Anna stepped out of the gray, mud-laced skirts and petticoat and pulled her arms from her sleeves. Eliza offered a moist cloth and Anna grinned, relishing the feel of the cool wet as it wiped away the dirt from her skin. Once refreshed, she turned to the bed to reach for the gown, but stopped when Eliza and Kitty both stared open-mouthed.
“Is something wrong?”
“Anna!” Eliza motioned to her. “I’ve never seen such lovely stays.”
Kitty came forward and touched the laces that criss-crossed up the back. “The needlework is exquisite. Wherever did you get such a thing?”
Swallowing, Anna paused. Never in her wildest imaginations had she thought any person would see her stays. She hadn’t thought to change them as she had her gown. And since she’d made them herself, she could hardly part with them. They were lovely. She dropped her gaze, tugged away by the memories that had only recently begun to wilt. Edwin had refused to allow her to do anything so lowly as sew clothing. Embroider cloths, yes, but nothing that she would wear. That was for the lower classes, he’d said. But she’d gone behind his back and learned despite his protests. The thrill of such secrecy made her insides buzz even now.
Facing her friends, she dusted her hands down her stomach. “I’m pleased you like them. I…I made them.”
“You made them!” Both girls answered together.
“What a talent you have. I could never dream of creating something so beautiful.” Kitty blinked breathlessly. She turned to the bed and helped Anna step into the petticoat. “I can’t imagine where you came upon such lovely material, and the thread…’tis so delicate.”
Eliza touched her rounded belly and sat back against the bed. ““Forgive me, ladies, but I must sit a moment. I fear this babe takes much of my strength these days, and I find myself sitting more often than I’d wish.”
Kitty peered over her shoulder and winked. “I am all too pleased to help. So long as I may hold your dear baby whenever I please.”
Eliza’s dark eyes twinkled. “I am sure it won’t be too long before you have one of your own.”
A giggle burst from Kitty’s mouth. “I am married but a few days, Liza.”
“It only takes once.”
“Liza!” Kitty dropped her hands, her face crimson.
Eliza pulled her lips between her teeth and shrugged with a mischievous gleam in her face. “Anna knows all about—” The mirth slipped from her features. “You haven’t lost any children, Anna? I fear I may be speaking unkindly without knowing it.”
“Do not worry.” She answered quickly, before the truth of her pain would reveal itself in her eyes. “I have never had a child.”
At this, the ache in Anna’s throat grew. She would never have the opportunity to experience such a joy. The emptiness in her womb suddenly filled every part of her until she feared she could no longer breathe. Would William despise her for what she could never give him? Should she reveal the truth before tying him to a wife that couldn’t bear him the children he wished for?
A knock tapped at the door.
“Are you ready? The reverend is waiting.” Thomas’s voice floated through the wood.
The two sisters glanced at Anna, their eyes trailing her up and down as if to be sure they’d tied every bow and cinched every knot. Her heart lurched to her throat. Lord, give me strength.
“We’ll be right down,” Eliza said, rising from the bed. Then to Anna she whispered, “You look so lovely. William will be awestruck.”
“Without a doubt.” Kitty grinned wide and opened the door, motioning for Anna to exit first.
Lord, give me strength. Trying to recall how to place one foot in front of the other, she started down the stairs to speak vows with a man who was little more than a stranger.
~~~
The sound of swishing skirts and the light tapping of shoes made William whirl toward the stairs. He gripped the mantel, allowing his eyes to linger only a moment as Mrs. Rone entered the parlor. A moment was all he needed. His pulse surged. He’d known she was lovely, but dressed in such a gown, her hair pinned up, and that smile…was she smiling? At him?
He cleared his throat. Attempting some kind of greeting, he opened his mouth but no sound emerged. He closed it again. Choosing instead to offer a nod, he motioned to the opposite side of the fireplace and looked immediately at the reverend. Thi
s was all happening so fast. Too fast.
She neared and the scent of lavender alerted his senses. With her head bowed in reverence, William spied the pink ribbon in her hair and his chest squeezed. Pink. He’d always had affinity for the color. Ever since his sister Julia had insisted he learn to tie her own pink hair ribbon—the only one she owned—when their mother was too ill to do it.
If only I had not been such a fool, they might still be living…
Pain pinched and he focused again on the woman who would become his bride, her head still lowered. Good heavens, but she was lovely. Like a strand of silk caught in a sea of black, the pink ribbon wound and twirled between the curls. ’Twas then she looked up and his chest stopped. That same beautiful pink dusted her cheeks.