“Not that sort of understanding.”
“Did he ... suggest one?”
Sarah thought back. “I suppose he did.”
“I despise him already.”
She chuckled again. “Don’t bother. His heart did not break when I said no. I am sure he recovered from his disappointment rather quickly.”
“Are ye certain? I wouldna recover from such a disappointment quickly. If ever.”
For a long moment, their gazes clicked and held.
He said, “Ye once told me you’d had one great love in your life and didna expect to have another.”
“I know. I regret saying that ... holding on to that for so long.”
“Do ye? I am not surprised another man pursued ye. I dreaded the very idea yet knew it was inevitable.”
Sarah took a deep breath. “Then I will confess something to you. When we arrived at your home, we were told the ‘lady of the house’ would be with us shortly. I thought you might have married someone else.”
“Ah. And how did that make ye feel?”
“I did not like it. Then Isla told us you were seeing another woman. A neighbor, Miss Sorley? I did not like that either.”
He nodded. “I did spend some time in her company, aye. Though several months ago now. I’d not seen ye in over a year and had little reason to hope. I told myself I should try to forget ye, yet I could not. Estimable as that woman is...” He shook his head. “She is not you.”
He stepped closer and took her hands. “Sarah, I—”
Smack.
A wet, icy blob struck the windowpane and began a slow slide downward.
Smack.
A second followed.
Sarah stepped to the window, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed by the interruption.
She peered out, past the melting blob, to the snow-covered yard beyond. Two faces grinned up at her. Georgie’s and Colin’s.
Mr. Henshall came and stood beside her. “Come, lass, this is your chance. Shall we go out and join them?”
Sarah hesitated, then pushed aside thoughts of cleanup and heavy decisions. For now.
She smiled at him, her heart lightening. “Yes, let’s.”
As Georgie had hoped, a few minutes later, the door opened and a bundled-up Sarah and Mr. Henshall came outside.
With a mock scowl at Colin, Mr. Henshall began, “All right, ye Peeping Tom...”
Sarah pointed at her. “And Thomasina.”
“No more spying through windows, ye ken?”
“And no more throwing snow blobs at what was reasonably clear glass,” Sarah added.
“We did try to make proper snowballs,” Georgie defended, “but there’s barely enough snow and what there is is awfully wet.”
