Heart's Desire (3 page)

“Ah, retribution.”

“Of course.
If you drag out Dimples
…
” She shrugged.

“I’m not always dusty, you know.”

“Of course not.
Just like you’re never stodgy.”

He arranged his features in a severe frown. “I’m not now, nor have I ever been the least bit stodgy.”

“Ha!
Says the gentleman wearing an expression that resembles a thundercloud.”

“It’s not that I am stodgy but that you were always far too mischievous.
One of us had to be sensible.”

“You never minded when my mischief included pilfering biscuits and tarts from our kitchen.”

“Of course not.
Because Pierre’s tarts were the finest in the kingdom.
I wasn’t nearly so fond of your mischief when it involved pies made from mud.
Or trying to squeeze myself into those dastardly tiny chairs at your tea table.”

“You fit in those chairs just fine.”

“Not when I was
twelve
,” he countered darkly.

A giggle erupted from her, one she quickly covered with a cough.
“The chairs weren’t too small.
You were simply too big.”

“I completely agree.”

She pursed her lips, drawing his attention to her plump mouth.
Definitely a mistake.
He forced his gaze back to her eyes.
Unfortunately that, too, proved an error as he sank into those humor-filled aquamarine depths as if they were an endless blue well.
“
Humph
,” she muttered.
“I suppose you believe you won that exchange.”

“I
know
I won that exchange.”

She hiked up a brow.
“And I suppose you intend to l
or
d that over my head.”

“For as long as possible,” he agreed.

“You realize you’re all but begging for retribution.”

He gave a careless wave of his hand.
“I’m not concerned about any retribution threatened by a wisp of a girl named Dimples.”

“Indeed?
Clearly you’ve forgotten the afternoon I dunked you in the lake.”

He’d spent more hours than he could count attempting to forget that day.
To absolutely no avail.
“Clearly
you’v
e forgotten that I dunked you back.”
The image of a drenched fourteen-year-old Callie, her wet muslin gown rendered nearly transparent, clinging to her as if it were painted on
,
slammed into his mind.
He’d been sixteen.
And had nearly swallowed his tongue.
It had taken precisely one heartbeat to know that the battle he’d been waging against his burgeoning feelings for her was a fight well and truly lost.
That he could no longer pretend that what he felt for her was in the least bit brotherly.
That he no longer just loved her but was deeply, desperately, hopelessly in love with her.

“Actually, you dunked me
twice
,” she said with an elegant sniff. “Most ungentlemanly of you.”

“You slipped the second time.
And I’ve never claimed to be a gentleman.” Bloody hell, if he were a gentleman
—
of the peerage sort
—
he’d be able to court the sister of a duchess.
And if he were a true gentleman in any sense of the word, he wouldn’t stand in mortal fear of snatching her against him and putting out this damn
ed
fire she’d lit in him a decade ago.

She waved that away with an elegant flick of her wrist.
“I slipped because I stepped on a rock
—
which I wouldn’t have done if you hadn’t tossed me in the lake in the first place.”

“You dared me to do so, Dimples.”
He shook his head at her folly.
“You knew what the outcome of such a challenge would be.”

“I dared you
not
to toss me into the lake!
Indeed, my exact words were, ‘Don’t you dare throw me in that lake.’”

“The operative words of that sentence being
dare, throw, and lake
.
I was simply following instructions.”

“Clearly
,
you don’t know what ‘instructions’ are.
If my brothers had caught you throwing me in the lake
,
they’d have thrashed you.”

“On the contrary, Nathan and Andrew would have laughed themselves into a seizure.”

“Most likely.”
She grinned.
“But
then
they would have thrashed you.”

That dimpling grin was impossible to resist
,
and he responded in kind, enjoying the teasing camaraderie that had marked their friendship from the beginning.
When no social barriers separated them.
When they were merely children enjoying adventures together.
Playing silly games.
Sharing secrets and laughter and fun.
Albright
C
ottage had become a refuge for him, a home away from home.
He’d loved the entire family, all of whom had treated him as if he were an adopted brother.
But he’d loved Callie most of all.

After Hayley, who raised the Albright children after their parents’ deaths, had married, the family settled into their new life in London
,
with the exception of newlyweds Pamela and Marshall
,
who moved into Albright
C
ottage.
Callie’s absence left a huge hole in William’s heart.
He missed digging in the garden with her and playing with her zany dogs at the small lake on the Albright property.
Everything at Albright
C
ottage was lively and fun and chaotic in the best of ways, whereas his home was somber and quiet, his father’s countenance always either stern or tired.
All the fun and laughter that had previous
ly
permeated William’s home had died along with his mother.
Certainly th
e
part of his father that had once found joy in daily life was lost.

But Callie’s house abounded with joy
,
and six-year-old William had soaked it up like a flower that hadn’t been watered in months.

“I disagree with you, by the way,” she said, her voice once again pulling him back from the memories bombarding him.

He raised his brows and feigned exaggerated shock.
“I’m astonished.”

She laughed.
“Yes, I’m certain you are, given
that
we’ve
always
agreed about
everything
.”

A chuckle escaped him.
They’d often shared lively debates on a wide variety of topics, ranging from which shape of rock made a better skipping stone
—
he preferred round
,
while she liked oval
—
to which flavor of jam was the best
—
raspberry for him, strawberry for her.

“What do you disagree with me about this time?”

The amusement slowly faded from her eyes.
“You said you weren’t a gentleman,” she said softly.
“I disagree.
You’ve always been one.
Always been my friend.
My partner in mischief.
My staunchest ally and fiercest protector.”

William forced himself to take a slow, deep breath.
Forced himself not to read anything deeper into her words than what they were
—
an expression of sisterly affection for a childhood friend.
Forced a lightness he was far from feeling and offered her a low
,
sweeping bow.
“Thank you, milady.
However, that is very much the
opposite
of what you said when you found yourself spitting out lake water, although perhaps I shouldn’t remind you of that.”

“There is no need to remind me, William.
I remember everything about that day.”

His heart performed a slow somersault.
God help him, he recalled that day with a clarity that would suggest it had occurred only moments ago.
Of course the day didn’t hold for her the same significance it did for him
—
she only recalled a silly prank as opposed to experiencing a moment that had tilted his world on its axis.

Before he could think of a response other than
that’s the day I realized I loved you
and would never have you
, she continued, “Which is why I brought you this.”

She extended her hand
,
and he pulled his gaze from hers.
And stilled at the sight of the familiar
,
small
,
pink and white flower she held.

A
S
weet William.
He stared at the serrated-edged petals
,
and memories bombarded him.
Of Callie through the years, teasingly gifting him with the bloom that bore his name.
For you,
s
weet William
, she’d say with an impish grin as she tucked the flower behind his ear, her eyes dancing with mirth.

“I’m not sweet.”

“On the contrary, in spite of occasionally being stodgy, you are the sweetest boy I know.”

“The only other boys you know are your brothers.”

“And they’re wretched.
Therefore, you’re the sweetest.”

“Which apparently isn’t much of a compliment at all.”

“I never said the competition for the title was fierce.”

Lost in a trance of memories, he reached for the blossom.
Their fingers brushed
,
and a tremor ran through him.
As a young boy
,
he’d kept every single
S
weet William she’d ever given him, carefully pressing them between the pages of a bound atlas
,
then storing them in a small box where he kept his other treasures.
His mother’s pearl ring.
A Roman coin he’d found during a walk with his father.
A trio of bird feathers he’d collected during a picnic with his parents the summer before his mother died.
His father’s watch fob, pressed into William’s hand three years ago on his deathbed.
Every letter Callie had ever sent him.

Now he had one more treasure to add to the collection.

“Not only does the flower describe you perfectly,” she murmured, “but it means ‘childhood memory.’
I’ve so many fond ones, a great many of which include you
…
sweet William.”

His throat slammed shut.
God help him, she
was
his childhood, at least nearly everything that was good about it.
Indeed
,
he had few memories that didn’t include her.
Her sister Hayley had educated them on the meanings of flowers, lessons he’d never forgotten.
In his dreams
,
he’d given Callie countless bouquets of red roses, which stood for love, although yellow tulips would have been more apropos as they meant
hopeless love
.

With the nonchalance he’d perfected over the years
,
he casually tucked the flower into his pocket and said, “I’ve many happy memories of those days as well.
Your family saved me from what would
otherwise
have been a very lonely time.”
He was always careful to say
“
your family
”
rather than
“
you
”
when making such comments.
Which was certainly true, although just as certainly not entirely truthful.

Determined to change the subject
,
he continued, “What are your plans for your stay in London?”

That same odd expression entered her eyes
,
and she averted her gaze, something so unlike her normal forthrightness
that
he again wondered what was troubling her.
For something clearly was.
“Oh, lots of things.
I know Hayley is planning a birthday party for me.”

The underlying despondency he detected in her tone surprised him.
“You’re not happy about that?”

A tiny frown puckered her brow then quickly disappeared
,
and she gave him a bright smile.
Anyone who didn’t know her well
,
and even most who did, would have been fooled into thinking it was completely sincere.
“Of course I’m happy about it.
Now tell me, what treasures were you discovering when I interrupted you?”