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"I'm sure it would be beautiful, but completely out of place in Hunter's home. He lives in a house he built himself out of tree limbs and bark. It's actually very cozy, but not a good place to show off silver teapots."
Stunned by the description of her future residence, Randolph placed his hand over hers. "Oh, Alanna, are you going to be happy living there?"
"Were you happy with your wife?"
Randolph nodded. "Very."
"Then you can understand how little a house matters. It's who shares it that's important, not how grand it is."
Randolph could certainly agree with that statement, because he had not realized how empty his life was until she had entered it. "Yes, and I hope you enjoy every day you spend here with me."
Alanna could not mistake the longing in his voice, but she smiled as though his comment were merely that of an attentive host. "Thank you again. I'm sure I will."
* * *
Alanna wanted to wear the white dress adorned with violets to church on Sunday, but fearing it would be seen as disrespectful to Elliott's memory, she chose a plain blue gown instead. As they had the day of the funeral, she and Randolph arrived just as the congregation was entering the church, and took seats in the very last pew. That did not prevent curious glances from being directed their way, however. Uncomfortably aware of the constant low murmurings their presence provoked, they left before the priest pronounced the benediction.
"I don't understand why people are so quick to condemn our friendship," Randolph complained. "You're in need of a place to stay, and I've provided it. That doesn't constitute a sin."
"That people are so quick to see evil instead of good is horribly discouraging, isn't it? Hunter and I were unable to win my aunt and uncle's sympathy and understanding. I can't expect more from people who barely know me, or strangers, than I do from them. Fortunately, I don't have to remain here in Williamsburg forever, Randolph, but you do. I'm going to move out of your house next week."
"No, I won't allow it."
Astonished he apparently thought he had that right, Alanna spoke clearly. "I'm neither your daughter nor your wife, and while I appreciate your concern, I have to make my own decisions." They were walking toward Charity's, and as they reached her gate, Alanna turned toward her now sullen companion. "You were absolutely right about this house being too small for Charity and her family. I'm going to ask her if she would like to share a larger place with me."
Randolph seized upon his first inspiration to discourage the idea. "She may own this place, Alanna, and if she does, she'd be insulted by such a suggestion. After all, it's her home."
Pleased by his comment, Alanna nevertheless appeared to think about it a moment before replying. "You're right again, and I don't want to risk insulting her. Do you suppose you might make a discreet inquiry as to whether or not she owns the property, while I'm playing with Christian? You're blessed with an abundance of tact, and I know you could do it without arousing her suspicions."
"But I've just met the woman," Randolph protested.
"Yes, that's why your questions will seem the natural curiosity of a new acquaintance." Giving him no more time to ponder her plan, she attempted to hide her smile as she preceded him up the walk.
Striving to look her best, Charity was dressed in a rust-colored gown, which provided a superb complement to her auburn hair. It was far from new, but clean and pressed, and flattering to her slender figure. Her children were also carefully groomed and dressed in their finest apparel. She welcomed Alanna and Randolph to her home, offered tea and cookies, but apologized for Christian.
"I'm afraid he's still asleep. He loves the rattle you made for him, sir. It hasn't been out of his hands since Mrs. Hunter gave it to him."
Randolph had had such a quick glimpse of Charity on his initial visit to her home, that he was quite pleasantly surprised to find her far more attractive than he had first imagined.
When her children went out onto the porch to play, and Alanna went into the bedroom to see Christian, he found talking with her not nearly as disagreeable a task as he had feared.
"I was born here," he said, "but I know we hadn't met until just the other day. How long have you and your family lived in Williamsburg?"
Charity had to give her full attention to pouring his tea, and waited until after she had filled the cup and handed it to him to reply. "I was born in Philadelphia, but moved here ten years ago when Thomas and I married. He was a cooper, and worked for several of the plantations. We had hoped to buy some land and
have a farm of our own one day, but he took sick and died. That was the end of our dreams."
Randolph was leaning forward slightly, wearing an expression of concerned interest, but Charity feared she was boring him, and grew even more flustered than she already was. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm just rambling. I spend most of my time with the children, and talking to adults is difficult for me. I'm afraid I don't have anything more to say."
Charity's innocent sweetness reminded Randolph of Alanna, and he was charmed by her shyness. He knew Alanna was so desperately in love with her husband she scarcely noticed him, and it was immensely satisfying to meet a woman with similar qualities who appeared to be free. "I know exactly what you mean," he agreed. "When people come into my shop, they ask questions about the merchandise, or make special requests, so my conversations all tend to have a similar ring. Then I meet a lovely young woman like you, and it's difficult for me to know what to say."
It had been such a long while since anyone had referred to Charity as either young or lovely, that she could not help but blush. "Really, Mr. O'Neil, I'm not used to that kind of flattery."
"What a shame. How long has your husband been gone?"
"It will be four years come December."
"I'm a widower myself. Although my daughter is grown, I know how difficult it is to raise children alone."
