Felicity.
The chest was full of lace, beautiful lace, old and yellow now, but still possessing the power to amaze. She carefully lifted out a tablecloth and napkins, tracing over the delicate design with one finger, almost afraid to touch it. I wonder if any of this is salvageable? she thought as she set it aside and turned her attention back to the chest.
There was a smaller tablecloth, and then a christening dress. She sighed with pleasure and held it up, admiring the tiny stitches in the wool and the lace edging around the tiny cuffs and hem. How many generations of babies have worn this? she wondered. And what a pity it is to stick it unused in a chest. She looked about her at the shelves and chests, full to bursting with so much to offer. Such bounty for an empty house, she thought.
She heard firm footsteps in the hall outside, and looked up from her contemplation of the christening gown in her lap. She smiled. It was Lord Winn.
"Good afternoon, my lord," she said, and put her finger to her lips, indicating Felicity with a nod of her head.
He was dressed in riding clothes, the top boots and leather breeches of the country gentleman he was, his coat open and his neckcloth comfortably loose. You don't stand much on ceremony, do you? she thought as her glance took in his graying brown hair, with the indent where his hat had rested, and his handsome green eyes. I did not notice before how green they were, she thought as she returned his smile with one of her own. He was just tall enough, and just broad enough to look substantial, without any suggestion of overweight. You look healthy, she thought, and then blushed at such a foolish observation.
"'Now what did I do to make you blush?" he whispered, coming closer.
She shook her head in confusion, not about to admit to her thoughts. "I am still embarrassed over my piece of foolishness yesterday," she murmured. There. He didn't need to know that she was measuring him, and not finding him wanting in any way.
"Already forgotten, Mrs. Drew," he said cheerfully, then peered at Felicity. "Nice mittens."
"She refuses to take them off, except for meals," Roxanna said, happy to change the subject.
He shook his head and grinned at her. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the bit of lace in her lap.
She held it up for him to admire. "It is a christening gown, my lord. Imagine all those little stitches for one wearing."
"Beyond me," he said. "Most children should be drowned at birth, anyway."
"Lord Winn!" she exclaimed, then pursed her lips when he told her to shush and looked at Felicity.
"I have already told you my opinion of children," he whispered. "I intend never to have any." He watched Lissy. "She won't take them off, eh? Did you make them too tight?"
She put her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. "No! Lissy finds you 'top 'o the trees,' my lord. If she were a puppy, she would follow you from room to room, I am sure! It's a good thing for you that your stay here is not long."
He nodded. "I suppose," he said, without any particular enthusiasm.
The silence made her uncomfortable, but he did not seem to notice as he walked around the little room, his hands behind his back. "Damned lot of sheets," he commented finally, when he finished his circuit. "Take anything you want, Mrs. Drew."
"I could not—" she began.
"Of course you can," he insisted. "Take that christening gown, too. You'll likely marry again won't you, Mrs. Drew? You'll find a use for it, unless I am grossly overestimating the abilities of most Yorkmen."
"I—I hadn't really thought of it," she stammered in confusion.
"I'm sure that once you are out of black, the men of the North Riding won't waste any time," he said, and strolled back into the hall, leaving her to stew in her muddled thoughts.
Roxanna blinked and stared after him. You have such a nice walk, Lord Winn, she considered as she watched him. It's somewhere between a saunter and a... Oh, Lord, Roxie, mind your thoughts.
She
The chest was full of lace, beautiful lace, old and yellow now, but still possessing the power to amaze. She carefully lifted out a tablecloth and napkins, tracing over the delicate design with one finger, almost afraid to touch it. I wonder if any of this is salvageable? she thought as she set it aside and turned her attention back to the chest.
There was a smaller tablecloth, and then a christening dress. She sighed with pleasure and held it up, admiring the tiny stitches in the wool and the lace edging around the tiny cuffs and hem. How many generations of babies have worn this? she wondered. And what a pity it is to stick it unused in a chest. She looked about her at the shelves and chests, full to bursting with so much to offer. Such bounty for an empty house, she thought.
She heard firm footsteps in the hall outside, and looked up from her contemplation of the christening gown in her lap. She smiled. It was Lord Winn.
"Good afternoon, my lord," she said, and put her finger to her lips, indicating Felicity with a nod of her head.
He was dressed in riding clothes, the top boots and leather breeches of the country gentleman he was, his coat open and his neckcloth comfortably loose. You don't stand much on ceremony, do you? she thought as her glance took in his graying brown hair, with the indent where his hat had rested, and his handsome green eyes. I did not notice before how green they were, she thought as she returned his smile with one of her own. He was just tall enough, and just broad enough to look substantial, without any suggestion of overweight. You look healthy, she thought, and then blushed at such a foolish observation.
"'Now what did I do to make you blush?" he whispered, coming closer.
She shook her head in confusion, not about to admit to her thoughts. "I am still embarrassed over my piece of foolishness yesterday," she murmured. There. He didn't need to know that she was measuring him, and not finding him wanting in any way.
"Already forgotten, Mrs. Drew," he said cheerfully, then peered at Felicity. "Nice mittens."
"She refuses to take them off, except for meals," Roxanna said, happy to change the subject.
He shook his head and grinned at her. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the bit of lace in her lap.
She held it up for him to admire. "It is a christening gown, my lord. Imagine all those little stitches for one wearing."
"Beyond me," he said. "Most children should be drowned at birth, anyway."
"Lord Winn!" she exclaimed, then pursed her lips when he told her to shush and looked at Felicity.
"I have already told you my opinion of children," he whispered. "I intend never to have any." He watched Lissy. "She won't take them off, eh? Did you make them too tight?"
She put her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. "No! Lissy finds you 'top 'o the trees,' my lord. If she were a puppy, she would follow you from room to room, I am sure! It's a good thing for you that your stay here is not long."
He nodded. "I suppose," he said, without any particular enthusiasm.
The silence made her uncomfortable, but he did not seem to notice as he walked around the little room, his hands behind his back. "Damned lot of sheets," he commented finally, when he finished his circuit. "Take anything you want, Mrs. Drew."
"I could not—" she began.
"Of course you can," he insisted. "Take that christening gown, too. You'll likely marry again won't you, Mrs. Drew? You'll find a use for it, unless I am grossly overestimating the abilities of most Yorkmen."
"I—I hadn't really thought of it," she stammered in confusion.
"I'm sure that once you are out of black, the men of the North Riding won't waste any time," he said, and strolled back into the hall, leaving her to stew in her muddled thoughts.
Roxanna blinked and stared after him. You have such a nice walk, Lord Winn, she considered as she watched him. It's somewhere between a saunter and a... Oh, Lord, Roxie, mind your thoughts.
She
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