Page 1 of However Long the Wait (Sweet Treat Novellas #4)

T here were few sights Carina Herrick found more inspiring than the billow of steam rising from a distant train.

The back meadow of her family estate afforded a view of the tracks crossing the field below.

She never tired of watching it and wondering who sat inside, where they were going, if they would return.

A train held hundreds of stories, each unique, each important in its own way.

Did the passengers ever glance up this hill and wonder who she was, where she dreamed of going, how she imagined her life playing out?

Hers was not an exciting tale with a mysterious ending, but she thought it lovely just the same.

Indeed, her reason for standing at the far end of the meadow was a fine one, a glorious one.

This was where she came each day to talk with Grant Ambrose, the gentleman she meant to one day marry.

She had known him a couple of years, though their connection had only grown romantic over the past few months. He was good and kind. He treated her with tenderness and real regard. She was happier in his company than in anyone else’s.

Her days were spent counting down the hours until she could meet him in their designated place. Here, amongst the trees and flowers, the vista of fields and rolling valleys, and the puff of passing trains, she’d fallen endlessly in love with him.

He’d told her not a fortnight earlier of his dream to one day oversee a portfolio of investments, to have his hand in new and exciting business ventures.

Her family was what Society called “old money.” While she did not doubt her father invested in various undertakings, such things were not discussed or mentioned.

To be directly involved in business of any kind was considered beneath their dignity.

For Grant to share that dream with her showed enormous trust, something that touched her more than he likely knew.

He wanted her to be a part of his hopes and his ambitions. He’d asked after hers as well.

When she’d told him of her time spent watching the train and imagining far-off places and adventures, he hadn’t laughed, neither had he insisted she be sensible, as her mother had on the one occasion Carina had been foolish enough to divulge her wonderings.

Grant had urged her to speak more of it, to imagine more specifically, to share with him the places she longed to see and visit, not merely those she imagined others traveling to.

With him, she felt alive and valued, as if all things were possible. With him, she felt loved.

He turned the corner of the shrubbery-lined path he always took from his family home to this particular spot. A warm blanket of peace and contentment settled over her as she watched him approach.

Someday, I will have his companionship in more than mere snippets. Someday, his home and mine will be the same.

Grant moved at a faster clip than usual, his movements filled with purpose and an unmistakable eagerness.

Did he have news? His uncle, a vastly successful man of business, was visiting from Lancashire, and Grant had hoped to find some favor in the man’s eyes.

He wished to learn all he could about the path he meant to pursue.

His eyes met hers, and Grant began to run. He reached her side in no time at all and, unlike their usual staid greetings, he wrapped his arms about her and lifted her from the ground, spinning her in a gleeful circle. The colorful trees all around them blurred into a rainbow of autumn hues.

A giggle escaped her lips, which did not happen often. She laughed out the syllable of his name. He was a happy person, but this degree of joy was unprecedented.

He set her on her feet but did not release his hold on her. “I have spoken with my uncle." He could not seem to hold entirely still, as if the words he held back danced inside him. His eyes shone with excitement. He made no effort to conceal his smile.

“Tell me all before you burst.” Her own enthusiasm grew with every heartbeat. She did not know precisely what he meant to say, but his eagerness was contagious.

Grant took her hands in his, his eyes sparkling. “I told him all I am learning and studying. I also told him of my interest in business pursuits. He was impressed, Carina. He said as much himself.”

“How could he not be?” Her words bounced about with the excitement building inside her.

He grinned. “You may think highly of me, but that is not a universal opinion.”

“Nonsense.”

How she loved the sound of his quiet, gentle laugh. It suited him perfectly. “Never let it be said that you are not a fierce defender of those you care for.”

“As are you,” she reminded him. “I will never forget you coming to my rescue when Mr. Baskon was being so terrible.” Mr. Baskon, a widower nearly three times her age, had been unrelenting in his unwanted attention to her at a local assembly a few weeks earlier.

Grant had neatly removed him from the room and, though she did not know what transpired between the two men, Mr. Baskon had not returned.

Somehow, Grant had managed it without drawing undue attention.

“He has not continued to bother you, has he?” True concern touched his words.

“He has not,” she assured him. “I am grateful for that.”

“As am I.” He pulled her arm through his and walked with her along the edge of the meadow.

“What transpired in your discussion with your uncle?” she pressed.

“He was impressed with the knowledge I have already acquired and says I have a good head on my shoulders.” He beamed with pride.

Carina felt certain her own pride shone on her face as well.

“He wishes to take me under his wing, to personally oversee my continued education in business matters and pursuits. I am to be a junior partner.”

“Oh, Grant.” This was all they could possibly have hoped for.

“He has no sons of his own, and neither of his daughters married men who are interested in joining their father-in-law’s business.”

“He has no heir?”

Grant made a gesture somewhere between a shrug and a shake of his head. “It is not quite the same as inherited estates. He will leave a great deal of money to his daughters, but the interests of the company and the future running of it, is independent of that.”

Her family, he knew well, belonged to the world of entailments and the need for heirs to protect future generations.

His family, though of good standing and firmly entrenched in the gentry, were not as tied to those things.

Their status had grown in only two generations from a lower rung, with little beyond a bit of land here and there to sustain them, to a family of significant and increasing wealth accumulated through shrewd investments and the active pursuit of industry.

She did not entirely understand the world in which his past and present existed, but neither did he entirely understand hers. It was the future that most concerned them, not the past. And for many weeks they had spoken of that future in terms of togetherness.

“Your uncle, then, wishes you to take over the running of the businesses when he is no longer able or no longer wishes to do so?”

He nodded. “Those businesses are very successful, and he will teach me to keep them that way. The path before me has always seemed uncertain, but I need no longer worry on that score.”

He would have an income and stability. They might at last move from vague ideas of their future together to actually planning and building it. She could not hold back her joy. His smile spoke of the same feelings.

“I will have to work swiftly tonight to have everything in readiness,” he said as they continued walking, a light breeze rustling the stiff leaves around them, sending a few fluttering to the ground.

“My uncle is generous, but he is also very strict. I fear if I delay him at all in the morning, I will simply be left behind.”

As if nature herself were as stunned as Carina, the wind grew still.

“In the morning?” The question emerged quieter than she’d intended.

“He does not wish to be away from his office for long. The train for Preston leaves shortly after breakfast, and he intends to be on it. If I am to accept his offer, I need to be as well.”

She had not thought about the possibility that his ambitions would take him away from Rafton. She ought to have. Rafton was agricultural—vast expanses of fields, grand estates, farmland. There was nothing here for a man of business. Still, her heart had been ill prepared for blow he had just dealt.

Her feet continued to move her forward, though she hardly noted the world around her. “You will be so far away.”

For the first time, he seemed to sense her unease.

He stopped walking and faced her. “We will be apart for a time,” he acknowledged.

“That cannot be helped. My uncle will give me a room in his house, but I will not have a home of my own for some time. I will work hard and learn all I can, earning my way until I am independent enough to build a life for myself.”

“Our life?” she pressed.

He took her face gently in his hands. “Our life,” he repeated. “I love you, my dear.”

“What will I do without you here?” She posed the question more to herself than to him, yet he was the one who answered.

“You will fill your days as you always have. When I return on visits to my family, we will see each other again, in this spot.” He dropped his hands to hers and held them reassuringly.

“You will continue to watch the train and imagine far-off places. And I will work as hard as I know how so we need not be apart long. And I will yearn for you and miss you and dream of the day we will be together again.”

She took a fortifying breath, squared her shoulders, and looked up once more into his beloved face. “I wish it were permissible for a gentleman and lady to write to one another. I should dearly like to know how you are and have that connection to you.”

Were there an understanding between them, an engagement, they would be permitted that luxury.

“Allow me to raise my position in the world so your parents will accept a situation in which we would be permitted letters.” Such sincerity shone in his eyes. “As it stands now, they would reject my request.”

That was likely true, though she wanted to believe that his uncle’s offer of junior partnership and his expectations of a fine and stable income, coupled with his family’s place amongst the gentry, would be enough for her parents to grant a furtherance of their relationship.

Still, she understood they were tiptoeing those bounds as it was, meeting each day and sharing such personal confidences. It likely was not wise to press harder.

“I can be patient,” she vowed. “A person can endure a great many things for true love.”

“How fortunate I am to have the love of so dear and wonderful a lady.” He kissed her fingers, as he so often did. “I will not keep you waiting long.”

He pulled her into his embrace and held her as the wind danced around them.

She committed to memory the feel of his coat, of his arms wrapped about her, the warmth of him, the scent of his soap.

She could, indeed, be patient, for this was a man worth waiting for, however long the wait might prove to be.