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“Hmmm.” He rubbed his jaw, raising his eyes to the ceiling of the stone portico in thought. “Perhaps you are thinking of your brother having to ride out in the impending rain?”
Her smile broadened, amusement dancing within her and causing her body to simmer with energy, though she did her best to sit calmly and maintain a reserved facade. “Since I don’t believe it is going to rain, Charles, that cannot be what I was thinking, either.”
He nodded, his lips turning up at the edges. “Very well. I give up. What were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking of the pond in Donning Grove and how utterly shocked you were when you noticed me standing on the bank.” And how immensely handsome he looked, but she would keep that part to herself.
It was too dark to notice if Charles had blushed but given his expression, she thought it likely. His rueful eyes swept over her face. “I hadn’t expected to come upon anyone, naturally, or I would not have removed my waistcoat.”
“Oh, you shock me. I had thought you simply lie in wait for unsuspecting neighbors to walk by before you spring out of the water to surprise them.” She kept her tone even, her voice cool, though she felt anything but.
Charles said nothing for a moment. “No, Mrs. Fawn, that is an embarrassment I saved particularly for you.”
“For me, or for you?”
He barked out a laugh. “Well done, madam. I suppose it was for me. You had no cause to be embarrassed. You were completely dry.”
He had no cause to be embarrassed either, by her standards. And Amelia’s standards were nothing if not particular. “Do you often swim in the pond in the woods when you have one on your own property?”
“No, not often. Though,” he smiled, his expression mischievous, “it was not the first time I have done so.”
For some reason, this surprised Amelia. She was too quick to make assumptions where Charles was concerned and would do good to remember that she did not know him as well as she thought. “Do you make a habit of trespassing on other peoples’ property for a quick swim? Ought I to warn the Green residence to guard their lake?”
He shifted on the balustrade, resting his hand between them. “Miss Green can rest assured she will not find me in her lake. You may recall that the day you came upon me was excruciatingly hot and my pond does not have the shaded coverage as the one in Donning Grove. I was passing it and sought relief.”
Thunder rolled in the distance and the cool air curled around her, prickling the exposed skin at her neck.
“No rain, do you think?” Charles asked, his grin wide, showcasing his gleaming white teeth.
“I can admit when I am wrong,” she said, a chuckle coloring her voice. “And clearly I was wrong about the weather. I suppose you ought to be going.”
Rain began to fall on the other side of the portico dropping onto the dark lawn and shimmering against the light spilling from the house. It brought with it another cool gust of wind that was at odds with the heat they’d had that day.
He could not leave now, or he would be soaked before he reached the main road. She inhaled the scent of rain and looked to Charles. “Do you think it is only a passing storm?”
He sighed. “I surely hope so or we are bound to play cricket on a sodden pitch. The men won’t be too keen on that.”
She’d forgotten their match was only a few days away. “You don’t believe Melbury will reschedule due to the weather if this persists?”
Charles shook his head. “And show weakness? Certainly not.” He caught her eye. “Will you come to watch us play?”
The uncertainty in his voice pulled at her heartstrings. “I plan to.” Her gaze strayed up to the window on the floor above them and imagined the woman lying ill within the bedchamber there. She could not very well leave Mrs. Halpert if her condition failed to improve. “But I suppose we’ll have to see.”
The rain fell harder, water droplets straying toward them and dampening Amelia’s shoulder. She rose from her seat on the railing and Charles stood beside her, both stepping away from the edge of the portico to avoid the rain.
“You are being awfully talkative tonight,” he said, his voice bemused.
“By which you mean that I’m not pushing you away?” Even in the darkness, Amelia could easily see that she’d shocked him. “You may speak the truth.”
“No, you’ve never been afraid of being honest, have you?” he asked. Drawing in a breath, he turned and blew it through his cheeks. When he set his gaze back on Amelia, it was steady and piercing, enough to send a volley of shivers through her body. “I suppose I did wonder why your mood has shifted on multiple occasions this afternoon and evening.”
Well, that was not something she could answer truthfully. What could she say? That she had found herself jealous of the ill, pregnant woman who Charles seemed to have feelings for? Or that speaking to Cook about Mrs. Halpert’s illness had been the reminder Amelia needed to sort her priorities and quit sulking? She would have to deliver at least part of the truth. The way he watched her now so earnestly, she couldn’t very well lie to him.
Clearing her throat, she fought the impulse to flee into the house and forced herself to hold Charles’s gaze. “I was worried for Mrs. Halpert, and for those who care for her. If we lose her—” Amelia’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I am only worried, that is all.”
He nodded in understanding and reached forward as though to take her hand but stopped himself, and Amelia’s heart constricted again. Twice in the same evening, Charles had moved to touch her but had refrained, and her body pulsed with a longing to take his hand in hers. It had been so long since a man had held her hand, and she missed the feeling of large, warm fingers wrapping around her own, of the safety and the comfort it provided her.
Unable to curb the temptation, Amelia reached forward and slipped her fingers into Charles’s hand. He was only still for a moment before reacting, his fingers curling and closing around hers. He looked up, his eyebrows drawn, his eyes glittering. Water poured down around them as the rain intensified along with the warmth in her chest, beating steadily against the ground and the stone steps leading down to the lawn, encasing them in a curtain of torrential rain.
