“I don’t think that I have a very long list.”
“Still,” she pressed, eyebrows knitting together, “I’m sure that there exists a list of some kind. I’d like you to tell me, so that no one gets missed.”
Duncan let out a short laugh, which only served to confuse Charity.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something out of sorts?”
“Not at all,” Duncan said, still smiling.
“Then why did you laugh?”
“Well, for one thing, there is no list. There’s only one person I should like to be there, and that is Malcolm. And for him, I can just hand deliver the invitation myself,” he admitted.
Charity blinked, clearly surprised.
“Is that because... well, do you not have many you wish to invite, or not many available to invite?” she went on to ask. “There’s a distinction between the two.”
“Both,” Duncan said, shrugging casually.
“I assumed there would be others from your acquaintance.”
“I have many acquaintances,” Duncan said. “But I suppose that there are not many that I would consider as friends. I can see that it's a bit strange for you.”
“Not strange,” she said immediately, “I know you have a tendency to keep to yourself, but I just assumed.. well, it’s notas though you are not capable of having many friends. If you wanted, I am sure that there would be a whole group of best friends.”
“You underestimate my liking for company,” he smiled.
“Everyone loves company,” Charity shrugged. “Even if you’re a self-proclaimed recluse.”
Duncan could not help but chuckle at that.
“What about you? On your side,” he asked. “Who are these people you wish to invite?”
“Oh, well,” she said, her expression easing immediately and growing warmer. There was a sparkle in her eyes as she began to speak again, which Duncan found endearing.
She looked down at the list again as if it had become something she was glad to talk about rather than merely a task to be completed.
“I do not have a long list of ladies and families and drawing-room obligations, which I suppose is fortunate, since that would only make this more difficult, but there are a few people I care for deeply, and I want them there if it can be managed.”
“Tell me,” Duncan nodded once.
Charity glanced at him, as though checking whether he truly meant it, then continued when she saw that he did.
“My friends from the nunnery. I shall like for them to be there,” she said. “And of course, their husbands as well.”
Duncan listened without interrupting, and as she kept speaking, he found himself paying less attention to the names and more to her face, to the way she spoke when she was not trying to win an argument or defend herself, and to the way her whole expression changed when she spoke about people she loved.
“And these friends mean a great deal to you?”
Charity looked slightly surprised by his interest, then answered more easily than before.
“We met in the least graceful way possible, which will probably disappoint you if you had imagined something solemn and worthy. I was new, frightened, and trying very hard to appear neither of those things. They saw through me in under a minute.”
Duncan’s mouth shifted very slightly. “I see..”
“During my nunnery days, they were the support I needed to survive,” she admitted.
“So, you need company,” he smiled, turning her comment back on her.
