Page 22 of The Sweetest Season
“And how is your darling Isabel?”
Noel took a cautious step toward her.“Bea, did no one ever tell you the details?”
“No!Including you.”
He sighed.“This is the problem with gossip.I knew there were some ridiculous exaggerations going around, but I tried to ignore it, so I missed the worst ones.Sweetheart, this young lady you fear…she’s only just turned fourteen this fall.”
“Oh!Oh.”Embarrassment flooded through Bea.“No one mentioned that.”
“No, they might not even have known.Everyone likes the fairy tale, so why bother with dull facts?In truth, Isabel is a darling little girl, and shewasa great comfort to me when I was captive.Isabel was enchanted by the idea of the noble, wounded soldier.In reality, I was just a sick man who couldn’t walk very well.But she spent a lot of time with me, often reading…or beating me soundly at cribbage.I think having someone like her around helped to keep me sane until I was eventually released in a prisoner exchange and I could return to Philadelphia under Mr Marley’s care.”
“The stories I heard implied that you cared for her…and it sounded as if she were older.But I suppose that was people being fanciful.”
“I do care for her very much, of course.But she’s like a niece or a little cousin.I hope to someday attend her wedding, and if the man she marries ever makes her cry I shall make him answer for it.But since I’ve lived here there is only one woman who’s ever captured my attention.You.”
“And now I have ruined that forever,” Bea said, not able to look him in the face.“If the carriage is still outside, I’ll go home now.”
“Wait.”Noel put his hand out to stop her from moving to the door.“Please don’t leave.It was my mistake as much as yours.I should have been clearer about my errand, and not left you in any doubt.It was never my intention to hurt you, Bea.”
“I hurt myself very well,” she told him.“And I’ve ruined the cake as well as my future…so that’s fitting.”
“What did you do to it?”he asked.“It looks absolutely perfect.”
“On the outside.”She looked down at the cake, explaining, “You requestedBeatrice.So it’s bitter.There’s no sugar in the cake.No honey, nothing sweet at all.”
“Ah.”Noel sighed.“So you’re teaching me a lesson?”
“Yes.Though I’m not sure it’s the right one after all.Anyway, I’m the one who needs a lesson.”
“It looks so beautiful.”He put his plate down on the table.“It shouldn’t look so good and taste so sour.”
“I’m sorry.I was quite angry when I made it.”
“Evidently.”He pushed the plate away.“I don’t suppose you brought along anything that tastes like forgiveness.”
Beatrice wanted to cry.“I’m sorry,” she repeated.“I’m not particularly familiar with that flavor.”
“Well, we’ll do without.Something to drink?I have sherry.Or port?”
“Port, please,” she said rather recklessly.Women did not generally drink port.However, Beatrice craved a taste strong enough to take her mind from her awful mistake.
He poured port into two glasses, then walked back to where she stood, near the cake.He handed her one glass, but made no attempt to move away.
She took a sip.The drink was garnet red, and much stronger than most wine.It wasn’t just the bite of alcohol.It was the caramel undertones, the edge of cinnamon, even the tannic notes of the dry oak it was aged in.This was a wine one could almost eat.
He took a sip himself, then asked, “What do you think?”
“It’s excellent,” she said quite honestly.Then, before he might think she was going soft, she said, “It would have tasted terrible with the cake, even if I’d put in sugar as I should have.”
Noel took a second sip, then put his glass down.“I think you’re right.It’s an unusual flavor.Hard to match with anything else.”
He stepped closer, reaching out to take her glass away.Which was just as well.She nearly dropped it, she was so flustered by his closeness.
Noel raised his hand to her face, gently touching her chin, making her look at him.He said in a tone rough with desire, “I need to taste you.”
“Is that wise?After I proved myself so petty?”she said, sounding breathy and uncertain, which made sense, considering her rib cage now seemed to be filled with a cloud of butterflies.She wanted to taste him too.
“Dear heart,” said Noel.“You claim you’re so bitter and sour.But you’ve always been sweeter than I deserved.”
