Page 68 of A Lovely White Christmastide
Kaye’s use of his Christian name brought power with his words. Still, Carswell could not help saying, “You cannot possibly know that you are in love this soon.”
Miss Julianna smiled. “Perhaps not, but we can choose to love every day from this day forward, to cultivate what we do feel for one another and help it grow.”
Love grew? Of course it did. The idea sunk deep in his soul. He’d already noticed the stirrings of something much weightier than mere attraction for Beth. It had grown more intense over the last few weeks until it was undeniable. Mrs. Waverly had already named it for him, but the idea that one could purposely cultivate it, that he need not know love’s ins and outs before claiming it for himself brought comfort.
Carswell dropped his head. “My apologies. I should have had more faith in your tenacity, Kaye. I had no place to question your devotion, Miss Julianna.”
“Please call me Julianna, for if I do not delude myself, there might be some hope that we may one day call each other brother and sister.”
He slowly lifted his head. “It is my greatest hope, but at present Beth will have nothing to do with me. My skepticism seems to have broken the fragile bond we shared.”
“It is not your skepticism. It is her fear. She is like a beaten pup, worried she will get kicked again if she puts her trust in you. Beth was looking for a reason to run, even if she does not know it. She would have found it one way or another. Now it is up to you to show her you will not be put off so easily.”
“How do I convince her that I will guard her heart?”
Kaye tipped his head to the side. “Will you?”
“As diligently and completely as we guarded our supplies from the French at Vitoria.”
“That fierce?” Kaye smiled. “I do not think you ever fought as hard in any other battle as that one.”
“Then you know how serious I am.”
Julianna crossed in front of the settee. “Yes, but it is Beth who will need to be convinced, not us.”
“And how do you suggest I go about it?”
The conspiratorial smile that passed between Julianna and Kaye made Carswell wonder if he’d asked the right two people. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
Chapter Twenty-One
The snow had continued to fall for the last three days, piling up higher than Beth had ever seen. It was well known that the Lake District received more snowfall than most of England, but this was an excess, even for Westmorland.
Her father drew up beside her. “I do not suppose we will make it back to Hayworth Hall before it is time to retrieve Julianna. Perhaps we should try to return to Haverton.”
His willingness to go back to her uncle’s home spoke mounds of the uncomfortableness of the inn, but Beth resisted the pull of her thoughts.
“I would rather not, Papa.”
His voice became unusually soft. “Why not, my dear?”
The tenderness there nearly undid her. “I… I was angry. I said hurtful things, both to Julianna and others. They will not want me there. Best to let her enjoy her time without me.”
A large hand settled on her shoulder and she looked up into her father’s blue eyes. “Beth, you cannot lick your wounds forever.”
She pulled away. “I am not a dog.”
“Neither am I, but the Widow Westwood told me the same thing. I did not want to venture into the state of marriage again with all its risks. Losing your mama nearly killed me, but Phoebe has taught me that wounds won’t heal if you continually try to keep them open, much like a dog with its incessant licking.”
He turned to face her. “Edward hurt you and ever since then I have tried to shield you from that pain. Unfortunately, it only made you more unhappy. I can only surmise you are much like your hound of a father and keep pestering those wounds. When we have nothing else to focus on, memories are both our comfort and our greatest tormentor.”
Beth shook her head.
“Hear me out. When your mother died, I lived in my memories grasping every bit of solace I could, but with that soothing also came the sting of knowing she was gone. It was not until I allowed myself to move on that the painfulness of her loss ebbed and only the beautiful memories remained.”
Beth dropped her head. “Perhaps I did keep my old wounds exposed, but Edward no longer holds my heart, Papa. I am ready to go home, heal, and be happy.”
“Are you? From what I have observed, these last few days you have been far moreunhappy.”
