Page 54 of Christmas Comes to Little Valentine

“Oh!” she exclaimed, hurriedly wiping her tear-streaked face and attempting to collect herself. “I d-didn’t hear you. I th-thought—”

Nat found his handkerchief and gently wiped her cheeks before handing it to her.

She mumbled her thanks and wiped her eyes before giving her nose a hard blow. “You must ignore me,” she said thickly. “I’m being very silly indeed, I don’t know what on earth—”

She shook her head, desperately avoiding his gaze.

Nat gazed at her. She wasn’t one of those girls who looked pretty when she cried. Her eyes were red, her nose too, the skin on her face and neck splotchy with emotion, and yet it seemed as if his heart swelled, emotions pushing and expanding it within the confines of his chest. There was too much to feel, sensations he had never known before. So he reached for her, cupping her face between his hands, smiling as he heard her breath catch.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he told her, so there could be no mistake of his intentions.

Her eyes shot to his, wide with astonishment. “B-But why?” she demanded, looking torn between confusion and annoyance.

“Because I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone so much in all my life. So, unless you’ve any objection?” he added, sensing that she might be about to speak again, and pressed his lips to hers before she could do so.

The tension singing through her body seemed to leave her all at once, yet tension flooded him as an avalanche of desire towed him under. She became pliant, giving, as his hands slid from her face to her body, pulling her closer, his muscles locking as the need to drag her from the chair where he could not get close enough became nigh on irresistible.

“Meg,” he whispered, kissing a path from her mouth to her ear. He nipped gently at the soft lobe, relishing her little gasp of surprise as he nuzzled into the tender spot beneath, and then carried on, kissing down her neck and back up again.

“Nat,” she said, sounding so utterly dazed that he could not help but smile. “Nat, this… this is madness. What are you—?”

“I’m doing what I have longed to do, practically since we met.”

She pushed at him, her hands braced at his shoulders, putting a little distance between them. Obediently, Nat sat back, giving her the space she demanded, though every instinct told him to take her in his arms again.

He saw the uncertainty in her eyes as she gazed at him.

“I’ve not lost my mind,” he told her with a smile. “You must realise I’ve been avoiding you all week?”

She nodded, not looking at him. “I know. You were being kind, trying to help me overcome my… my foolishness.”

“Your foolishness?” he repeated, frowning.

“A little bruised, not broken. That’s what you said, wasn’t it?” she asked, smiling sadly at him. “Well, and so it must be. I’ll live.”

“Meg, what are you saying?” Nat asked, the hope surging to life that his grandmother had been right and his feelings were not entirely one-sided. “Are… Are you besotted with me?”

She burst out laughing at that, but just as quickly began to cry again, burying her face in his handkerchief. “I’m s-sorry. I know it’s foolish. I didn’t mean to, and you m-must not worry that I will hold you to this silly engagement, for I would ne-never d-do such a—”

“What if I want you to?” he blurted out, uncertain if he felt elated or like he might cast up his accounts at any moment.

She made an odd hiccoughing sound and then lowered the handkerchief, blinking owlishly at him. “Want me to what?”

“To hold me to it? The engagement, I mean,” he said unsteadily.

She let out a huff of amusement. “I have heard it said that seeing a woman cry puts many men in a complete fluster, but I had thought you made of sterner stuff, Nat. Really, how do you manage all your love affairs if you crumble at the first sign of weeping?”

“I don’t, I never have, but I’ve never… never felt like this before,” he admitted. “It’s only now, when I don’t feel so terribly sure of myself, that I realised what a cad I’ve been. I made no promises to anyone, and I meant no harm. I never do, but that doesn’t always keep hearts from being hurt, does it?”

She was watching him intently now, and he felt his entire future might hang upon what he said next.

“I mean, I never meant either of our hearts to get hurt, not even a tiny bit bruised, but… but I feel like mine might never recover if you go away from me, Meg.”

She swallowed, but said nothing, and he ploughed on, praying he didn’t make a mull of it.

“I don’t want to go exploring the world by myself, love. Not anymore, for I know whenever I see something wonderful or exciting or extraordinary I’m going to turn around to see what you think of it, what clever thing you can tell me about it, and if you’re not there… well, it will all be pointless. Don’t make me go on alone, Meg. Not when I’ve finally found someone who sees me, who does not think me a fool, and… and who perhaps likes me just as I am?” he added uncertainly. He watched her, his heart thudding unevenly. “You do, don’t you?”

She nodded, a rueful smile curving her lovely mouth. “I do.”