Page 18 of A Lovely White Christmastide
Opening the door of the carriage, he searched the interior. His and Kaye’s top hats lay at the far end, one significantly more crumpled than the other. It would be easier to retrieve them from the door on the other side.
He turned and nearly jumped out of his skin when he nearly collided with Miss Haynes.
“I wanted to apologize,” she said, not even acknowledging his fright. “I should not have questioned you on what is obviously a very private topic. Sometimes I forget myself.”
“No need for apologies, Miss Haynes. It is I who should apologize for my surliness. If you must know, I lost the use of most of my hand due to an injury sustained at war.”
“I see.” Her gaze traveled down his arm to the affected hand. “Fascinating. May I?” She indicated with a slightly outstretched palm.
He stared at her fingers in shock. There was no disgust or pity, simply curiosity. Who was this woman? Not quite knowing why, he slowly raised his arm so she could see the hand that bent in on itself like a claw. Perhaps it was her apparent lack of guile?
She placed her hand under his and gently pulled back each finger. “Does this hurt?”
“No. I can barely feel it.”
“Do you have sensation in any of your fingers?”
“Very little. There is more in my thumb and forefinger.”
She moved to those digits and gently moved them around. The soft touch of her hand was cushioned by her own thick gloves, but he still felt the warmth. It traveled from the tip of his thumb all the way up his arm and wiggled its way into all his senses.
A breeze picked up and the smell of rosewater wafted from Miss Haynes’s direction.
“I have never had the chance to see this sort of injury. I wonder if it is a tendon issue or if it is related to a nerve?”
“Nerve.”
“Yes, a string-like piece that travels through all the parts of our body.”
“It was not a question. I know what a nerve is. I had the opportunity to meet with a physician from Edinburgh that believed it was a nerve that was damaged.”
“Ah, that would explain the loss of sensation.”
Movement over her shoulder drew Carswell’s gaze and he saw both Kaye and Miss Julianna casting them furtive glances as they whispered back and forth. Kaye’s grin pushed him to remove his hand from Miss Haynes’s grasp.
“Pardon, but my hand still feels cold and I need to retrieve my gloves.”
“Of course.” She stepped back and ducked her head, her previous boldness retreating.
He was tempted to reach out and allow her to examine his hand again, if only to see the way she lit with curiosity from within. But a giggle from Miss Julianna and a smug smile from his not-so-helpful friend reminded him that they had an audience.
Rounding to the other side of the carriage, he saw his gloves through the window. One still lay on the bench, but the other peeked out from under his crushed hat. The door swung open easily and Kaye’s hat tumbled out before he could catch it.
“Careful,” Kaye called, coming around the back. “That is the only hat I’ve got.”
Carswell scooped it up and tried to dust the bit of mud that marred the top, only managing to smear it more. Kaye snatched it out of his hands and furrowed his brow.
“Did your mother teach you nothing? You will only do more damage by smearing it about like that. Best to let it dry and then it will brush off easily.”
“Sorry. It was up against the door and I thought I could catch it.” And he could have if he still had two working hands. Gritting his teeth, he reached in and retrieved his own misshapen hat. With a thrust of his right hand, he popped the top back up. Itstill held creases and would need some attention from his valet to reshape it, but it was better than having nothing to keep his head warm so he plopped it on his head.
“I suppose I should not complain,” Kaye said, eyeing Carswell’s hat.
“Yes, well if I’d left it on my head where it belonged maybe it would be in better condition.” Snatching up the glove that had been under the hat, he shoved his right hand into it, but when he reached for his other he realized his error. Without his valet it would be exceedingly difficult to cover his other hand.
Kaye had already crossed back over to where the ladies stood at the side of the road, but even if he had remained, Carswell could not bring himself to ask for his help. It was too humiliating. He tried to pinch the glove with his thumb and forefinger several times, but his grasp was never tight enough and the glove slipped from his fingers each time he tried to insert his other hand.
He decided to hold the glove. If he held his other hand in front of him and over the left it would at least be more covered than no glove at all.
