Page 45 of Caroline Saves the Blacksmith
When she was not satisfied, she pulled the floss out to redo the work. This was to be perfection, worthy not just of a duchess but her closest friend, and as the minutes turned into hours, Caroline worked.
To her surprise, the more she toiled, with only brief naps through the course of the night, the better she felt. The black guilt that haunted her, the shadows of self-doubt, melted away until, finally, she raised her head as dawn broke over the hills of Chatternwell. Laying the gown aside, she folded her arms on the table and lowered her head to fall into an exhausted sleep so that when she awoke, she could complete her work.
THE GIFT
THE SIXTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS
William leaned over his anvil, sweat dripping off his chin as he panted from the exertion of his work. It was early. Too early for any of his men to have arrived at the smithy, but he had not been able to sleep, so eventually he had given up and left his bed.
The lock was almost complete.
If only he knew what was happening with his sunshine. He had been keeping his distance, not trusting himself to be near her. His desire to be with her was overpowering, but he had to give her time.
William had been both elated and apprehensive to observe the ducal carriage arriving on Market Street. The duchess had kept her word about visiting Caroline. But had he made the right decision to intervene between the two childhood friends?
And if it healed her soul, but he lost her forever because of his autocratic meddling, would it be worthwhile to know she had reclaimed her self-respect?
Raising a hand, he combed it through his damp hair and thought about the possibility that they might never be man and wife. Could he live with it if she was happier now? If he had helped her find the respite she needed, even if she would not forgive him for what he had done?
Since his night with Caroline, his nightmares had not returned. Now his dreams were haunted by something much worse. When he fell asleep, he would dream of her. Like sunshine breaking through the clouds of winter, his joy had no bounds to be reunited with her once more. To touch her. Talk with her. Experience the pleasure of her company.
But, inevitably, he would awaken to find himself alone in the dark.
Caroline had shown him how to live again, and he did not desire a return to his solitary existence since returning from war. He wanted to live. To feel. To experience life with her. To witness her generosity of spirit when they brought their future children into the world.
To him, she was the very embodiment of the holiday season, and he wanted her by his side every day from here on forward for the rest of his life. He wished he could walk out of the smithy and just go find her. Talk to her right now. But he was determined to allow her an opportunity to lay her past to rest and heal. His impatience to seek her out did not signify.
What had happened during the duchess’s visit? Had Caroline found the peace she so desperately needed? Or did she hate him for his bungling interference?
* * *
Her Grace was not coming.
Caroline had been waiting for her arrival all day. Long shadows out on the street revealed it was now late afternoon. It was clear the ducal carriage was not returning as the duchess had promised.
Caroline traced a finger over the delicate embroidery. She had pulled the floss out and redone it several times. Absolute perfection was needed, and she had worked the coat of arms until her fingers ached with exhaustion.
It was all for naught.
She sighed heavily.
Was it a sign? While she had worked on the gown, she had swung back and forth over whether she should seek William out. The duchess’s decision not to return for the gown proved Caroline had not earned her forgiveness in any genuine sense. She could only be grateful that the noblewoman had seen fit to visit her at all.
“Mrs. Brown, would you like me to make you some tea?”
Annie’s expression displayed concern. The girl had been hovering, clearly worried at her employer’s demeanor. Though Caroline had attempted to maintain a cheerful countenance, her disappointment must be apparent.
“That would be lovely, Annie.”
Caroline smoothed out the gown, gently folding it in silver paper and wondering what she would do with it. Her own desire to wear it had vanished because, in her mind, it already belonged to Her Grace. Perhaps she would have it delivered to Avonmead so she could finish this matter and begin a new chapter.
Attempting to take stock of her emotions, Caroline pondered what came next.
Packing the folded dress into a box, she carried it to the back and placed it on a shelf before joining Annie at the fireplace for tea.
Just as she picked up the cup and saucer, she heard the front door open and close. Setting her cup down, she hurried to the front to find that Her Grace had finally arrived. Caroline’s spirits ascended so sharply she felt dizzy.
“Mrs. Brown! I apologize for our delay. We had some trouble with one of the carriage wheels, and the duke wanted to ensure it was repaired while there was still daylight. Their endeavors appear to be successful, but we will have to fly home come first light to make it to Avonmead for our Old Year’s Day celebrations.”
