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Samuel caught her hand. He came up on his knees beside her.
“You have graphite on your lip.”
He smoothed his thumb over the spot.
Ellie stared at him, still somewhat amazed that such a handsome, upright, intelligent man loved her. At least she knew she deserved him. She’d saved him.
“Isn’t this composition based on the tune you invented to hum to our daughters?” he asked, his attention riveted on Ellie’s lips.
“It is.”
“Then, having heard that, I can assure you that this,” without looking away from her, he tapped her journal, “will be wonderful.”
Ellie looped an arm around his neck.
“You can assure me of that, Samuel Carmichael?”
He nodded. “I can.”
“What else can you tell me?”
“That I want to kiss you.”
Finding that a more than reasonable desire, Ellie pulled his head down to meet hers.
“Mama, Papa,” a squealing voice called.
They both turned to find their older daughter, named Regina in honour of the Dowager, running across the meadow. She smiled so wide, Ellie wondered if butterflies would end up in her mouth, for she stood only a bit taller than the flowers. In her wake came the nanny, carrying their younger daughter, May.
“Mama, Papa,” Reggie called again, pelting up the hillside. “Uncle Richard and Aunt Yvette sent a package.” She held up her hands to show that she clutched a paper wrapped box. “Can we open it? Can we? Do you think there’s sweets inside?”
Ellie laughed. “I do not believe they would dare send a package without sweets. Was there a letter?”
Reggie skidded to a halt before them, then dropped to her knees on the blanket.
“Nanny Sara has the letter.” She shook the box. “Can we open it?”
Samuel adopted a serious expression. “Shouldn’t we wait for your sister?”
“She’s too little for sweets.”
“Is she now? I seem to recall you eating sweets when you were one.”
“I’m very grown up,” Reggie said with all the seriousness a three-year-old possessed.
“That is true,” Samuel agreed.
Ellie let out a mock gasp. “I cannot believe the two of you, plotting to keep sweets from May. Next, you’ll want my share.”
Reggie turned wide eyes on her. “You don’t eat sweets, Mama.”
Ellie raised her eyebrows. “I don’t?”
Still very grave, Reggie shook her head.
“Oh dear. That’s rather sad for me, isn’t it?”
Her daughter nodded.
