Page 51 of A Lovely White Christmastide
He dropped his hand and nodded. “Now that makes more sense.”
They both laughed lightly and a soothing silence settled between them. Then Beth let out a snicker.
“What is so comical?”
“I was remembering Mrs. Barker’s red face and incoherent words this morning when I told her Jule had gotten herself engaged. I thought she would die of apoplexy right there in the carriage, especially after we came upon Julianna and Mr. Kaye alone on the road. But when we arrived at the church, Mr. Baitman met Mrs. Barker at the door and suddenly she was all smiles as if Julianna had been completely forgotten.”
Carswell chuckled. “Yes, well Mr. Baitman has been quite useful. He saved my life twice, you know.”
“Really?”
“Yes, once in France after I was injured in the war against Bonaparte.”
“And the other?”
“At dinner tonight, for he is still entertaining Mrs. Barker and keeping her entirely unaware of our current tête-à-tête. I would be fileted for sure if she caught us thus.”
Beth grinned, but the intent way Carswell stared back made her inexplicably nervous. Without thought she turned to the keys and began to play a piece by Handel from memory. She was halfway through when she realized she’d begun to sing.
She’d always assumed when she sang again it would hurt, that it would remind her of all the times she’d sung for Edward, but it did not. It actually relieved the tension that had held her captive all evening. So she let her voice grow wings as it swelled with the music. Even more shocking was the beautiful deep bass voice that joined hers.
Carswell’s voice tripped over her skin, raising gooseflesh with its delightfully low tones. It reverberated down to her very bones. When the song ended, she knew she needed to hear more from him.
“Your voice,” he said softly. “It is incredible.”
“As is yours. If I am brave enough to sing for my aunt’s musicale, might you sing with me?”
“Me?” He was shaking his head before he’d even finished the word.
“Why not? It was you after all who encouraged me to use my voice again.”
He glanced down at his lap. “I know, it’s just…”
“Just what?”
“I hate performing in front of strangers.”
“As do I. Might we comfort each other in our mutual discomfort?”
He smiled. “I suppose when you put it that way, we should both refrain.”
She turned and grasped both his hands as he tried to rise. “Oh, no you don’t. After you encouraged me to sing, I accepted my aunt’s invitation. She will not let me off now, so if I am to be made to suffer, then you shall have to suffer with me.”
He chuckled, squeezing her right hand with his left. “I suppose there is nothing to be done then. I shall have to be your humble servant until my debt for your discomfort is paid.”
“Exactly.”
His eyes danced and he leaned in and gave her a swift kiss on the lips. She’d wanted to linger on it, but he was too much of a gentleman, pulling away before she’d had much time to react.
“We should get back to the others,” he said quietly, then cleared his throat. “There is only so much Mr. Baitman can do before your watchful dragon notices we are both missing.”
Julianna squealed when Beth told her that Lord Bingham agreed to sing with her. Whether it was because she would finally be singing again or the potential Julianna saw in several more meetings between her and Carswell, Beth was unsure. Most likely it was the latter. Once a matchmaker, always a matchmaker.
The next week was a whirl of activities. Christmas was swiftly approaching and there were many festivities to attend. In between the activities Aunt Waverly had planned for her guests, Beth found small windows of time to practice with the others for the musicale. Unfortunately, if Mr. Baitman was not around, they were forced to put up with far too many words of wisdom from Mrs. Barker. And while she’d refrained from hovering quite so close to Beth, she’d become overly protective of Julianna, barely allowing her a single moment to speak with Mr. Kaye without interruption.
The eve before Christmas came with a flurry of activity. Servants hung greenery from every possible corner, including three kissing boughs placed strategically throughout the house.
Beth wove her way through the chaos, her cream gown swishing around her feet. The eldest Mr. Waverly seemed intent on instructing the housekeeper on where each pomander ball should be placed. The scent of cloves and citrus wafted around Beth as a harried maid rushed past with the decorations trying to follow the orders the housekeeper passed down from Mr. Waverly.
