his touch was everything she remembered… except for the bushy beard. That tickled, and she found herself laughing, despite feeling as though her world had been overturned in a single day.
He looked down at her, his eyes laughing.
“Your beard tickles.”
“I will shave it off immediately if it means I can have more kisses,” he said roguishly, a hint of the old Alex echoing in his words.
“I rather like it.” As the confession left her lips, she glanced around, conscious of the children and others watching.
“They have gone,” he said with approval in his voice.
She turned back and looked into his eyes. His hands were still on her arms and it felt good to be held, but she stepped away. Her heart would break—again—when he left, but she did not have to make matters harder.
“Anna,” he called, but she kept walking to the drawing room. She needed the safety of company. In all likelihood, her cheeks were red enough to match the curtains and carpet, but she could hardly go anywhere else.
Johnny and Lucy were sitting on the floor, playing Spillikins with Edmund, who was patiently teaching the two children.
Anna watched, trying to be happy for her child while trying not to allow her feelings to show.
“Johnny is our son now.” Isabella spoke as though oblivious of Anna’s distress. “He brought Edmund and I together,” Isabella said with a smile upon her husband as the game finished and he began to read to the children. “Edmund was a vicar and spent a good deal of time rescuing those in need.” Her ladyship did not explain anymore, but Anna suspected there was quite a tale there. She had her own history and did not really wish to speak of it, although it had made her stronger. She could not regret her marriage, for it had brought her Lucy, but it did not mean her other feelings had died.
The children ate dinner with them, one on each side of the duke, and it was a pleasant escape from their new life, where Anna did most of the cooking and cleaning.
“It is growing late,” she said at last. “May we trouble you for a ride back to the cottage?”
“Do you have to leave?” Johnny asked. Anna’s eyes strayed to Lucy’s and she saw the sadness. It had been magical, but all things did, eventually, come to an end.
“I am afraid we must. Tomorrow is Christmas, and after church it will be a full day of cooking dinner,” Anna replied.
“I will send for the carriage,” Alex said, nodding to one of the footmen to take care of the task.
They adjourned to the hall instead of to the drawing room as would normally be the case. The butler handed them their coats, gloves, and hats while they waited.
The door opened on a rush of freezing wind to the footman, who was covered with snow. He attempted to wipe it off and stamped his boots on the mat.
“I am afraid the snow is too heavy to take the horses out just now, Your Grace,” he said to the duke. He flicked a glance at them, all standing there waiting.
Alex looked at Anna, and gave a little unrepentant shrug. He had known this would happen and she had done too, if she were being honest.
“Does that mean we have to walk home in the snow, Mama?” Lucy gazed up at Anna with her wide blue eyes.
“Of course not,” Johnny answered. “It means you will have to stay here!”
The children were whisked away to the nursery, and Isabella led Anna into the drawing room.
“It will be like old times!” she said.
All Anna could manage was a sad smile. Nothing could bring back the innocents they had been.
The butler brought in a tray of mulled wine with a plate of ginger biscuits, and the rest of the party seated themselves around the fire, a cozy foursome. Years ago, this would have been a dream for her; now, it was torture. She could not look at Alex.
Isabella rose suddenly, bringing the men to their feet. “I am feeling tired after the journey. I will have my maid put out a nightgown and some other things for you,” she said to Anna.
“Thank you,” Anna replied, and also stood to leave. The situation was so awkward.
Edmund took Isabella’s arm and they left the room. Anna turned to follow, but Alex delayed her with his hand on her arm.
“Will you stay a little longer?”
“I am feeling tired, myself,” she prevaricated, aware she would not