“You do not have to,” I muttered. Burying treasure was silly, really. But it was on the list. “You dug the hole for me, after all.”
“Ben added a flower,” Liza prompted.
I shot her a warning glance. Something told me not to press Charlie.
Without a word, he slowly unwound the red-and-gold-spotted cravat from around his neck. “I shall add this.”
“But you wear that all the time,” I argued. He would miss it. “You can add anything. A stick from the grove. A rock from the pond.” Anything that might remind him of our time together.
“This is my favorite neckcloth,” he told me as he folded it. “It’s called a Belcher, inspired by James Belcher, a famous pugilist who gave everything to improving his craft and helping others succeed. I respect and admire him. Much like I respect and admire you.”
He held the cloth out to me, a piece of him that he wanted me to have, while willfully refusing to meet my eyes. Our fingers brushed as I took the folded neckcloth from his hand, and I felt Liza’s stare measuring my reaction. Carefully, I laid it atop the other treasures. My little box had grown infinitely more valuable.
“Thank you,” I said. But it wasn’t enough. I wished I could embrace him and tell him exactly what he meant to me. I wished I could pull his hand back to my face and let it linger there along with his gaze and his unspoken thoughts.
Myownthoughts were turning decidedly less friendly and decidedly more something else. Liza’s question about my feelings for Charlie crept into my thoughts, but I squeezed it out just as quickly.
“It’s getting late,” Charlie said to Ben. “Shall we resume tomorrow morning?”
“Very well,” Ben practically whined.
Charlie was abandoning the grove? Without complaint? “Certainly we could find some sort of adventure to occupy our afternoon,” I countered.
“Notthisafternoon,” Charlie said. “I shall grab the satchels.”
“I can get mine,” Ben added, following Charlie into the grove.
“Do not take it personally, Ros. Charlie is still angry about this morning,” Liza said, sinking with me to her knees as the men disappeared behind the trees.
“What happened this morning?” Something must have made him miss his usual early-morning lesson with Ben, which explained why they were out so late in the day. With my bare hand, I carefully placed my closed box into the hole Charlie had dug.
“He got a letter from his mother.” She handed me the spade. “They are reinstating his funds and letting him live in a separate house nearby. They also promised not to interfere in his hobbies, but only if he comes round and engages in part-time work on the estate.”
My heart stopped beating and fell into my stomach. Charlie was leaving. “Now?”
“He may leave at first light. But he refuses.”
Sudden relief blew through me. But I should not be relieved. I should be upset. Home is where he needed to be. Where he should be.
I scooped the dirt and covered the box. “Why would he refuse?”
She shrugged. “Charlie was not keen on discussing it further. Papa lectured him on honor and duty and told him that regardless of his feelings, he needed to step into his role for the sake of his family.”
I gave up on the spade and pushed the cool dirt into the hole with my hands. “What did Charlie say to that?”
“I should not repeat it.”
I could all too easily imagine his lips set in a line and the conflicted crease along his brow. I tried not to think on his response.
We filled the hole and replanted the flowers, and when we were finished, no one would have guessed a treasure was buried beneath.
Liza let out a heavy sigh. “He knows what he needs to do. And I imagine it is hard. He loved Henry so much.”
“Perhaps he needs a few days to mull it over.” I replaced my glove on my hand.
“Ros, he’s had plenty of time to mull things over.” Liza tilted her head as we stood and dusted off our skirts.
“He’ll come round,” I said. “I know he will.”
