Summer put her hand over his, hearing his voice change and seeing his face fall. “What? What is it? Did I do something wrong?”
“You could never do anything wrong, Summer,” he reprimanded her instantly, trying with difficulty to put the thoughts in his mind into some comprehensible words, “I…are you happy here?”
“No.” She glanced down into the fire. “I don’t understand how you could even ask that. I am — I /was/ — so unhappy my father promised my hand in marriage to the person who could make me smile again.” A few tears slipped down her cheek. “The servants are kind to me, but they aren’t my friends. They aren’t /you/.” Very quietly, she added, “I was happier in the week I was at Hale Castle with you than I’ve ever been.”