Rosalyn looked into his eyes. Her heart was melting, the pain and sorrow and disbelief melting like the snow under the bright sunshine. Joy flared up inside her, pure, wonderful joy like the cry of an eagle who soars for the sheer pleasure of it. Shegazed up at him and for a moment, their gazes held. Then she looked away, swallowing hard.
“Of course, I can forgive you,” she said softly. “I, too, believed the worst of you. I thought...” She laughed, almost in disbelief, at her own thoughts. “I believed that you had decided to wed someone else instead of me.”
“What?” Callum stared at her, his eyes wide and his face a picture of disbelief. “How in Perdition’s name did you come to such a notion?” he demanded. “I must know! If my mother was behind this, I swear that I shall not forgive her.”
“It was not your mother,” Rosalyn interrupted gently. “I think perhaps it was a misunderstanding. Did you ever say that you intended to wed another? You were in the conservatory. With your mother,” she added, hoping that he might remember and contradict it.
Callum gazed at her in disbelief. “No! No! I said the exact opposite. I said that I wished to marry you. Beyond all others. That I would never choose another. I never would.” His tone was intense.
“No?” Rosalyn gaped at him. Though they had been betrothed for a month and a half, he had never said that. He had never actually told her, without withholding, that he would have chosen her for herself. Not for status, or horses, but for herself and her alone.
“No!” He shook his head. Rosalyn stared as she saw tears form in his eyes. “I love you, Rosalyn. I love you like no other. I admire you, I respect you, and I would choose you blindfolded. I would choose you for your spirit, for your compassion, for your wit. I would choose you for your kindness and your caring. I would choose you over anyone. I love you, Rosalyn. I love you with all my heart.”
Rosalyn’s eyes widened. She cleared her throat, trying to speak, but tears ran down her cheeks. She smiled at him,laughing at his bewildered expression as he saw her happy response.
“Callum. Your words move me deeply. They stir my heart in ways I cannot fully express. I love you. I think I fell in love with you that day in the snow, when you caught me. You were so cross!” she chuckled at the memory. “Or mayhap it was even before. I do not know. One cannot put a time on these things. All I know is that I love you like no other, and that I will love you always. I love you, Callum.”
She gazed up into his eyes and he looked back at her. Slowly, tenderly, he reached for her hands and held them in his. She stared into his eyes, his lips lifted at the corners in a half-smile. He gazed back at her. He leaned forward so gently, so carefully. Just as his lips were about to touch hers, two sets of feet sounded on the stairs.
“Gracious! Look at that!” Georgina’s voice said loudly.
“It’s Christmas!” Isabel yelled.
Rosalyn laughed wildly as Callum lifted her off her feet, spinning her around and setting her gently in the entranceway of the inn. She frowned, bewildered, but as her gaze moved upward, she realised why. A kissing bough hung above the entrance at the bottom of the stairs.
Callum’s face moved toward hers, and with a tender smile, he pressed a soft, heartfelt kiss to her cheek. Rosalyn shut her eyes, her heart swelling with warmth as his affection flooded her. It was a kiss that spoke of everything they had shared and everything yet to come, a promise of love and devotion.
***
Later, they sat at the table in the inn parlour. Harriet was there, sitting next to Sebastian, and Papa and Georgina and Isabel. The inn parlour seemed crowded, and when theinnkeeper’s wife appeared, carrying a tray laden with pie and potatoes and buttery carrots, they all cheered aloud.
“What wholesome fare,” Callum said appreciatively as Papa carved up the enormous meat pie. Steam and savoury smells filled the space. Rosalyn’s mouth watered.
“It’s Christmas!” Georgina reminded them all, making everyone laugh.
“This is the best meal I have ever eaten,” Callum said with a sincere look in his eyes. Rosalyn smiled back.
It was true, she thought as she sampled the delicious pie and trimmings. The meal was humble but delicious. And the warm, cosy space of the inn parlour was simple and undecorated, but it was a veritable palace because love filled the space between its walls.
“It is a grand meal,” she murmured, staring at him.
“If we had a pudding, I wonder who would find the sixpence?” Callum mused.
“You, brother,” Harriet teased. “You always find it.”
“I do,” Callum said with a smile. “I am rich. I truly am. More than I ever thought possible.” He gazed at Rosalyn, his eyes gentle as he looked at her.
Rosalyn swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion, her heart warm with love.
“And so, do you see?” Georgina declared as they settled down to their meal. “Despite all the hardships and amidst the sorrow, we have been blessed, after all. We have received more than we could have ever imagined—Callum, Harriet, and the rest of us”
Everyone laughed. Rosalyn smiled; her heart so full of happiness that she could barely speak.
“I think there is truth in that,” Isabel said quietly. “Christmas, after all, is not about any single figure or tradition, but about the spirit that fills our hearts when we are surroundedby those we hold most dear. It is in the joy of giving, yes, but also in the quiet grace of receiving with an open heart.”
Rosalyn nodded, her heart swelling with a quiet, peaceful certainty. “That feels right,” she whispered. “It is the spirit of being together, of love shared, that truly makes Christmas.”
“Love is not a reward; it is a gift. It cannot be earned, it can only be received,” Harriet said, nodding at Callum.
