Page 54 of A Lovely White Christmastide
And he and Kaye had fallen right into her trap.
He had to hand it to the lady; it had worked masterfully. One glance at the way Miss Julianna leaned into Kaye proved how well Mrs. Waverly’s plan had worked. But it irritated him to beused as a puppet in her game. These were people's lives, and she had used them for her own amusement.
“Oh, Mrs. Barker,” Mrs. Waverly said in a sing-song voice.
The middle-aged woman glanced back at their hostess.
“I believe Mr. Baitman owes you a kiss.” Mrs. Waverly’s eyes flicked upward and Mrs. Barker followed her gaze.
The kissing bough hung over the door that the pair had been exiting, its white berries glistening in the candlelight. Mr. Baitman grinned and Mrs. Barker's cheeks flushed a very becoming pink.
“May I?” Mr. Baitman asked, placing a hand at her waist.
She gave a shy smile and a nod. The whole room watched in silence as Mr. Baitman slowly dipped his head to press a very sweet and gentle kiss to Mrs. Barker’s lips. Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders and for a moment Carswell wondered if they were going to be given a much bigger display then they’d all bargained for. However, Mr. Baitman pulled back and released Mrs. Barker. The remaining guests clapped.
“Anyone else care to get caught under the kissing bough?” Mrs. Waverly’s invitation solidified Carswell’s notion.
Mr. Waverly and his younger brother chuckled. “Are you trying to trap us, Aunt Waverly?”
She smirked. “Only those who wish to get caught.”
The two men grinned and Mr. Waverly glanced at Beth. “Remember the first year she tricked us into standing under the bough together?”
“How could I forget?” Beth blushed.
Something hot and unsavory twisted Carswell’s stomach. She’d kissed Mr. Waverly? He should not have been surprised. It was an old custom. He had also kissed several girls under the bough in his life, but the look she’d shared with Mr. Waverly made a wave of jealous protectiveness wash over him.
He decided it was time to retire for the night. The last thing he wanted was to hear reminiscence of shared kisses.
At the door, however, Beth’s words gave him pause.
“It was probably the most embarrassing experience I’d had in all of my eight years, but I enjoyed crowing over my friends that I’d had my cheek kissed at Christmastide.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see Beth intently staring at him, willing the words to sink in. It was an explanation, not a moment of remembrance. She saw him, his insecurity, and she’d filled the void. He smiled at her.
Turning to the room, he said, “Allow me to bid you all goodnight and be the first to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
Carswell wrapped his hands about the steaming mug of drinking chocolate. He did not often indulge in the drink, and never without an ample amount of cream and sugar, but it was Christmas morning and he planned to enjoy it.
He relished the quiet of the breakfast room as he watched the gently falling snow through the window. No one else seemed in a hurry to rise, much to Carswell’s delight. Weeks of constant activities had left him exhausted down to his core, but this half hour in silence went a long way toward refreshing him.
Beth’s voice was the only welcome interruption to his peace.
“Either that must be one of the most splendid cups of coffee you have ever tasted, or your mind is far from Haverton.”
“It is drinking chocolate, but yes, it is the most heavenly brew. Come, have some with me.”
She crossed to the table and waited as a footman poured her a cup. When the man had re-materialized, Carswell did not know, but he was grateful for the time the footman had allowed him to spend alone.
“If you add cream and sugar it tastes even better,” he advised when Beth lifted the cup to her lips. “Otherwise it is quite bitter.”
“Perhaps I like bitter.” She smiled over the rim of her cup.
“Is that a commentary on the drink or a certain grouchy captain you know?”
She chuckled. Setting her cup down, she added a lump of sugar and a dash of cream. “I know a way to sweeten him up.”
“Oh?” He leaned in.
