She pulled the stays away from her chest and hid them under her petticoat, both reveling in and tensing at the sensation of her unencumbered breasts.

Flinging a look his direction, Anna waited. Aye. This time she was sure he slept.

Keeping her movements so slow she hardly moved, Anna lifted the covers and slipped her legs into the cold sheets, careful to keep her body a good distance from his. A feat to be sure, when the bed was scarcely large enough for the two of them.

She rested against the straw tick, surprised at its comfort. Though not the feathers she was accustomed to, ’twas fine in its own way. She settled her head against the pillow. Aye, very fine indeed.

Sleep tugged at her mind and she succumbed, allowing the luring black of the night to own her mind. She turned, rose up on one elbow and blew out the candle. Black shrouded the room.

“Good night, Anna.”

Dear Lord. He was awake.

Lowering herself back to the pillow, she stared at the ceiling she couldn’t see. “Good night, William.”

And from that moment, she prayed for morning.

~~~

William woke to a loud clang and sprung from his pillow. Blinking the sleep that held to his eyes, he looked to the bed. Anna was gone. He squinted, looking to the east window. A sliver of orange against the horizon signaled the full rise of the sun was only moments away. He wiped his hands over his face, flung the covers from his legs and walked to the chest at the end of the bed to retrieve a fresh set of clothing. He should have been up long ago. He looked to the bed again then to the door when another clang sounded from the kitchen. Anna must be preparing the morning meal. A clash of metal followed by a faint response sounded through the wall.

William hurried on with his clothes and pulled a brush over his hair as a fleck of worry niggled his stomach. Was that smoke he smelled or just his imagination?

This time the voice he heard was louder.

“Cieli! Cosa ho fatto?” A growl-like huff followed and then another clang.

It sounded like Anna’s voice, but that certainly wasn’t English she spoke.

’Twas then the scent of burned food met his nose, and he rushed from the room to see a cloud of black billowing in the fireplace.

“Anna?”

She yelped and jumped to her feet beside the fire. “William!”

Her face, flecked with flour and red from heat, nudged a chuckle to his throat but he refused its exposure.

The smell stung again and he scowled in concern. “Is everything all right?”

She struck her hands back and forth against her apron and looked from him to the fire. A circle of biscuits, as black as the charred wood beside them, rested inside a casket of iron. “Oh, I uh…I’m just preparing your morning meal.” Anna turned back to the embers and wiped her forearm against her head, mumbling something under her breath.

Now knowing she was well, and that only the food was charred, he allowed his gaze to study her round, worried eyes and the determined set of her mouth. Endearing that she would try so hard and be so obviously concerned with pleasing him. Far too entertaining to seek the moment’s premature end, William stared a moment longer. “May I be of help?”

Kneeling, she used a folded cloth to remove the skillet from the fire and rested it on the brick beside the embers. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “Nay, I thank you.” She poked at the food then jumped back, and flicked her finger before sticking it in her mouth. She didn’t look up. “It appears I have burned these, but I will make more.”

William surveyed the table. Flour everywhere. Egg shells in a bowl next to a thick lump of what looked like batter. “You gathered eggs this morning.”

“Aye,” she said, still fussing with the black biscuits. “But I could only fetch three before the rooster shooed me away.”

He pressed his lips between his teeth to bite back the laugh that inched ever higher. She acted as if she’d never done a minute of work in her life. Simply nerves perhaps. He understood that all too well and standing there wouldn’t help matters. He moved to the door. “Allow me to fetch you some more water. I’ll return in a moment.”

Anna looked up only long enough for him to see a flash of gratitude and distress. She nodded quickly then stood and rested the now empty skillet on the table.

Plucking the bucket from the floor, William hurried to the back door as another stream of foreign words drifted to his ears, though their whispered tone made him believe she didn’t think he could hear them.

“Perché hai dovuto bruciare?”

A soothing melody, the words drifted like a song, despite the frustrating nature of the phrase. Not that he understood it, but her tone was unmistakable. Where had a poor English woman learned Italian? He returned moments later, bucket full, to find smoke once again chasing up the chimney. Anna bunched her apron and removed the pitiful meal from the embers, resting it on the brick. She lowered her head and rested it against her knee.

Tags: Amber Lynn Perry Daughters of His Kingdom Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net