How long have I been in love with her?Colin wondered as he started playing, more nervous than he could remember being since his childhood days, back when his music teacher occasionally had him play for his parents.
As the music wove its enchanting web around the two of them, his wife put her head on his shoulder. The emotion this provoked inside him startled him so much that he actually made a mistake in his fingering.
“Oh, I am sorry,” she said and jerked away, “I must be impeding your movements like this.”
“No, you’re not,” he stopped playing and turned to her, vehement in his denial. “You can leave your head if you’d like.”
“Only if you are certain.”
“I am,” he nodded resolutely, and she gently returned her little head to its rightful place on his strong shoulder.
Talbot felt like his chest was swelling from too much feeling, and he feared he was in actual peril of losing his life over a bundleof curls and a fine-boned skull whose weight felt like a little bird was perched on his shoulder.
When he finished playing, the room was silent and motionless.
Has she fallen asleep?He wondered.
He didn’t dare move. Elizabeth lifted her head and gave him a sleepy smile.
“It was wonderful, thank you. You were not exaggerating your proficiency.”
“I never do.”
She stood up and pressed her right ear to her shoulder before wincing in pain.
“Why didn’t you move if you were uncomfortable?” Talbot chastised her as he got up from the bench as well.
“I was comfortable!” she protested, then averted her eyes, adding, “not physically.”
Colin understood what she implied and was inordinately pleased by it, not that one could tell from his stern face.
“Let us go to bed before you further injure yourself.”
“I’m nowhere near injured, Talbot, stop treating me like an invalid.” She smiled as they walked side by side, her impertinent little ungloved hand brushing against his again.
“You’ve strained your neck, and the nights are draughty, especially in old manors such as this one. You might suffer a spasm.”
“Oh, do you know what one of the dairy maids told me?”
“When and why did you converse with a dairymaid?”
Lizzie stopped in her tracks.
“Yesterday. I was curious.”
“Hm,” he said, stepping closer to her and winding one of the curls that had escaped her hairdo around his index finger, “you do act like a curious little kitten. Did you know that you also tend to touch things a lot?”
Her eyelids fluttered, and she took a small step back.
“Will you let me tell you?”
Talbot smiled and held out his palm to indicate that they should proceed upstairs.
“Her name is Susan,” Lizzie continued excitedly as they walked on, “and she told me that her father’s aunt froze to death coming home from the market one night, twenty-five years ago! Can you believe that?”
He nodded gravely. “I, too, have heard such stories, and I’ve experienced several winters here myself, so I fully believe her account. As a child, I’d wake up and the water in my washbasin would be frozen, despite having gone to bed with a blazing fire in my room.”
Lizzie shuddered.
