Page 61 of The Wise Daughter
“He’s for me?” Nora smiled and rubbed the kitten behind the ears. “You dear little thing!”
Aaron leaned close. “I don’t suppose you are referring to me, are you?”
After one more nuzzle, she lowered the kitten to her lap where she could more easily pet him. “Aaron, this really isn’t fair, softening me with a kitten when I was determined to be cross with you.”
“Is that all? I was worried you didn’t like cats.”
“I hope you understand that giving me this adorable little fellow doesn’t change the fact that our problems remain unsettled. I won’t change my mind about our engagement. We must catch the thieves before we wed.”
She waited for him to renew their argument from the previous night, but instead, he flashed her a mischievous grin and shrugged, lightly whipping the reins.
“You can’t blame me for trying.”
Nora found she liked the way he drove the curricle. He was courteous whenever someone needed to cross the road, and he deftly maneuvered tight spaces and corners. She felt safe with him holding the reins.
Once the road carried them beyond the village shops, Aaron pointed out other prominent features. “That way lies ruins of an old Roman bath house, and when you reach the shore, you see a host of fishing boats hauling in their morning catches.”
He eventually brought them to a shady lane with barely enough room for the curricle to pass through, but it allowed Nora to pluck loose leaves for the kitten to play with.
“Where are we going, Aaron?”
He winked at her. “It’s a surprise. It will take us nearly half an hour to arrive, so we have some time to talk.”
The kitten nipped at Nora’s fingers. “What do you wish to discuss?”
He cleared his throat. She could feel him stiffen and shift in the seat though he kept the reins steady. “We could talk about the weather or our favorite foods, or we can talk about our engagement.” He carefully steered the curricle down the narrow lane. “Do you regret our engagement, Nora?”
Her heart swelled with emotion and her mouth went dry. The kitten looked up at her, his head tilted curiously to the side as if waiting to hear her answer.
“Regret isn’t the word. I tried to explain it to you last night. The order of this is all wrong.”
The kitten dug its little claws into her gown until she plucked him up and wrapped him in the cloth again.
“Nora, you said last night that there is still much you do not know about me. I’d like to change that. This is your chance. Ask me anything you like.”
Why was it, Nora wondered, that in the precise moment when she needed to recall all the matters she had been wondering about, she forgot everything?
She asked the first question that came to mind. “Why do you never play the pianoforte?”
He slumped in his seat and ran a hand down his face. “I should have known you would start with a challenging question.”
In truth, she had not expected it to be a challenge.
“I don’t know. I haven’t played in years. My mother taught me. I’m not very skilled at it. She left before I could really master it. Playing the pianoforte always leaves me feeling unsatisfied.”
“So you feel incomplete when you play.”
She could see him stiffen. “That is one way to say it.”
Nora thought about reminding him of how much she missed her own mother, of how awful those first moments were, realizing she would never see her again. She wanted so much to demonstrate how well she understood, but perhaps because she did understand, Nora didn’t say anything at all. Instead, she slipped her arm through his and gave his arm a quick hug.
“Do you still consider yourself in mourning for your mother?” He looked over her mud-stained lavender gown that she had insisted on wearing.
She lifted the kitten to her cheek again, its soft feathery fur caressing her skin. “It’s been over a year, but coming out of mourning never feels right.”
“You mourn too much while I don’t mourn enough.”
“The truth is we both mourn,” she said gently. “I don’t think there is any proper way to measure the sorrow we experience in our hearts.” The kitten mewed a pitiful cry. “Aaron, he’s hungry.”
