“Nay.” Anna opened her mouth in a softening laugh. “I do. ’Tis a fine idea.” She looked away briefly. “You must forgive me. I find myself startled by the abundant generosity so freely offered.”
“You are not alone in those feelings.” He touched her arm. “Your generosity is…humbling indeed.”
The way his eyes roamed her face, around her hair, and down to her lips made her mouth go dry. The intensity of his gaze became too much, and she turned toward the fire. “I fear you do me too great an honor.” She found her courage and looked up. “As I said. We both have our reasons.”
His gaze narrowed. “You wish not to return to England.”
“That is true.” She turned the ring around her finger, noting not for the first time, how easily her new husband had slipped it onto her hand. How perfectly it fit. “Pray do not think ill of me.”
“Nay.” His hand came under her chin, nudging her face upward. But still she couldn’t look at him, for fear it might undo her.
“Look at me.” The gentle command in his silky baritone forced her eyes to meet his. Her breath caught when the clarity of his gentle blue eyes wove through hers.
“I would not think ill of you,” he whispered. “I could not think ill of a woman who offered her life to a stranger as you have done.” He lowered his hand, and the lack of his warm touch on her face left her wanting.
He continued. “No matter what transpires, know that I will give my best to you. This I promise.”
Anna’s vision clouded. She blinked to keep the mist from forming tears. Lord, what kind of man have you given me?
She swallowed, only speaking when she was sure her voice wouldn’t waver. “I believe you, William.” She stepped forward, reaching for his arm. “And I will do my best. Though I fear I am not…am not…as skilled as I should like to be. I will do my best to provide you a happy home.”
“I thank you for that. And believe me, I have no expectations.” William looked up and released a quick chuckle. “I am simply pleased you are not the kind of woman who is accustomed to fine linens and gowns, fancy meals at your beckoning, and servants to dress you. For I fear that is not the kind of life I can provide.”
He motioned to the kitchen and she walked beside him, pressing her hands against her stomach to hide the glistening sweat on her palms. How little they knew of each other. She breathed out a long exhale. Perhaps she should tell him of her past?
She stopped mid-step. That was not the only thing needing to be spoken. But it was too late, was it not? Speaking the truth of her barren womb would destroy the only lovely moment her life had known. She could not taint it with such sorrow. Not now.
“Mrs. Fredericks?” William said, stopping a few paces in front of her. “Is there something else?”
She stalled, scrambling for a way to answer. Tilting her head, she offered a crooked smile. “You may call me Anna.”
He stopped, his stare suddenly cold. He looked down, then toward the group in the kitchen before giving his attention back to her. The sudden darkness that shadowed his expression made Anna’s chest tighten.
“I thank you.” He looked down again then back at her, his mouth pressed so tight it seemed he couldn’t speak at all, and he didn’t. Only nodded.
Was it her name? She’d seen the shock in his eyes when she’d spoken it, his distress so apparent she’d almost feared he might refuse her altogether.
Whatever it was that pained him, whatever memory he carried, it was not hers to inquire. She buried the unpleasant sensation with a long, slow inhale. They both had secrets. But his, she believed, were far more painful than her own.
~~~
’Twas four days later when William entered the Watson’s parlor declaring the Attick’s’ home officially their own. The lining of Anna’s middle tickled with nerves. Their first days as husband and wife they’d spent at the Watson’s as there had been nowhere else for them to go until William had secured the farm. Congratulations were exchanged and Eliza promised to visit the following day. If only she knew how Anna needed her help and guidance, but saying so would only prove her worthlessness. Though it was true as the sun was yellow, Anna still refused to admit such.
Gathering their few belongings had taken only a handful of minutes, and now, as Anna walked side by side with her husband, the quiet road enclosed them in a canyon of large trees, their heavy shadows blanketing the road while the brilliant blue sky shown bright above them.
She clutched her small bag to her chest and looked down at the ring on her finger. Would she ever become accustomed to the sight? Someday, perhaps. She glanced beside her. William carried a basket full of garments their friends had insisted they take, as well as the items every female needed for her toilette. As it had since the moment she arrived in Sandwich, Anna’s spirit swelled with gratitude. Indeed she would find a way to give back to them the kindness they had offered. God only knew what it had done for her ailing heart.
William cleared his throat and jolted Anna away from the closet of her thoughts. “You are nervous.”
“I am?” A sprite giggle bubbled from her, one she forced more than felt. She relaxed her grip around the bag. “Nay…well, I suppose I am…a little.”
“If it is any comfort I am not in the least bit nervous.”
She glanced up. Only the lines around his eyes shifted, and she tried to read his face, straining to understand his meaning. Had he been genuine or had he—
“I am only joking.” His face bloomed.
Anna lowered her head and clutched the bag harder, releasing a laugh that took pressure from her chest. “I’m pleased to know I’m not a fool for feeling so.”