Mrs. Hughes mind filled with a mix of regret and sorrow as she stepped into the cool air outside the jeweler's door, her awareness of the opportunity she had just squandered making her sick to her stomach. His overture with the ring had been romantic, but in the end, she had brushed it aside as if it were nothing.
Mr. Carson joined her on the pavement, a disappointed expression on his face. "Shall we walk for a while? It is a little early for our lunch."
She nodded, using every ounce of effort she had to smile brightly, although she was painfully aware he had refrained from placing her hand in the crook of his arm or even taking her elbow as they joined into the bustle of shoppers and tradesmen that filled the square. Desperately looking for some sort of distraction from their tension, she stopped in front of the chemist's window. She had little interest in the electric hair curling system that was on display, but the window's reflection allowed her to observe Mr. Carson without looking at him directly. A frown still on his face, she watched him suddenly look over his shoulder at the bank on the opposite corner.
"I forgot I was supposed to telephone his Lordship from Mr. Goodwyn's when the necklace had been retrieved. They know me in the bank so I am certain they would let me make the call from there."
"Very well," Mrs. Hughes turned in preparation to cross the street, but was cut off from proceeding as Mr. Carson stepped in front of her.
"Why don't you take a closer look at that hair contraption? I won't be but a minute."
"If you are sure?" Mrs. Hughes was quite curious to examine the collected rods and coils more closely.
"Of course." He gave her a polite smile as he set off towards the bank.
Mrs. Hughes had time to tour the entire chemist shop before Mr. Carson returned with an improved disposition, much to Mrs. Hughes relief. They made a short stop at the grocers to check on the following week's order before crossing the square to reach the bistro for an early lunch.
The lunch was awkward, the only conversation exchanged being about the house and the various improvements that had been made or soon would be. While his disposition was markedly brighter, Mrs. Hughes also felt Mr. Carson distracted since his return from the bank, a theory supported by his struggle to concentrate on the questions she asked him regarding their property. They were both relieved when the check was delivered and the uncomfortable meal brought to an end.
Two bus rides and a short walk later they were at the gate of their new house. Mrs. Hughes felt a lump forming in her throat as she looked up at the charming limestone façade. "I'd forgotten how lovely it is, Mr. Carson."
"Would you like to go inside?"
She reached up and wiped a tear from her eye before turning back to look at him, "Please."
He surprised her by taking her hand as they made their way up the path to the front door of the house. Turning the key in the hole, they were met with the strong odor of fresh paint and varnish.
"Have they begun painting?"
"I actually thought they would be finished. They started last Thursday." He followed her into the entry and they immediately heard the sound of voices from upstairs. "Hello?" Mr. Carson's loud voice echoed through the empty house. Two estate workers quickly emerged from one of the upstairs bedrooms.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Carson," A wiry man in overalls greeted him as he made his way down the stairs. "We are almost finished. We only have the trim in this last room to complete, but we can come back tomorrow if we will be in your way."
"Please continue, Mr. Bremmer, and please come and find me if you finish in the next hour."
Mrs. Hughes gave Mr. Carson an odd look as Mr. Bremmer smiled and nodded at both of them before scurrying back upstairs.
"Do you trust me, Mrs. Hughes?"
The question surprised her, but she quickly answered, "More than anyone I have ever known."
Her honesty was rewarded with a squeeze of her hand, "Please close your eyes."
She took a deep breath and grinned as she closed her eyes. He allowed himself a brief look at her lovely, smiling face before carefully leading her to the back of the house. Guiding her to the far corner of the kitchen, he gently turned her so that she would be able to take in the entire room. "All right. You may look."
She opened her eyes to find the large room glowing in a rich butter yellow with white washed trim. The tiles in the floor were large white squares set off with small black squares that coordinated with the large black iron aga. A large butcher block table separated the cooking area from the far side of the room which could accommodate a small table and chairs set near the fireplace.
"Are you happy with the color? You had mentioned the kitchen should be painted in a shade of yellow to pick up the sunshine coming through the east windows.
"It's lovely." She let go of his hand as she made a circuit of the kitchen, each step leading her to fall more and more in love with the room.
"Are you pleased?"
"Very much so, Mr. Carson." She opened the cupboard door to the left of the large soapstone sink to find the insides had been freshly painted as well. "They have done a beautiful job in here, Mr. Carson."
Taking her hand once more, he ushered her into the dining room where a soft robin's egg blue covered the walls with all of the built-in cabinetry painted a fresh white. She gasped, "It is perfect. The color is perfect."
"You said like the color of a robin's egg."
She turned back to him, "But we only had one conversation about what colors to paint the rooms." She was referring to a brief talk they had while sharing sherry just after the New Year. She never imagined he would remember what she had dreamily described, much less ascribe to all of her whims. "I thought you would want to discuss it further?"
He gave her a warm smile, "I saw the way you lit up as you described how you saw each room. You have lovely taste, Mrs. Hughes. I only hope I captured what you saw in your mind's eye."
Mr. Carson's memory and attention to detail hadn't failed him. Each room was painted just as Mrs. Hughes had desired, from the soft beige of the sitting room walls to the sage green wainscoting in the downstairs bathroom.
They were making their way up the stairs to the bedrooms when Mr. Bremmer and his young assistant emerged from the west bedroom, their hands filled with buckets as they carried a ladder between them. "Tommy and I are finished, Mr. Carson. We'll just load up the cart out back and be on our way."
"Thank you, Mr. Bremmer, but if you wouldn't mind, would you both stop back in after you have loaded your cart? We may need two witnesses."
His request was met by three puzzled faces.
"Witnesses, Mr. Carson?" Mrs. Hughes placed her hand on his arm, but he continued to look at Mr. Bremmer for an answer.
"Of course, Mr. Carson. Please just give us a few minutes.
"Thank you, Mr. Bremmer. Please take your time." Mr. Carson took Mrs. Hughes' elbow and they quickly cleared the second set of steps to make way for Mr. Bremmer and his assistant.
"If you would join me in our room, Mrs. Hughes."
"Our room, Mr. Carson?" She had known that they would eventually share one of the house's bedrooms upon their retirement, but when that would be was as unclear as their wedding date. So many decisions yet to be made, she was astounded to hear him refer to the bedroom over the kitchen as "our room."
Taking her hand, he led her into the center of the large white walled room that boasted its own fireplace and private bath. "You did say white walls for all the bedrooms?"
"Yes, but…"
He interrupted her by taking both of her hands in his, "Mr. Bremmer and his assistant will be back shortly. I need to ask you something before they come back."
Her bewilderment at his announcement was matched only by her curiosity. "Please do, Mr. Carson."
"I know we haven't discussed the exact date that we are to be married, but when I slipped the band onto your finger this morning, I suddenly knew when I would like the date to be."
"You did?"
"Yes. Today."
She let out a small gasp. "But…"
"I know it is too late to get to the registrar's office, but there is another way. Have you heard of handfasting, Mrs. Hughes?"