Page 44 of The Starling and the Hatter

I mentally kicked myself. Tears weren’t pretty.

Her fingers picked at the grass in front of her face. “He spent all this time with me and then he didn’t have the courtesy to bid me farewell.”

“And what would you have said if he’d told you he was leaving?” I asked, pushing a few strands of tear-soaked hair off of her cheek and trying not to think about how soft it was.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was small, like a little girl’s.

I inwardly sighed. Would my dear contradictory friend ever sort herself out? Ever realize that people were not all good or all bad? Would she ever realize that a friend could be more than a friend?

What could I say to ease her pain without also pushing her toward a man who didn’t deserve her? “Maybe he didn’t know what to say either. We men are often stupid, you know?”

She laughed a little and turned onto her back. I resisted the urge to scoot closer, even though the idea of looking down into her face as she lay here in the cool grass was…

I kicked myself again.

“Perhaps,” I continued, “since he knew you could not go with him, the farewell would have been too difficult.” I deserved a sainthood for how kind I was being to that man.

“But he didn’t have to leave,” she complained, her brow adorably furrowed as she looked up at the trees and then over at me. “There is nothing in Stormbrook for a week and a half. What would possess him to go early, to skip the festival in Dressle where he’s guaranteed an audience?”

Having her face turned toward me as I lay beside her was very distracting. “He’s gone to Stormbrook then?” I asked, latching onto that detail. “How do you know that?”

“The smithy saw him leaving first thing this morning, like a thief in the night,” she said bitterly.

“Or a thief in the dawn?” I teased.

She laughed and sat up, brushing at her cheeks. As I sat up beside her, she sighed and looked off at the trees for several moments before leaning sideways to put her head on my shoulder. “I never suspected I would be one to cry over a boy.”

My heart pinched. Partially for her pain. Partially for mine.

“Attraction makes fools of us all.” I wouldn’t say love. I refused to believe that she loved him, so attraction was all I would suggest.

She wrapped her arms around my elbow and sighed. “Are you calling me foolish?”

“No. I was speaking to myself.”

She raised her head and looked at me. “Oh really? Has some girl caught your eye?”

I swallowed. I could lie and say no, but I didn’t want to lie to Elise. And with Robert gone, maybe it was time I said something. “Yes,” I admitted, my pulse pounding in my neck. “But I doubt she has any idea.”

Her brow creased in confusion. “Why not tell her?”

My shoulders sank, wishing she would just know the truth without me having to spell it out for her. I should tell her, I should, but with her tears for Robert not even dried on her cheeks, I couldn’t believe that this was the right moment. “We should go back,” I said, hoping she’d forget the words I’d just spoken. “We both have work to do.” I moved to stand, even though I hated pulling away from her.

“It’s a good thing a sore ankle won’t keep me from singing,” she mused, trying to stand on her own.

Instead of waiting for her to ask me to help, I just took her wrist with one hand and put my other hand at her back, pulling her to her feet and waiting for her to balance.

Elise

Hatcher waited patiently as I tested my ankle, keeping an arm around my waist for support. I looked up at him. This man was so dear to me. He was always so kind, even when I was being illogical. I didn’t deserve his friendship, and I’d never be able to repay him for all he’d done for me.

His eyes caught mine and I smiled up at him. But instead of smiling in return, a look of longing crossed his face and I didn’t know what to make of it. So I looked away, not ready to think about it.

“Shall I carry you?” he offered.

“No. I’ll be slow, but I think I can manage.”

He wrapped one arm round my back and offered the other for me to hold on to for balance. His hand tightened around my waist, urging me forward so that I could hobble along beside him.