She brushed her hands in the air. “I was lost in thought.”
He shifted his head. “I do not believe you.”
A sprite laugh left her mouth, though it was too thin to cover the shape of grief in her tone. “’Tis nothing.”
Closing the distance between them, he smoothed his hand down her arm. “You are sad.” His eyes narrowed. “What is it?”
Her throat ached and she swallowed to press away the lodging bulge of sorrow. Not here. She willed the tears away and took his hand, entwining her fingers with his. “I have no sorrows when you are near.”
His eyes grew pensive, the delicate lines around them deepening. Circling his thumb against the back of her hand, he caressed her with his gaze, the depth of it reaching down to patch the fresh crack in her heart. “Then I shall always be beside you.”
“We are here!” Nathaniel entered with Kitty close behind. “You have pined for our arrival, I have no doubt.”
Thomas and Eliza rushed in from the kitchen and the greetings began to chime like church bells, but even the gaiety could not lure Anna from the cocoon that circled her and William. Then I shall always be beside you. His words embroidered themselves in her soul. She looked up and stalled, his eyes still upon her. In that look, that moment, he said a hundred things—assuring and comforting, promising and pleading—before he squeezed her hand and pulled away, joining the choir of happiness that sang in the space beside the door.
“Our plan is working then?”
Anna jumped at Kitty’s surprising closeness. “Kitty! I did not see you there.” A half-smile half-frown wrestled at Anna’s mouth. “Working? What plan do you mean?”
Kitty raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. “With William I mean.”
“Oh!” A tickle of delight twirled in Anna’s middle, remembering the heated promises they shared before they’d left the house. “It is, and I have you to thank I believe. The gown and pearls are lovely.”
“Nay.” Kitty hooked her arm in Anna’s and started toward the kitchen. “I supplied the means, but you are doing the work.”
With a smirk, Anna whispered. “I would hardly call it work.”
Kitty’s face went wide and she laughed full out as they reached the kitchen.
“Do share what you find so entertaining.”
Nathaniel came forward and took his wife at the other elbow, nodding politely to Anna as he took Kitty to the table and pulled a chair for her.
“We were simply discussing the night’s festivities. Perhaps later you would read for us darling,” she teased.
He grinned, taking the seat beside her as both Thomas and Eliza took their seats as well. “I think that honor is Eliza’s, unless you wish me to entertain you all with my incredible talent.”
“Oh, please do.” Thomas leaned back in his chair, his eyes slanted with humor. “I believe we could all benefit from a bit of laughter.”
At that, a merry chortle jostled around the table. Those already seated continued their back and forth teasing and reminiscing. Anna stared, feeling for nearly the first moment, the rich, encompassing love of family. She’d eaten in fine halls, sipped wine from gold plated goblets, conversed with royals. But never, never had she felt her soul float as if it might rise to the heavens. Lord, my heart is filled to over flowing. She’d never dreamed of such happiness for herself. Never dreamed she would have a family as she did now. If only her brother could have felt this love.
“Shall we join them?”
’Twas only then Anna realized she and William were still standing.
He placed one hand at her back and pulled a chair for her with the other before sitting in the empty seat beside her.
Thomas gestured across the table then clasped his hands in front of him. “Let us pray.”
~~~
The candles that framed the lamb at the center of the table waved their amber-light against the white china. Utensils chimed and clanked, goblets were slowly drained. The warmth of the fire circled the room, as if happy to shield its companions from the snow that fell just past the walls.
“This lamb is divine, Anna, truly.”
Kitty’s compliment made Anna’s cheeks grow hot. “I do hope so. I feared such a gathering would be a poor choice for my first attempt at such a dish.” She prepared for another taste herself, grateful that the nausea she’d suffered had yet to visit her since morning.
“No one would ever believe this was your first.” Eliza dotted the meat with her fork. “’Tis more tender than I’ve ever tasted. Not a dry morsel to be found.”