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"Good morning," she greeted Simon with a smile as she drew her cardigan around herself and buckled her seatbelt. "So, where are we off to today?"
Simon chuckled, starting the engine. "It's a surprise, remember? You'll find out soon enough."
Charlotte playfully rolled her eyes. "I'm terrible with surprises. Can't you give me a hint?"
He shook his head, the corners of his mouth curving into a teasing grin. "No hints. It's more fun this way."
As they drove away, the early morning light casting a golden glow over the landscape, Charlotte's curiosity grew. She studied Simon's face, trying to glean any clue from his expression, but he was a master at keeping secrets.
"Are we going on a hike? Visiting a historic pub? Sheep farm," she probed, her voice tinged with excitement.
Simon just hummed noncommittally, focusing on the road ahead. "You'll see. I promise it'll be worth the wait."
Charlotte sighed, leaning back in her seat. She decided to enjoy the suspense and the beautiful scenery unfolding outside. The journey, she realized, was part of the surprise. As they drove, the picturesque English countryside unfolded around them, fields dotted with sheep and quaint thatched cottages nestled among the rolling hills.
"Your accent – it's East-Coast American, isn't it?" Simon asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them as he navigated the winding country roads.
"New York," Charlotte confirmed with a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "Born and raised."
"Tell me about your childhood," Simon prompted. "What was it like growing up in the big city?"
Charlotte thought for a moment, memories of brownstones and bustling streets flooding her mind. "It was loud and chaotic, but also full of life. My parents were both artists, so I grew up surrounded by creativity. They encouraged me to explore my own artistic passions, which eventually led me to painting."
"Are you close with your family?" Simon asked, genuinely interested in learning more about her past.
"Very," Charlotte replied, her voice softening. "Well, at least my mom. She passed away a few years ago. Amelia, my daughter, means the world to me. She’s at college back in New York, and it's been tough being so far away from her. But she understands that I needed to find myself again after... everything." She hesitated, unsure if she wanted to bring back up the subject of Daniel.
"Everything?" Simon questioned gently.
"Daniel’s splitting was unexpected and left me reeling. That's when I made the decision to move to Chesham Cove," Charlotte revealed, her gaze fixed on the passing landscape outside her window.
Simon nodded in understanding.
"Enough about me," Charlotte said with a small smile, turning her attention back to Simon. "I want to hear about your life here in this beautiful corner of England. What was it like growing up here?"
Simon smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Growing up here was like something out of a storybook," Simon began, his eyes reflecting a distant nostalgia. "My siblings and I used to run through these fields for hours. We'd play hide and seek, have races, and sometimes just lie in the grass, watching the clouds."
He glanced over at Charlotte with a smile. "And fishing with Dad, that was a ritual. He taught us patience, the art of the wait. Sometimes we'd catch nothing, but it was never about the fish. It was about those quiet moments."
His voice softened. "And then, coming home to Mum. She always knew when we needed that extra bit of warmth. No matter how long we'd been out or how messy we got, she welcomed us with open arms. It was a simple life but filled with so much love and laughter. It all seems almost too perfect when I look back on it now."
"Sounds like you had a wonderful childhood," Charlotte mused, watching the way his face lit up as he spoke. "Do you still have a close relationship with your family?"
"Absolutely," Simon replied without hesitation. "Family means everything to me. We might not always see eye to eye, but we're there for one another no matter what. It's part of what keeps me grounded."
The road stretched on, and she tried to think of what sort of place it could be they were going, but was at a loss as they drove through the seemingly endless countryside. Simon's secretive demeanor only added to the intrigue, making her all the more eager to discover their destination.
As they rounded a bend in the road, an imposing silhouette of an old English castle suddenly appeared before them, its ancient stone walls standing proudly against the midmorning sky. Charlotte's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat at the majestic sight.
"Is that...?" she started to ask, but Simon interrupted her with a nod and a warm grin.
"Indeed, it is," he confirmed. "This is Winfield Castle. It used to be open to the public when I was a lad. My mother and I would come here quite often, exploring its nooks and crannies, soaking in the history."
"Wow," Charlotte breathed, her gaze wandering over the castle's intricate architecture, the way the fading sunlight played upon the stones, casting long shadows across the grounds. She could practically feel the centuries of stories contained within those walls.
Simon slowed the car to a stop near the entrance, his voice taking on a reverent tone as he shared a memory. "I remember one particular visit when I was about ten. Mum and I had spent hours wandering through the castle, pretending to be knights and ladies of ages past. We'd been having such a wonderful time that we lost track of the hour. Mum had forgot to take out anything from the deep freeze for dinner. When we finally realized how late it had become, we raced back to the car, laughing like mad. We stopped for fish and chips to take home."
