Page 12 of However Long the Wait (Sweet Treat Novellas #4)

C arina found herself anxiously anticipating Wilkington’s festival marking the berry harvest. Though industrialization had ended much of the agricultural pursuits thereabout, most homes still grew berries of one kind of another, and the tradition lived on.

She accompanied Aunt Chadwick to the celebration, eager to be part of something so important to the people in this town of which she was growing so fond.

The finer families in the surrounding area were afforded tables at which to enjoy the tarts, pies, and various berry-laden treats.

The population in general made quick work of their victuals under the shade of obliging trees or walking about the various booths and vendors.

It reminded Carina of the late-summer hiring fair held outside Rafton each year.

Did Wilkington hold one of those as well?

Two festivals each summer sounded lovely.

She had always been fond of gatherings, especially when punctuated by such cheerful voices as were heard here.

Aunt Chadwick, who often insisted her “old bones” required resting, despite being one of the most indefatigable people Carina had ever met, remained at the table with Mrs. Garold but insisted Carina seek out a friend or diversion.

The independence Aunt Chadwick regularly granted her often took her by surprise, so unaccustomed was she to it.

Truth be told, she wasn’t certain it was entirely proper.

Still, the festival was showing itself to be a peaceful one, lacking the more questionable entertainments the hiring fairs often included. It would not be truly unacceptable to walk about a little on her own. She was fond of walking, after all. More so of late.

Grant had walked with her in the Chadwick House gardens every evening for the past fortnight.

Though the initial excursions had been rather awkward undertakings, they had swiftly transformed into the pleasant and personal interludes they had once shared in Rafton.

He spoke of the mill and other investments he was involved in.

He told her of ventures he hoped to take up in the future.

She spoke of friends she’d made in Wilkington, of her aunt’s activities and stories, and, as she’d once done easily and without hesitation, she began telling him of the dreams she had for her future.

As before, he didn’t mock or dismiss her.

He listened and encouraged. Perhaps he hadn’t changed as much these past years as she’d feared.

Her heart had ceased aching when she thought of him.

Instead, it warmed and expanded in anticipation of his company.

That, she felt certain, was a good sign.

Her cautious nature—an aspect of her personality that had developed over the past half-decade—kept her from fully embracing these growing feelings, but neither did she dismiss them entirely.

Aunt Chadwick assured her she was welcome to remain at Chadwick House as long as she chose. Carina meant to use that time to sort out her past, her future, and the mess of emotions tied to both. And, despite the uncertainty attached to it all, she was optimistic.

She had perused not more than a half-dozen vendors’ offerings when she spied Grant ahead. His attention was on Mr. Beaumont, and he’d not yet seen her. Not wishing to interrupt, Carina approached quietly and slowly. She would simply wait until an opportunity presented itself.

“Has Miss Chadwick decided to invest in the expansion?” Mr. Beaumont asked Grant.

“I honestly do not know,” Grant said.

“You are at Chadwick House every night.” Mr. Beaumont eyed him in disbelief.

But Grant only laughed. “I am not there on business, sir.”

Warmth spread through Carina’s chest. She knew perfectly well why he came to Chadwick House. He came to see her .

“You are courting her niece, aren’t you?”

Carina held her breath, awaiting the answer. She felt certain he was, in fact, courting her, despite their stated intention of building a friendship. But he had not said as much outright. To hear the words . . . So many of their difficulties five years earlier had arisen from words left unsaid.

“I am doing my utmost,” Grant said. “Ours is a difficult history.”

“Yes, my daughter said as much.” Nothing in Mr. Beaumont’s posture or tone spoke of disappointed hopes. Perhaps Miss Beaumont hadn’t set her sights as firmly on Grant as Carina thought when they first met. “Are you making any progress?”

“I believe so. Regardless of the outcome, I consider myself the most fortunate of men to have her in my life again, in whatever way she will permit.”

She stepped away, finding a quiet spot despite the bustling crowd.

The most fortunate of men. What a perfectly lovely thing to say.

He was truly happy to have her in his life again.

The sentiment was mutual. Indeed, over the past two weeks, he had become an integral part of her life once more. And the prospect did not terrify her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Herrick.”

She smiled at the sound of Grant’s voice. “Mr. Ambrose. You are just in time.”

“Am I?”

She looked up at him. “I have been forced to wander this festival all alone.”

He held his hand out to her. “Wander alone no more, my dear.”

She slipped her hand into his.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. “My darling, dearest Carina.”

At the warmth of his touch and the tenderness of the endearment, joy took wing in her heart.

“I do not believe one generally kisses a person one considers merely a friend.” She meant the remark to be teasing, but the words quavered.

He brushed the thumb of his free hand along her cheek. “No, one does not.”

“Grant?” She could manage no more than that.

He simply smiled and put her arm through his. “The festival is yours to explore. What would you like to do first?”

She rested her head against his shoulder as they walked. “Everything.”