With a delighted giggle, she grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him through the garden. Alexander staggered after her, feeling lighter—happier—than he had done in months. Maybe even years. And it was all thanks to this wonderful, confounding woman.
Charlotte stopped, stooping down to pick a dandelion from the wildflowers scattered amongst the trees. He opened his mouth to tell her how he made her feel, how strange it all was but how much he enjoyed her company. How happy he had made her that day, as crazy as it sounded.
But the words were stopped by the darkening thoughts that would never leave him alone.She could never love you. Not with your mounting debt.
When she straightened, she turned to face him, brandishing the dandelion like a trophy. “See?” she said with a wide grin. “Dandelion!”
He chuckled. “How very clever of you.”
And though he still thought her beautiful, and though he still yearned for her touch, his smile was weak and sad at the same time. He could never have her, and he’d been wrong to even kiss her. What a cruel, unkind man he was.
No gentleman at all.
“What else is on the list?” she asked as she tucked the dandelion safely away.
“The list? Oh!” Alexander dug into his pocket and pulled out the now crumpled but of parchment. He flattened it out and began to read. “Let’s see. An onion—”
“Kitchen,” she said.
“A playing card—”
“Drawing room.”
“A pocket watch—I have one of those we can use. A snuff box—”
“Lord Hurtle’s study, without doubt, but we must hurry,” she said.
She dashed off again, her excitement at a potential win driving her forward.
“Wait!” he called with a laugh. “Why are you running?”
“Because there will only be one—we must be the first if we want to win!”
Her hair flew out behind her, caught in the breeze, a flash of brown against the bright blue sky. She laughed freely, just as she had the day he had seen her at the lake. And there it was. That same carefree abandon that had so attracted him in the first place. It was innocent and childlike, yet determined and true. He hoped beyond measure that she never lost that, that no one ever snatched it from her.
He ran after her, through the gardens and in through the servants’ entrance to the house. They wound their way through the narrow corridors that Alexander assumed must have been for the silent movement of the staff, but Miss Charlotte knew instinctively where she was going. When she burst out intoa room, Alexander realized she had fallen upon Lord Hurtle’s study in a single try.
She dashed to the desk and snatched up the small, jeweled snuff box that lived on his desk. She held it in the air.
“Yes! We’ve got it! Kitchen next.”
Before he even had a chance to catch his breath, Miss Charlotte had begun to run again, out through the main door of the study and into the family’s hallways. She skidded around the corner and trotted down the stairs, dashing into the kitchen. Alexander followed, barely able to keep up, and he almost ran into the back of her when they arrived in the kitchen.
The cook looked at them with great surprise. “I didn’t think Lord Hurtle allowed running in his house, Miss Charlotte,” she said.
Miss Charlotte giggled, a sound Alexander had come to love. “He doesn’t. I need an onion.”
The cook nodded over to the window where, lined up on the sill, where six perfectly round onions, waiting for teams to collect them.
“We are the first?” Miss Charlotte asked hopefully.
“Indeed you are.”
She thrust the onion into Alexander’s hand, and he deposited it in his pocket, finally understanding the pace of their game. He would have no time for consideration. “The drawing room?” he suggested, but she had already gone.
Alexander only managed to reach the drawing room in time to find Miss Charlotte running back out, clutching the ace of hearts.
And my heart with it.
