Page 9 of To Have & To Hold

She threw Oliver a look that was more amused than exasperated.

“I would expect nothing less.” Nathaniel smiled, turning to Grace. She looked older than she had the last time he had seen her, just weeks before she was to marry Sarah’s brother.

It wasn’t the sullen aging that most people would have expected from a young woman who had lost both the man she loved and her future without warning—but a wisdom, maturity, and grace that came from picking up broken pieces and creating something new. Her eyes sparkled a little brighter, and her smile held a little longer than most people’s in the room as her hand rested in the crook of Oliver’s arm.

Life had taught her and Oliver a lesson that everyone else seemed to overlook—a heart once broken is not an excuse to hide away and never love again, but reason to hold on to the love you have even tighter.

“Lady Blackburn.” Nathaniel offered her his most sincere smile. “You are as radiant as ever.”

“You are far too kind,” she replied warmly before turning back to her husband, with an almost mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Ollie was hoping to see you this Season.”

Nathaniel understood the tone in her voice, as well as the softening of Oliver’s gaze as he looked into her eyes with appreciation. He knew what her words meant—his friend missed him.

Nathaniel cleared the lump in his throat, shoving down the emotions that were threatening to rise up. The middle of a ballroom was not the place to be getting emotional, especially not for a duke who had spent years building a reputation of being generally uninterested in society. If word got out that he was going soft, people might find him approachable,and then he would have to converse instead of being left alone to quietly observe.

“I nearly did not come,” Nathaniel admitted truthfully. “But my youngest sister made her desires very clear.”

“Charlotte is here?” Oliver’s eyes widened in surprise.

Oliver had known Charlotte since the day she was born. Nathaniel was sure his friend thought him completely mad for allowing her loose on Society before it was absolutely necessary.

Before Nathaniel could defend his decision, his heart sank at the sight of a flurry of pale peach skirts disappearing through the open doors that led out to the dark terrace.

“If you will excuse me,” Nathaniel grumbled as he offered the Blackburns a quick bow. “I believe the hellion in question has just escaped.”

Before they could respond, Nathaniel pushed his way through the crowded ballroom and out into the cold night air. It had rained earlier, and a mist still clung and settled onto his evening coat and skin.

Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t anyone else out on the terrace. With the weather as disagreeable as it was, there was no reason to be outside unless, of course, you were up to no good.

“Charlotte!” Nathaniel whispered into the dark. The music from the ballroom still carried on behind him. The twinkling lights cast a warm glow onto the cold gray stones of the balustrade and the path that led into the gardens.

Nathaniel took another quick glance around before stepping down off the terrace and striding slowly towards the gardens.

Surely Charlotte would not be so foolish as to venture off alone in the dark. But his stomach tightened again as a flash of pink silk appeared, weaving between the green hedges.

While most people in Mayfair kept the gardens of their townhomes clean-cut and well-manicured, preferring to impress with brightly colored roses and a variety of exotic plants, the Beckleys boasted a maze in the center of the garden at their London home. One that Nathaniel cursed under his breath as he stepped off the stone path, the anger in his chest rising with every step.

If Charlotte were alone, he could salvage that. He would drag her back to the countryside and keep her locked up until her eighteenth birthday, but her reputation would be safe.

If she were not alone, that would be a different story. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Hopefully, the lad would be a reasonable sort of man, one who relished the feeling of air entering and exiting his body more than the idea of boasting of his achievements with a duke’s sister.

“Charlotte!” Nathaniel called again, a little louder this time, as he chased her through the maze, following the sound of slippers pounding on the soft grass.

Was she running away from him?

Nathaniel turned another corner, and the footsteps grew louder.

Was she running towards him?

Before he could call for her again, he was pushed back by the force of another body colliding with his. Nathaniel reached out to steady her, his hands wrapping solidly around her arms.

The maze was dark, lit only by the light of the full moon and the lanterns from the terrace in their weak attempt to shine through the mist and illuminate the path from the other side of the garden. But in the dim light, Nathaniel could see two things quite clearly:

Firstly, this woman was not his sister.

Secondly, she had shockingly familiar red curls piled high on top of her head.

Nathaniel’s heart stopped beating completely as his eyes dropped to her face. His grasp on her arms tightened to keep her from disappearing again.