Ben stopped in the center of the room. I looked to my left and found Charlie sitting by the window with a book.
Charlie looked up and stood, bowing at Ben and me. I could not catch his eye, so I stepped even with Ben, whose glare was so severe and so pointed, it could have made a lion cower.
“We are guests,” I reminded my brother on a low breath. “You must be civil.”
He sniffed and puffed out his chest, obviously determined to intimidate Charlie. “I think I’ll stand right here and remind him where he belongs.”
Charlie had settled back into the window seat, slouching his shoulders. Instead of reading his book, though, he’d turned a heavy gaze out the window at the last shades of light in the evening sky. My heart could not bear to see him alone and so full of sorrow.
“He is my friend and was once yours,” I said, giving Ben a sidelong glance. “We cannot snub him, unless you wish to upset our parents and the Ollertons over lack of care.”
Ben pressed his lips together.
“With your permission, brother.”
He looked away as Liza’s song slowed. I had to make a choice. Join her at the pianoforte and ensure she had recovered from her fall or join Charlie at the window.
I knew where I wanted to be, but where I wanted was not the same as where I should be. My feet carried me to him anyway. Upon closer inspection, I saw that his right eye was bruised, though not as darkly as the first time I’d met him. And just as Liza had said, there was a fresh cut in his lower lip.
“You are alive,” I said playfully as I drew nearer.
His eyes flicked to mine with surprise. He looked behind me, so I sidestepped to block his view of Ben. Charlie’s lips twitched, and he closed his book and scooted to one side of the window seat.
“Are you certain you wish to tempt fate this evening with my wounds so fresh?” he said in a low voice as I sat down beside him. “I am under strict orders to keep away from you.”
I lowered my voice to a whisper. “What happened after I left?”
Charlie grimaced. “If your brother did not tell you, then I shouldn’t.”
I looked over my shoulder. Ben stood unmoved. Mama and the rest of our company laughed delightedly at something Mr. Ollerton had procured from his pocket.
“What did he say to you?” I asked.
Charlie raised his brows thoughtfully and let out a heavy breath. “More of the same. I’m to never look at you or so much as blink in your direction.”
I looked heavenward and took a long breath through my nose. “You are practically an Ollerton. And we were deathly ill, for heaven’s sake. And far apart.”
“Well,” Charlie started with a remorseful look, rubbing the back of his neck.
“What?” I narrowed my eyes.
His smile was warm, but hesitant. The kind a mother gives her favorite obstinate child. “You like to roll around in your sleep.” He bit his lip. “You stole my pillow.”
Hiswhat? “I did not.”
Oh, but I had. That split second before Ben’s voice rumbled in the air, I’d awoken on a pillow that was not my own. I covered my mouth with a hand. My neck, my face, my ears all heated.
Charlie laughed with that same hesitancy and looked strangely at me, in a familiar sort of way. A way that made my heart stir.
His cheeks pinked, and he suppressed a smile, looking down at his hands. “That is, after I convinced you that my pillow was more comfortable than my arm.”
My jaw went slack, and I shook my head slowly, unthinkingly. Me, asleep on Charlie’s arm?
This time I buried my face into both of my hands. I would never move from this spot. And no one would ever see my face again.
“I do not think your brother had arrived yet. I’m quite certain I’d be dead if he had.” His voice turned serious, but I could not be sure. I would never know because I would never look at him again.
I breathed in and out of my nose, utterly and completely burning with mortification. What must Charlie think of me? A wanton woman quite literally accosting him.
