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Anna listened to him and found, to her surprise, that what he had to say was interesting.

“Thank you.” Anna shuddered. “I vow I shall never touch alcohol again for the rest of my life.”

His laughter sounded like a low rumble, not at all unpleasant. “Moderation is the answer. A glass of wine a day won’t do any harm.”

“And this?” She stepped up to the shelf and peered at another unshapely object swimming in some murky liquid.

“Ah. This is one of my most treasured possessions.” He lifted the jar with a gentle, almost reverent touch. “Can you guess what it might be?”

Anna stared, utterly clueless.

“It is a heart.” There was pride and wonder in his voice. “The core of the human body. The force that drives us, the giver of life itself. It is truly a miracle.”

“The heart,” Anna whispered, involuntarily placing a hand over her chest. She stared at the misshapen, discoloured organ in the jar. “One can hardly believe that this could be the seat of all emotions.”

“Ah.” He shot her a thoughtful glance. “Yes. That is the common belief. Though I suspect the brain plays a greater role in governing our emotions, it is the heart we regard as the source of all feelings such as joy, sadness…” He hesitated before his voice lowered, adding, “love.”

“Love,” she echoed.

His eyes were on her, intent and unusually soft, with a question lingering in their depth. The air between them seemed to thicken and Anna nearly forgot to breathe.

What? she wanted to ask. What are you asking?

“Would you like to listen to it?” he asked, breaking the silence.

She blinked. “Listen to what?”

“The heart.” He pulled out a smooth, cylindrical wooden tube. “With this.”

She tilted her head aside. “What is that?”

“It is a remarkable invention by a Frenchman named Laennec. He calls it a stethoscope. With one end placed on the heart and the other end to the ear, it amplifies the heart’s rhythm. It is miraculous.”

“I would like that very much. How does it work?”

He placed the tube against his chest and motioned her closer. “Listen at the other end.”

After some hesitation, she carefully pressed her ear against the other end of the tube.

Her eyes widened as she heard the steady, rhythmic beat.

“Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“Exactly,” he replied softly.

It was the most comforting sound she’d ever heard. Strong. Calming. Steady. The oldest sound in the universe. The first sound a child heard in its mother’s womb.

Suddenly, she became aware of how closely they were standing; she felt the warmth radiating from his body, the rise and fall of his breath, which seemed to have quickened. He towered over her, his chest nearly at the level of her head.

Flustered, she blinked and quickly stepped back, straightening her spine.

“Well. That was…fascinating.” Her voice was a little shaky. Then, she added in a brighter tone, “You should teach this somewhere, maybe at our seminary? You’d make an excellent instructor.”

He turned to return the jar to the shelf. When he faced her again, his face was neutral and his eyes distant and polite. “Indeed, I have been considering it. Though I doubt a girls’ school would be the appropriate place for me to teach.” A smile flitted over his face and a dimple appeared and disappeared in his left cheek so quickly she thought she’d imagined it.

“Thank you for listening to me ramble on about my passion,” he said when they left the room, leaving her wondering what exactly he meant. His little lecture on anatomy or…his heart.

Chapter 9