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She hesitated. “‘Sea of bitterness.’”

He stifled a chuckle. “I can see why you prefer the former.”

“Hmm,” she mumbled. “I suppose you will be inclined to tease me about that now.”

“No,” he said, leading her down the lane with an easy stride. “I haven’t a leg to stand on when it comes to the meaning of names.”

“Why? What does yours mean?”

“You’ll find it quite ironic. Charles means, ‘free man.’”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “That is ironic. It would appear that your parents have been duping you all along.”

He laughed. “Indeed, they have. Although, Tristan’s name means ‘sad,’ and they couldn’t have chosen a word less fitting for my brother.”

“Do you two get along well?” she asked.

“Better than well. We spent every day together as children and visit as often as we can now we are adults. It is difficult being away from each other when we are, but I suppose we all have to grow up someday.” He gave a small smile. “Well, I had to grow up. I may be older, but Tristan was always the more steady and mature of the two of us.”

“I should like to see you both together one day,” she said. “See how you measure up.”

He chuckled, those smile lines around his lips and eyes that she’d seen hinted at over the last couple of days finally apparent.

“I don’t know how I feel about you two coming together now,” he said. “You might swiftly discover you married the wrong brother.”

Marie doubted she could ever think such a thing, for the Charles Mrs. Shepherd had promised had finally arrived, and an annulment from the gentleman was becoming less and less appealing.

The following morning, instead of lingering in her room or gawking at Charles from the window—again—Marie made the deliberate decision to leave her room for breakfast.

She knew very likely that Charles would not be there, as he would no doubt be on his usual morning walk. But when she arrived in the dining area, she spotted him already seated at the breakfast table—and fully dressed, which she found only marginally disappointing.

Had he chosen to remain indoors due to their conversation yesterday? Warmth stirred in her center.

As her footsteps softly padded into the room, Charles looked up from his plate in surprise, then stood. “I didn’t expect to see you this morning. Are you to join me for breakfast?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Of course.” He waited for her to sit down before taking his seat, as well. His eyes lingered on her as she placed her napkin across her lap. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” she replied. “And you?”

“As well as I have been able to on that miniscule bed.”

She thanked the footman as he placed a cup of tea before her. She felt Charles’s eyes on her still as she stirred a cube of sugar into the steaming liquid.

Was he waiting for eye contact? She could look up at him...but she rather liked his attention being fixed on her. She didn’t want a glance from her to end it prematurely.

Thunder boomed outside, and she nearly started at the unexpected sound. She hadn’t even been aware of a storm raging outside, despite the plinking of rain against the glass.

Charles’s attention finally shifted from her to the window.

That was why he was indoors. Because of the rain. Not because of her.

She chided her false hope and pulled her declining spirits back up. She shouldn’t be wanting such things anyway.

“No walk today, then?” she asked.

“Not in this downpour.” He seemed distracted for a moment, then faced her, his shoulders squaring. “But I’m sure we can find something here with which to occupy our attentions.”