Almost to his horse, he cleared his throat. “Excuse me. You—”
She raised her head and met his gaze.
He stopped and stared at her. “Charlotte?” His voice softened; his anger dissipated. “I mean, are you... ? You must be... Miss Roylance.”
His unpolished delivery made her smile. “Yes, I am.”
“Forgive me for not recognizing you back on the road. Now, without your hat, I see. I am Alexan—”
“I know who you are. I knew it from the moment I saw you.Youare not so much changed.”
“Or perhaps it is that you aren’t as daft as I am.” A smile spread across his face, its long-missed familiarity sending warmth through Charlotte as she laughed. The man had been gone nine years, and still he managed to make her chuckle within moments of speaking to her.
A thousand questions raced through her mind about him and his past, but it wasn’t her place to ask them. Before she could formulate any other words, he broke into her thoughts. “I remember you despising horses.” One eyebrow lifted in question. “Weren’t you afraid of them?”
She felt her cheeks color and wasn’t sure if the feeling stemmed from embarrassment or the fact that hedidremember something about her.
“Yes, well, I had a brother and a certain friend who ridiculed me mercilessly.” A grin pulled at her warm cheek. “After you disappeared”—she saw his eyes darken and immediately wished she’d used a different word—“I... determined to learn.” She glanced down at the hay-strewn ground. “You’ve missed a great deal over the years.”But I am glad I’ve seen you.She didn’t dare add that thought aloud.
From across the wide lawn, the back door rattled against the stone frame of the castle. “I told you to leave!” her brother yelled, staring down the long distance to the stables. “And what on earth are you doing out here, Charlotte? I forbid you from talking to this man.”
A twisting, tightening jolt spread throughout Charlotte’s body. She knew Christopher’s position, but something inside of her resisted. Shewantedto befriend Alex.
She caught Alex’s gaze and dropped her voice low. “I am sorry for his behavior. There are differences between our families, but I don’t see why he insists on hating you.” Her gaze shot toward her brother, who was approaching too quickly. With one bold inhale, she whispered, “My sentiment from those years ago still stands. I think you should stay.”
Alex’s brow twitched, and for one moment, he froze. Then he turned toward Christopher, noted his countenance, and spoke firmly, his eyes defiant. “Your sister simply had thedecencyto say hello after her ride. But don’t worry; I am leaving posthaste.”
A groom handed Alex his horse’s reins, and as Alex swung his leg over the animal, he glanced at Charlotte. He had protected her with his response to Christopher. In a gentler, softer voice he managed, “Thank you, Char—Miss Roylance. I wish you a good day.”
He donned his hat, whipped his horse round, and bolted down the road.
Chapter 3
Two days later Charlotte curtsiedto take her leave of Mrs. Rebekah Laurence and her husband in the front room of Alnwick’s vicarage. “As usual, such a pleasure to take tea with you, Rebekah.”
“Likewise. You are always welcome,” Rebekah replied. She was a pleasant-looking blonde woman, plump and kind and not more than two years older than Charlotte’s twenty-one. They had been friends as girls, as some of the more elite members of Society. After Rebekah’s long Season with her family trying for an advantageous match, she had fallen for the vicar in town, and her family had finally agreed to the marriage. Charlotte knew her own family would never be so accommodating.
Christopher’s volatile anger had reared its head every time he’d spoken with Charlotte ever since she had acknowledged Alex. Coming to the vicarage for a reprieve had been intentional. She enjoyed Rebekah’s company more than that of any other female, despite their different seasons of life.
“I do so enjoy our conversations, especially as of late,” Rebekah continued. “Your research on the different types of bagpipes is fascinating.”
“No more fascinating than yours on the style of local dancing.”
“Thank you.” Rebekah smiled, placing a delicate hand on her abdomen. She turned toward her husband. “You approve, don’t you, of our little project?”
The vicar nodded. It was clear how much Rebekah admired him. He was quite young to be given the vicarage of Alnwick, and a bit of humble pride always shone in the man’s face on that account. He appraised his wife. “The information you and Miss Roylance collect will no doubt preserve the history of the Northumbrian way of life for years to come. I find it such a rich culture. How noble to record its unique components, which are so different from the traditions of Town.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Charlotte sighed.
“There was one other matter I wished to mention in private before you go,” Rebekah said, standing up with Charlotte and ushering her to the door.
“Good day.” Charlotte nodded to the vicar, who stood and bowed.
Rebekah pressed both hands against her stomach. “I have some good news I wish to share.”
Charlotte listened as Rebekah gave details, her own suspicions of her friend being with child now officially confirmed. “I’m so happy for you both,” Charlotte answered with a squeeze of Rebekah’s hand. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you or to prepare for the baby.”
“Thank you,” Rebekah replied.
