CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Anna pressed a hand to her stomach, the constant rolling of the past weeks replaced by a nervous tumbling. She stared at the panels of the Smith’s back door, the chilled air biting her ears. If not for William’s prodding last night and again this morning, she would not have come. ’Twas nothing. Just a small irritation, soon to be recovered from, surely. Anna swallowed, a low throbbing of anxiety pulsing in her chest. Her mother had not been much older when her fateful illness began. And ’twas only two years later it finally closed her eyes forever. She clutched the cloak at her throat. I could not bear such news, Lord.
Somehow, as if without her bidding, she reached forward and knocked against the wood. Her arms and legs quivered, but not from fear, she promised herself. When the door didn’t open immediately she breathed out a white-cold breath and prepared to leave just as the door opened. “Anna?”
Nathaniel’s kind tone reached out to stop her.
Anna smiled, her cheeks hot. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
His face softened in a welcome smile, his manner as warm and inviting as the air from the house. “Never a disruption. Come in.”
She hesitated, but the thoughtful way he gestured into the house eased the tightening in her shoulders, if only a little.
When she entered, he spoke, closing the door behind her. “If you’ve come to see Kitty, I’m afraid you may have to wait. She’s gone to town, but I don’t believe she’ll be long.”
“Nay, I…I, thank you, but…” She glanced around the study before dropping her gaze to her fingers. “I came to see you.”
When he didn’t answer, Anna looked up. Her rising pulse stilled at the understanding slant of his brow and the way his mouth lifted at one end. “Of course. Please sit down.”
Anna sat on the edge of the seat he offered by the fire while he rested against the table.
“I’m so pleased at the news you and Kitty shared last evening before dinner,” Anna started, delaying the reason for her coming. She smiled. “She is radiant with joy. I could not be more happy for you both.”
“Thank you, Anna. I am a blessed man, indeed.” Nathaniel’s eyes beamed and he glanced somewhere past her, his mind carrying him away. “She is a remarkable woman. I hardly deserve her.” With a quick shake of the head, he lowered his chin. “But I must assume you didn’t come to speak to me about that.”
His pointed gaze and the somber strain in his tone made Anna grip her hands tighter in her lap.
She licked he
r lips and flung him a fleeting smile, but the words refused to leave the safety of her mouth.
Nathaniel tilted his head in question. “Please know that I will not share what you tell, if you do not wish me to.”
A mite of her disquiet drifted from her shoulders. “I…I uh…” She shrugged, allowing a quiet laugh to take with it more of the tension in her chest. “Forgive me, I don’t often speak of…I don’t quite know how to—”
“Of course, I understand. It is often difficult to share troubles of a private nature.” His eyes squinted in polite concern. “What troubles you?”
“I don’t exactly know.” She sat rigid to keep from squirming in her seat. “William insisted I come because…I have not been able to eat much and he was concerned.”
He nodded with a quiet hum. “I’m pleased you heeded his wisdom. Any good husband would be concerned if his wife could not eat. Do you feel pangs of hunger or simply do not wish to eat?”
“’Tis difficult to say—I know that sounds strange.” She looked down to her hands. “I can only eat small portions and when I do my stomach rebels.”
“I see. You suffer from nausea?”
“Nausea, aye.”
“How often do you feel that way?”
She almost laughed. “Nearly all the time.”
Nathaniel took the chair opposite her. “You are vomiting?”
She nodded. “Aye.”
“How often?”
She raised a shoulder, slanting her head. “I don’t quite know…one to three times a day sometimes.”