Page 41 of Caroline Saves the Blacksmith
Work, Caroline. You can work.
She pulled in a thready breath, grateful the deafening sounds of the smithy masked her pain. The boy at the counter cocked his head quizzically. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“Fine. I am fine. Mr. Jackson was speaking with me about … repairing a lock. I will return tomorrow.”
Caroline swept away before the apprentice could reply. She needed to get away before she revealed her emotions.
Turning back to Market Street, she walked the length, passing her shop without pausing. Her legs carried her without direction from her brain while she attempted to come to terms with the idea that she had possibly—probably—lost William when she had left his home the day before. If he was courting someone in her place, she did not even have the promise of next Christmas to cling to.
Icy wind tunneled around the nearby buildings to blast her as she fought for control over her emotions. Perhaps the men had misunderstood? William did not seem a fickle man. He had assured her that the offer to wed stood. If only she could talk to him and sort this out.
But how could she? Now that Christmas Day was over, their street was bustling again. Attempting to sneak into his home to discuss it was fraught with potential consequences. Not to mention, she did not know when he would return.
She should never have allowed herself to grow close to him. It was a mistake to form connections. Connections could be lost and then all one had were the ashes of regret. She should have clung to her work, which had kept her sane these past two years. Breaking her vow had brought fresh pain to contend with.
Work is the answer!
THE RECONCILIATION
THE FIFTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS
She had not caught a glimpse of the blacksmith in several days, but there he was, across the street entering the post office. If she hurried out there, she could catch him on his way out and determine once and for all if she had lost her opportunity.
Over the past three days, since visiting the smithy and learning he was gone to Bath, Caroline had worked under a shroud of turmoil. One moment she was committed to working, the next she was wondering, what if?
What if William was not courting another woman? What if this was a misunderstanding, and his offer to wed was still valid? What if they could form a wonderful union, two successful proprietors united in a partnership? Assist each other in realizing their respective dreams?
For the first time in days, she might have an opportunity to find out where matters stood.
“I think perhaps I would like to see the blue silk again.”
“Miss Jolie, Lady Jolie, would you mind if my apprentice assisted you for just a moment? I see someone I must converse with, but I will be right back.”
The young woman and her mother nodded, still fingering the fabrics they were inspecting. Caroline brought out the silk they had requested while calling for Annie, keeping a nervous eye out for William to ensure she did not miss him, before hurrying out the front door.
Crossing the street, she stopped outside the post office, fidgeting with her gown while she tried to decide if she should follow him in. Leaving her shop without a cloak had been ill-advised—she was quickly growing cold in the winter air, but if she entered, they could hardly speak of anything meaningful.
Just as she raised her hand to enter, she saw William approaching from the other side of the door and stepped back to allow him to exit. He caught sight of her through the glass panes and appeared to hesitate for a moment, as if he were preparing himself before he opened the door and strode out.
“Mrs. Brown, season’s greetings.” His words were polite, but the intonation was flat, as if he were parodying appropriate behavior.
Caroline gave a slight curtsy in greeting. “Mr. Jackson, I … wanted to discuss that lock.” She glanced restlessly toward the two women passing by behind him. William stared over her shoulder, refusing to meet her eyes.
Realizing William would not look at her, Caroline’s heart sank. So it was true. William had moved on after her rejection. He had found someone who would appreciate him, which she had failed to do.
“However, it is not urgent. I shall visit you at the smithy when I have time.” She stepped back, her hopes and what-ifs finally dashed to pieces like the waves hitting rocks in the seascape over his mantel. Which she would never see again, not these holidays or the next.
William put out a hand as if to stay her. “Mrs. Brown, I—” He stopped, his eyes focused on a point over her shoulder. It was clear he had been about to say something, but now he stood taciturn, even unnerved. Behind her, she could hear the rumble of wheels. “—I must go!”
With that, he abruptly turned to storm down the street. Caroline was left to watch his retreating form until she was distracted by how loud the approaching vehicle was.
Frowning, she turned around to see what had caught his attention and discovered that a large, ornate carriage was approaching. Liveried servants could be seen in blue with gold brocade. Someone important must be visiting Chatternwell.
Realizing she had left Miss Jolie and her mother alone with Annie and a promise to return, Caroline quickly crossed the street to re-enter her shop. The warmth was a relief, even if it could not warm her frozen heart.
“Miss Jolie, my apologies. I … had a lock that needed repair, and Mr. Jackson happened to be passing by.”
“It is no trouble, Mrs. Brown. I shall have the gown made with the Saxon blue silk, if you could?”
