrugged.
“Well, at least I’ve nearly filled both jars.” Walter smiled his gap-toothed grin down toward his catch.
Alex tousled the boy’s hair. “What if I come to visit just you, Walter, in the afternoon, the day after next. You keep one of those jars unopened until then, and we can let the worms out on the edge of the tree house on the far end of your property. We’ll get the birds to perch directly on the ledge at nearly eye level so you can observe them more closely.”
Walter cocked his head. “How did you know about the tree house?”
It was lucky it still existed, and Alex smiled at his correct guess. “I was around when it was built.”
Charlotte noticed the sad tinge in his eyes, which remained for only a moment before he chased it away. No doubt he was remembering the times he’d had there with Chris.
Walter rubbed his hands together. “Sounds perfect! Joseph and George both tried to come there yesterday, and I didn’t let them in, but I’ll let you.”
“And I shall be waiting,” Alex said. He glanced once more toward Charlotte, his gaze lingering with meaning.
She ought to find a way near that tree house.
They were near the horses, and Alex lifted Walter into the front of the saddle and then extended his hand to Charlotte. She took it, her heart beating fast again as he helped her up behind Walter. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. She thrilled at the extra bit of care he was showing, until she felt something squishy between their fingers.
“Ahh!” she screamed, letting go of his hand and shaking a worm out from between her fingers, nearly losing her balance. “You didn’t.” She glared at him.
“I did,” he replied with a wink.
She shook her head as he acted like nothing had happened and turned to Walter. “Good afternoon, Master Walter. Until I see you again.”
No matter the slimy surprise, she found herself wanting to fall further and further into Alex’s worm-loving, capable hands.
The sensible part of her told her to stop meeting with him entirely.
Her heart told her he was worth the risk.
Chapter 23
“We are simply too busy.”Charlotte’s mother shook her head two days later as she riffled through ink-blotted iterations of menus. “I need you here. Can’t you send a servant into town to check on the musicians?”
Charlotte sighed. “I want the job done well, Mother. The quality of the music will largely determine the guests’ enjoyment.” The deceit pulled at her conscience, but she wanted to see Alex again, and anything short of a clandestine meeting with a nearby eight-year-old as a quasi-chaperone would ruffle too many feathers. It was best her mother did not know. She would help her mother understand all the virtues of Alex Jenkins as soon as her mother wasn’t so preoccupied. Until then she’d think of ways to escape into his company.
Her mother clamped her eyes shut. “Christopher and his guests will be here soon, and we have no time to waste.” Charlotte winced at the thought of her brother’s arrival. “But,” her mother continued, opening her eyes again, “I suppose the musicisimportant. Take Margaret and go by horseback. I cannot spare the carriage, and from what I hear, she’s no help whatsoever around the kitchen.”
“Thank you, Mother. I’ll go check with Cook on the status of the meat order before I go.” She curtsied and left the parlor before allowing a smile to erupt across her face. Triumphant, she strode to the servants’ quarters, talked to the cook as planned, and informed Margaret they would be leaving soon.
“I can’t ride very well, miss,” Margaret hedged.
