Page 49 of Charlotte's Story
~Charlotte stated today that she enjoys cinnamon-flavored items. I am considering purchasing cologne with a cinnamon scent. If I associate myself with something she likes, it may increase positive emotional connection.
My eyes widened. “Is this your journal?”
“You could call it that.” His breath puffed in front of him. “It’s a place for me to keep track of practical things. Birthdays, favorite foods, things you dislike. I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget anything important.”
I flipped through a few more pages in the fading evening light, scanning the entries as my eyes misted over.
~It is challenging to articulate, but I believe the feelings I am experiencing may qualify as affection—possibly even love. When I am with Charlotte, my baseline stress levels decrease. I interpret this as a positive sign.
~I kissed Charlotte today at our wedding. The experience was pleasant, both emotionally and physically. I would like to repeat it in the future, provided she is comfortable with that.
~Today, I designated Charlotte as my frostpetal—a symbol of beauty and fragility. I hope I can also become someone of value to her, functionally and emotionally. We both enjoy the snow, and I believe our mutual interests will make it easy to build a connection.
My pulse kicked up a notch. “This makes it sound like you were falling for me before the wedding.”
“I believe I was.”
His admission sent a warm flush through me that countered the chill in the air. “But when you gave me the necklace, you said that ours was a marriage without love,” I said breathlessly.
“That was because I believed you did not love me back,” he said. “The necklace was my attempt to rectify that.”
I took a moment to study him, to reconcile the man in front of me with the one I’d thought I’d known. He was so much more than I’d expected. I thought I’d had my life all figured out, but the moment I’d said “I do,” everything had tilted. Maybe that’s what happened when a human married a fae, or maybe it was simply that I’d underestimated William.
With a twirl of his fingers, a mistletoe drifted overhead from where it had hung above a window.
I laughed. “I saw that.”
“Statistically, mistletoe increases the chance of a seasonal kiss.”
“I agree,” I said. “I’d say the odds are in your favor.” Once again, my attention fell to his lips, but this time I didn’t pull back. I bit my lip, a little embarrassed by how much I wanted this.
William tilted his head down to face me, and a single brown curl fell into his eye.
I reached up and brushed it away, then threaded my hands into his curls, something I’d resisted for a while.
His hazel eyes darkened with desire, and his hands tightened on my waist. “Charlotte, I would like to kiss you again. Can—”
Our front door flew open from the inside, and Mr. Darcy came out, holding a hat in his hands and looking flustered. He stopped before running into us. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
William and I broke apart, and Darcy stepped back, giving us room to enter our home.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy, I didn’t realize you were here.” Pretending like it was the most natural thing in the world to come home and find Darcy in my house, I cleared my throat and took off my coat. The coat rack’s wooden arms reached out and accepted my coat like a well-trained maître d.
“I invited him,” William told me.
Lizzy shot me a frantic look from the couch that seemed to scream,“What am I supposed to do?”
“Thank you for coming,” William said to Darcy. “I wanted to discuss Lady Catherine. I’m concerned that the situation might cause ongoing tension, and I would prefer to prevent that. As you know her better than I do, I thought you might be able to suggest the most effective way to handle it.”
I shook my head at the absurdity of it all—Lizzy’s panicked expression, Darcy’s clear discomfort, and William, completely oblivious, asking advice from someone he barely knew.
William’s phone rang, and he glanced at the screen. “Oh, it’s Lady Catherine. Maybe she requires assistance after what happened yesterday.” He glanced at me, then lowered the phone. “I can return her call later.”
His willingness to put me first warmed me, but I shook my head. “Go ahead and answer it. You should make sure she’s okay.” It wasn’t like we’d be kissing anyway with Lizzy and Darcy here.
“Are you sure? I’m not sure if the call is more pressing than what we were about—”
“I’m sure,” I said before he finished his sentence. “Thank you for checking, though.”
