she steams off mad, she gets out of helping with the dishes."
"Oh, I'll help," Trissa quickly offered.
"Not tonight, Honey. You must be exhausted. And Hattie is right about one thing. We should think about winding up this party and leave you two to finish in peace. Your food will be stone cold before we give you a chance to eat it. We will have plenty of time to get better acquainted in the morning when you're rested. Oh, I mean..." Augusta flushed bright red with uncharacteristic embarrassment. "Nicholas, you will let the poor child rest this evening, honeymoon or no honeymoon," she scolded, shaking a finger at him.
"Yes, ma'am," he laughed, catching Trissa's sudden flustered interest in buttering her roll.
The boarders efficiently set about their appointed tasks clearing the table, rinsing, washing, and drying the plates, and sweeping the floor. Augusta employed a woman as cook and housekeeper to help her during the day but the boarders had all agreed to assist with the evening cleanup. It kept expenses down, gave some credence to their official status as servants rather than boarders, and contributed to the camaraderie of the group.
Up to his elbows in suds, Maurice crooned The Anniversary Waltz.
"Oh, how we danced on the night we were wed..." May harmonized with her high, sweet voice, performing a serenade for the bride and groom's first supper together that ended with more wine and another toast.
Nicholas wondered why he had worried so much about Trissa's welcome. Faced with the prospect of widowhood in a big, empty house she could no longer afford, Augusta had chosen to fill it with paying guests who she passed off as servants but regarded as family. Trissa would be safe here. Just as he had promised her mother she would be.
Chapter Nine
Trissa felt warm, and giddy, and fuzzily soft-focused, as if someone had wrapped her in clouds and carried her to heaven and she thought it must be the wine. About her, the dear angels fussed amiably, tending to her needs before she spoke them, seeing that her glass was filled a second and a third time, singing sweetly as they finished their work and drifted off, one by one, all with the same knowing smile, privy to the same secret intrigue.
It had to be the wine and not the kiss that bewitched her so, melting away her aches, and weaving its magic through her veins. If she took just one more sip, she would know for sure that was so. If she felt the smooth, cool crystal on her lips, she would know it was that memory and not the soft warmth of Nicholas that still tingled there.
Before she had tiptoed off, the angel called Augusta had extinguished all the lights except the candles she had gathered from the ends of the table to circle the space where Trissa and Nicholas now sat alone. From some other cloud, a piano sent its bright notes like falling stars sparkling around them. Her fingers trembled as they reached for the glass, setting its golden contents to shimmer and dance in the candle glow. Surely, it was this magical potion and not the kiss at all that cast this strange enchantment.
Her hand was stilled by a gentle touch and the glass was taken from her. "I think you've had enough for tonight," said the angel Nicholas.
"Oh," she sighed her disappointment. Now, without the test of the last sip, she would never know. Unless -- His crinkly smile dazzled her very nearly as much as the twinkle of the candle fire and wine. Perhaps another kiss...She closed her eyes and wished for one.
Nicholas abruptly cleared his throat and pushed his chair back. "It's time you were put to bed," he said gruffly as he took her hand and tugged her to her feet.
Her cloud dipped and whirled a bit, and he put an arm around her waist to steady her. She opened her eyes and let the spinning stop. His hair was a curly halo glinting with candlelight. "Oh, but I feel so... so... I can't explain it. It's like magic almost, isn't it?"
"No, not magic. Just the wine."
She sighed again. "Ah, well, that's what I thought. Too bad." She nestled her head against his shoulder and took a few tentative steps with him toward the backstairs. "I should say good night to all of them. They were so kind to me."
"They'll understand."
A lighthearted giggle bubbled out of her. It was as if the stairs they mounted led to