Anna gasped and spun toward the door. Mind struggling against the un-carved marble of what had almost been so beautiful, she forced her lungs to take in long sweeps of air. He’d nearly kissed her. And she’d nearly allowed it. But ’twas not that she had simply allowed him to draw near—she had hoped, nay, yearned for the touch of his mouth upon hers. William’s gaze, as it had dropped to her mouth, implied the impending kiss would have been far more passionate than their first had been.
“Thomas,” William called out, rushing to the door.
“Forgive me for intruding.” Pale moonlight outlined Thomas’s tall, strong frame. “Nathaniel asked me to come in his place and see if everything was well.”
William offered Anna a glance before meeting Thomas in the center of the room. “You could have knocked.”
A smile peeked though Thomas’s expression. “I did. But it appears you were preoccupied.”
Anna’s face ignited. She crouched to the fire and feigned business with an empty soup pot. The humiliation! To be caught in such a way—her lips ready to accept him. If only the planks beneath her feet would open and she could hide beneath the cold wood.
’Tis not unseemly. You are married… Somehow, the thought didn’t alleviate the rake of embarrassment. Of course, if he wished to have her it was his right and her obligation. Not that he’d asked for anything more than a kiss, but she knew where it could lead. And if he had followed through, with nothing more than a husbandly desire to father a child, then the painful realities of her barren womb would be all too apparent. Then, most assuredly, he would regret her in full.
“I must go, Anna,” William said.
She darted to her feet and strangled the fear that rose within. “Aye.” She could squeak out nothing more. Would he really leave her again? With soldiers about?
He must have read the unspoken question for his eyes went soft, reaching across the small room to circle her shoulders with calm. “I have no fear they will return. I would not leave you if I believed you to be in danger.”
Ushering the quivers behind her back, like a mother to a fearful child, she gripped the confidence he offered and grinned her reply.
Thomas nodded and stepped out, but William stopped at the threshold, glancing over his broad shoulder as he placed his hat on his head. “Keep the door latched. I shall return before long.”
He waited only a breath before shutting the door. Anna rushed across the small room and pushed the latch, her hands trembling. She put her back against the door and looked to the ceiling. Lord, what have I done?
She’d known the man little more than a week and already she was opening her heart in a way that would surely cause her pain. Why she felt such a powerful need for his approval, she couldn’t tell. Perhaps ’twas the debt she owed him for saving her from a life of misery. Perhaps ’twas her consuming fear that if he found her wanting, he would forsake their vows and leave her to count the days before she was discovered once more and returned to England.
“I will not go back,” she whispered to the questioning shadows.
Releasing an audible breath,
she pushed away from the door and went to the table. With a sigh, she pulled out a chair and sat, drawing the Bible to her. She thumbed through the pages, speaking to herself inwardly to put in place the jumble of emotions that yearned for rest.
Of course William wished to take his leave, however pressing the need was or not. Wouldn’t any man? He felt as if she had lured him to her with her self-pitying words. Do you regret me? How could she have spoken it? The thought made her squirm. In a moment of weakness she’d let slip the very thoughts that had made their way to her tongue.
She dropped her head against the crook of her arm and squeezed her eyes to shut out the unyielding thoughts. But in the dark of her clamped-shut eyes, the beguiling memory of William’s hooded gaze and tender touch made her stomach do tantalizing flips. She’d never been looked at the way William had looked at her, with a kind of desire that was tender and pure, hungry and wanting. Never had anyone traced her face with their eyes or spoken in a way that twined around her limbs like ribbons of warmth from a crackling fire.
She sat up and looked to the door, frustrated at the way she wished he would stride back in, pull her to him, and bring to life the girlish fantasies that tickled her chest.
“Foolish, Anna,” she whispered again.
With another huff of air, she opened to the last page of her Bible and retrieved Samuel’s likeness. The flickering light from the fire made it seem as if his smile widened at the sight of her and she smiled in return. Images of the kind young soldier at the creek pricked her memory. How much he had looked like Samuel. That same crooked smile and those same gentle eyes.
“I shall try to be brave, as you were brave, Sam.” She caressed the edge with her thumb. “William is a good man, I believe. But my fears are so crossed with my desires for a happy future that at times I cannot tell the difference between up and down.”
She stared, listening, hoping somehow her brother would share a bit of wisdom she could cling to, anything to help her endure the hardships and heartaches that awaited. Instead of hope, ’twas loss that struck her. Samuel would never speak to her again, never wink and smile at her from across the table, never make her laugh when she was sad, never come to her defense when father wished upon her things she did not wish for herself.
The sudden longing for his story—the truth of it—bit into her lungs, fighting for space along with her breath. “I have not given up on you, Sam. Pray, do not give up on me.”
~~~
Nathaniel was waiting by the fire when William and Thomas entered. With a quick look, William glanced around. His first time at the doctor’s home matched how he would have pictured it. Well furnished, clean and warm. He removed his hat and cloak. Different from the Watson’s home. More formal, but equally inviting.
“Good evening,” Nathaniel said, motioning to the chair that faced the fire. “Forgive me for not being able to come myself, William. Anything to report?”
“Aye.” Thomas pulled a Windsor chair from the gaming table and spoke to Nathaniel. “William was…occupied.” He sat and turned to William. “If I had known as much, I would have left well enough alone.”
Instant heat burst in William’s chest as he occupied the nearest chair but he kept his exterior cool. “I don’t know what you mean.”