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Her friend giggled. “You a

re far more prepared than you think. Your beginnings may have been…simple, but you are a natural, dear Anna, and if anyone should know that ’twould be me, surely.” She crouched beside Anna, a spry smile in her eyes. “And I should expect that Henry will be remarkably pleased when he learns that you made this evening’s lamb.”

Anna turned her head. “Who’s Henry?”

Kitty’s face slackened, a sheen of white pasting her cheeks before they brightened once again the next second. She pushed to her feet and went to take the chair Anna had first offered. “Did I say Henry? How silly of me, my mind is all a jumble these days.” Clearing her throat, Kitty nodded toward the basket. “Shall we begin?”

Anna’s stomach churned. “Kitty, I fear you put too much confidence in me.”

“Nonsense.” Kitty sat straight with her hands upon her knees. “I shall sit here and give you instructions. Thus you may say in all honesty that you fashioned this meal without the help of my hands.” She rested her back against the chair, her dainty mouth swooped to one side. “And we shall have the pleasure of chatting while it cooks. If it turns out well, then I shall be sure to give you the credit. If it does not, the blame will be mine.”

A sprite chuckle bounced through Anna’s chest. “No one would ever believe you capable of a failed meal.”

“There’s a first for everything, is there not?” She smirked then pulled back, a contorted type of grimace to her face. She put a hand against her chest and squinted, breathing out the obvious discomfort until her expression released the folds of tension.

Anna reached for her. “Kitty, are you unwell?”

Kitty looked up and breathed again through tight lips. “Aye, forgive me.”

Anna reached for the pitcher and offered Kitty a cup, but she waved it away.

“These discomforts come and go,” Kitty said. “I only hope it will not last much longer.”

“Discomforts? Surely your husband has told you what ails you.”

Kitty looked to her hands then back at Anna, her mouth hiding a smile. “He knows nothing of this.”

Anna neared, alarm pricking her center. “Are you not concerned you may be ill? If these discomforts you speak of are something—”

“I am with child.”

Anna flung her hands to her mouth as an excited chirp pierced the air. She threw her arms around Kitty. “Oh, Kitty, I am so pleased. Nathaniel will be beside himself, I’m sure.” She released her hold and tugged the unoccupied chair near Kitty’s and sat with their knees touching. “But how do you know? Can you be sure—you have spoken to Eliza, of course.”

Kitty nodded. “I spoke with her this morning and she confirmed my suspicions.”

With child.

“I could not be more pleased for you, Kitty.” Anna pressed her teeth together. Battling the hurt that charged its way through her spirit, she displayed the years of polished pretend—not a hint of grief would she show, though the pain of it stabbed like a dagger. Such a truth could not mar the happiness of one who had become like a sister to her.

Beaming, Kitty gripped Anna’s hand and rose to her feet. “I cannot wait to see his face. I plan to tell him this evening, though I have not determined the best time. I shall know it when it is upon us, I suppose.” Her expression softened as a day-dreaminess took ownership of her eyes, as if inwardly she imagined her husband’s face, the bewilderment and happy surprise that would brighten his countenance, and how he would take her in his arms, kiss her mouth and whisper low in her ear that he would love her—and their child—always.

Anna stilled, her throat swelling. Though worn soft after so many years of stroking, the silver treasure of her own dreams refused to be forgotten, no matter how deep in the corridors of her heart she secured it. Hope carried it forward, where she, never willing to tarnish such beauty with the pain of truth, would polish the vain wishes ’til they all but breathed. Releasing a pained sigh, Anna once more abandoned the dream in the dark inner halls of her spirit where her grief and pains refused to perish.

Pushing forward, Anna pressed a kiss to Kitty’s cheek. “Well, you shall remain seated then, as determined.” Removing the lamb from the basket, Anna unwrapped the large leg and rested it on the table. With a huff, she placed her hands on her hips. “I should think William will be heartily surprised to learn I have attempted such a meal.”

“All the more reason for him to be pleased he chose you as his wife.”

Anna shook her head, staring at the pink mound on the table, trying to focus her attentions on the meat and not the man with whom she shared a bed, and little more. “William didn’t choose me. We needed each other for our different reasons…” Reaching for the knife, she sighed. “But I do hope that he will be pleased with me…more than I can say.”

Kitty rested her hands in her lap, her head inclined. “Do you not believe he cares for you?”

After a quick shrug, Anna started into the lamb. “I have no way to be sure.”

Only that one sacred time, that moment when…She shook her head when an inner voice chimed. How many looks and touches of his hand, how many smiles has he gifted you? They cannot mean nothing.

Kitty raised a single brow, a serious slant to her mouth. “I have known your husband for some time. I can say with all honestly I have never seen his smile so warm or his eyes so bright as when he looks at you. A man cannot bestow such devotions without harboring feelings of love.”

Anna continued to cut into the lamb, as if her friend’s words didn’t echo through her silly, hopeful heart. “William is a good man. He offers the same kind smiles to everyone.”

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