“Before everything changed,” Winston said, finishing her thoughts.
“Why did it change?” she asked.
Winston hesitated, grappling with his emotions. “I suppose… life happened. Expectations. Responsibilities. We grew up and became different people.”
Miss Bawden nodded slowly. “I miss those days,” she admitted. “When things were simpler.”
“Do you?” Winston asked. “I always thought you relished our arguments.”
She laughed. “Perhaps I do, in a way. They are a part of who we are now. But sometimes I wish…” Her voice trailed off.
“What do you wish?” Winston prompted, his heart beating a little faster.
“That we could find a way to be friends again,” she said, her gaze meeting his. “Without the insults and arguments. Just… friends.”
Winston felt a lump form in his throat. He had not expected this conversation, nor the emotions it stirred within him. “I would like that, too,” he admitted. “Perhaps we can start anew.”
Miss Bawden smiled, a genuine, warm smilethat reached her eyes. “I would like that, as well,” she said. “But how do we accomplish such a feat?”
“That is an excellent question,” Winston said. “I think we start by being nice to one another.”
“That is easier said than done, my lord.”
Winston chuckled. “Why don’t we offer each other a sincere compliment?” he asked. “Surely we can do that.”
“I suppose so, but you go first,” Miss Bawden said.
“All right, I will try,” Winston replied as he considered her for a moment. There were many things that he admired about her, from her intelligence to her fierce independence, but he didn’t dare voice those thoughts. If he did, she might suspect that he harbored feelings for her—which he did not. He decided it would be best if his compliment was vague and unassuming.
“I like your red hair. It suits you,” he said.
Miss Bawden’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “That was a terrible compliment.”
“I thought it was more than adequate,” Winston defended, his tone light.
“You can do better than that, surely,” she teased.
Winston knew she was right. “Fine. I admire your tenacity. You never back down from a challenge… ever. You would rather fall on your own sword than be proved wrong.”
Miss Bawden’s smile grew. “Thank you,” she said. “And for my part, I admire your dedication to your work. You have become quite accomplished as a barrister, and it is evident that you care deeply about what you do.”
Winston felt warmth spread through him at her words. “I appreciate your kind words,” he said.
“This isn’t so difficult, after all,” she remarked.
“No, it isn’t,” Winston agreed. “Perhaps, if you are not opposed, we can keep this up.”
Miss Bawden winced, but her eyes held a mischievous glint. “Yes, but it might be best if we forgo complimentingeach other all the time. People might become suspicious if we are too familiar with one another.”
“Agreed,” Winston said. “We do not want people to start talking about us.”
“Do you suppose we should start calling each other by our given names once more?” she asked, her voice tentative. “You used to call me Mattie when we were younger. It only changed after…” Her words came to an abrupt stop, her cheeks flushing slightly.
The kiss.
Everything changed after that moment.
Winston cleared his throat, trying to ignore the sudden rush of memories. “I have no objections to calling you Mattie, but you must call me Winston. And no more ‘my lording’ me. It is grating on my ears.”
