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All meanly wrapped in swathing bands
And in a manger laid….”
She stopped abruptly, no doubt feeling his gaze on her. She turned around on the piano stool and smiled at him. “I did not know anyone was listening,” she said, looking a little embarrassed.
“I was distracted by the sound of your voice coming down the hall. It was very pretty. Please continue,” he said, motioning to the piano. He approached her, hoping she would not be too embarrassed to go on.
“I did not mean to disrupt anyone. It is just that you said I could come in here and play—”
Simon hurried to close the distance between them. “Oh, please, yes. Come and play anytime you like. I assure you, you will not disrupt anyone. No, the distraction was a very good one, as I was seeing to various details for the feast for St Thomas Day. It is mostly done.” He stood beside her, and a pause ensued. He remembered himself and went on. “Will you play something else for me?”
Ellen nodded, thinking for a moment. She then scooted over on the stool. “Sit down,” she said. He took her up on her offer, and she began to play.
He was unfamiliar with the tune, but as she began to hum, he could not help but watch her mouth. Her full, pink lips looked so inviting. It was the first time he allowed himself to dwell on thoughts of what it might be to kiss her.
Memories flooded his mind, drawing him back to the days he had first started to develop feelings for her, childish as they had been. His love had grown over the last month, growing and deepening into something that was even better than he had imagined. How had he been lucky enough to marry her?
When she finished her song, she let the last notes echo through the room as if an awed hush had come over them. She then looked up at him, waiting for his thoughts.
“That was beautiful,” he said, his voice low and husky.
“Thank you.”
She did not take her eyes from his, and he leaned in to kiss her. Their lips were almost touching when the door suddenly opened. He hung his head and then leaned away. His mother poked her head into the room, noticing how close they were sitting.
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” she said and quickly started out.
Ellen stood and called after her. “Mother Grant, please. Is there something I can help with?” she asked. Her shaky tone was not lost on him. He stood, trying not to let his disappointment show.
“Oh, I was only coming to ask if you might want to help me with the arrangement for the party on Thursday. But I can come back later,” she replied, eyeing Simon with an apologetic nod.
“No, please, I would be glad to help. I will be with you in a moment,” Ellen replied. Simon did not want to get in the way of Ellen settling into her duties. It was a significant thing, indeed, that his mother had asked her to be involved in the planning.
“I will be in the small library, whenever it is convenient for you to join me,” his mother said and hurried out of the room.
Ellen turned around after she had gone, looking embarrassed and not a little disappointed herself. “Well, I suppose I should not keep her waiting.” She turned to walk away, but he reached out and grabbed her hand before she could get too far away. She returned to him, and he saw the tinge of colour rising in her throat and cheeks.
“I enjoyed your playing. Was it an original piece?” He asked.
“It is a song I have been working on for the holidays. It is not finished yet—” she said with a self-deprecating shrug.
“It is wonderful. I would not change a thing, unless you mean to add a verse. The words and the melody go perfectly together,” Simon encouraged. “I hope you will show it to me again when it is finished.”
Ellen smiled. “Perhaps we might work on it together?” she offered.
His heart warmed at her suggestion. He not only wanted to be a bystander when it came to her dreams but an active participant in seeing them fulfilled. “I should be very happy to. I am no lyricist, but I would be happy to offer any insight if it might be helpful.”
This seemed to please her, and she nodded, letting go of his hand reluctantly. She followed his mother out the door and was soon gone, but her song played in his mind through the rest of the afternoon like a sweet, haunting melody that left him wanting more.
Chapter 25
A week later, Ellen was walking down the hall on the main floor when she heard someone mumbling to themselves. She stopped at the library door and looked inside. Simon was sitting near the window, whispering to himself as he read aloud. She frowned slightly and then smiled as she made her way noiselessly to him. She could not see what he was reading, but from the sound of his voice, he was having to concentrate quite a bit of energy.
Ellen clasped her hands behind her back and leaned forward. “What is this?” she asked.
She did not expect Simon’s reaction, but he jumped, and the book fell out of his hands. He swung around, nearly knocking her over. “Ellen!” he exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest. “I did not hear you come in.”
