“Which is why no one shall learn,” Mrs. Pembroke stated calmly.
Anna looked at her. “But a marriage must be recorded.”
Mrs. Pembroke smiled. “It will be witnessed before God and before two people of sound mind, and kept safe until the day it may be spoken aloud.” Mrs. Pembroke’s mouth thinned. “The law may have its paper in due course. Heaven, I daresay, can manage the rest.”
Anna’s eyes filled with tears.
Mrs. Pembroke gave her a tender look. “You need not marry him because there is danger or even because he asks or that I’ve arranged anything. Though I do hate wasting arrangements.”
A laugh slipped from Anna and her shoulders shook with it.
Mrs. Pembroke took both her hands. “You marry him only if you choose him.”
Anna closed her hands around Mrs. Pembroke’s. Men died while waiting for peace to make room for happiness. Women waited beside windows until hope wore thin. The world offered no safe hour. No perfect season. No promise that tomorrow would be kinder than today.
Anna thought of Nathaniel in the parlor, standing calm beneath suspicion. She thought of him in the lane, hurting her to save her. And at the garden door, asking permission for a future he might never be allowed to claim. She thought of the locket, sentimental enough to hide danger, important enough to carry truth.
She drew one careful breath. “I choose him.”
Mrs. Pembroke smiled. It was small. Almost secret. “Good,” she said. “Then wash your face. You look like a girl who’s been crying over furniture.”
Thirteen
By sundown the next day, Anna’s hands had become useless. She dropped two pins, tangled the blue ribbon, and nearly put on her apron inside out before Mercy took it from her with a sound of despair.
“Anna Turner, are you sure you are well? You look as though you might either faint or bite someone. It’s not because there’s still laundry to hang, is it? I’m sorry I got done with it so late.”
“That’s a wide range of possibilities,” Anna said still fumbling with the ribbon.
Mercy narrowed her eyes. “Something is happening.”
Anna looked at her friend and wished the world were different. She wanted to tell Mercy she was about to marry a man most people thought a British courier, that the locket had returned, and the folded paper hidden in it would be proof of a promise until the war ended. But secrets kept people alive.
Anna reached for Mercy’s hands. “Something good.”
Mercy searched her face and smiled. “Then I’m glad. Best wear the blue ribbon properly, or whatever good thing it is will take one look at you and lose confidence.”
Anna laughed.
Mercy tied the ribbon for her, then adjusted the cap over Anna’s hair. “There. You look less like a haunted napkin.”
“Thank you,” Anna said with a smile.
Mercy put a hand over her chest and stood straighter. “I am an excellent friend.”
“You are.”
Mercy’s smile faded into something gentler. “Be happy, Anna.”
Anna’s throat tightened. “I mean to try.”
“No. Be happy. It’s allowed, you know, even now.”
Without thinking, Anna hugged her.
Mrs. Pembroke appeared at the door. “Anna.”
Mercy stepped out of her embrace while Mrs. Pembroke looked Anna over. She gave one firm nod and turned. “Come with me.”
