Chapter 21
Ana stepped into the dining room, but her quick, excited pace was stopped entirely by the delightful vista that met her.
In the time they had been upstairs, the room had been transformed into the most magical of holiday scenes.
The few decorative greenery boughs that the household had put up for earlier celebrations had already been taken down and burned, as was tradition.
(Ana had heard murmured words from Mrs. Thompson about bad luck and a goblin, and she had no wish to tempt fate in that regard.) But these new decorations were something entirely unique.
An impressive collection of candles brightened the center of the table.
There were thin, spindly candles and short, stout candles, and even a few decorative ones in elegant, glass holders.
But even though the candles were mismatched in their great variety, they didn’t look haphazard in the least. Their nearness helped the table to look like it held a great collection of stars.
The light and the warmth from the display warmed Ana, inside and out.
Above the table, delightfully bright ribbons were secured to the bottom of the chandelier and twisted downward in a cascade of ruby red, emerald green, deep plum, and rich ocher.
Hot spiced wine glittered in glasses, giving a jewel-like appearance to the table spread.
The estate’s finest dishes and silver were set with great care in an arrangement just for the two of them.
Between their plates sat a golden cake, topped with intricate, white icing, appearing for all the world to be a real length of French lace.
Ana sat heavily at the table, completely awed. How had Peter arranged for all of this when he had only just arrived home? She had made some arrangements of her own to commemorate el Día de los Inocentes, but nothing on this scale.
Again, his surprising thoughtfulness struck her.
Peter did not often exude any sort of emotional softness, at least not when she was first coming to know him.
His logical mind seemed to rule his decisions, and his life was planned with precise intention.
The role of soldier had seemed to fit him perfectly then.
He knew his responsibilities. His rules and limitations were drawn so very clearly.
And none of this allowed for overly caring acts of tenderness, not to mention the mind-numbing kisses that he had bestowed on her as of late.
He was changing. Or perhaps he was just revealing to her more of who he truly was.
And tonight was another excellent example of that.
“I see you’ve already found part of our celebrations,” Peter whispered, soft and low in her ear.
He buried a kiss at the back of her neck.
Tingles ran down Ana’s spine, and her heart pounded wildly.
It seemed his words now had just as much power over her as his touch.
What a weakness she had for him already.
“It is so hermoso, Pedro. Gracias.”
She rose and turned to greet him, clasping her hands together so as to hide their trembling. Was it nervousness? Excitement? She would never know because within an instant, her hands were captured by his.
“I don’t know how you accomplish todo eso.” Ana tilted her head, gesturing at the stunning display.
“Oh, I hardly lifted a finger, truly. Mrs. Thompson was delighted to use her creativity to decorate without the holiday evergreens. It is bad luck, you know. And Elena helped by gathering the candles. Said it would give a nice religious touch. Or perhaps she said romantic.” He winked, chuckling as he brushed a kiss on her forehead.
“Best of all, Cook has prepared a special Twelfth Night cake for you.”
“Ah, qué delicioso! She knows how I love cake so much!”
“Yes, but this cake is particularly special. It is a fruit cake, as is tradition for the holiday season, but it has a dried bean baked into it. Whoever happens to find the slice of cake with the dried bean inside will be proclaimed the king or queen of the Twelfth Night celebrations and will be able to dictate how we celebrate for the evening, be it in the form of games or dance or song or whatever pleases them.”
“Qué buenísimo! I love this tradition!”
“So, shall we start our evening of celebrations by enjoying a slice of this cake?”
“Por supuesto! But of course!”
Peter helped Ana into her chair and then pushed it, moving her closer to the table. The warmth of vanilla and sugar mingled in the air as she leaned in close to the cake.
“It is so beautiful, this cake. Can we really cut it?”
“We must. How else will we discover who will be the king or queen for the evening?”
“Es verdad. I would very much like to be la reina.”
Peter cut a thin piece for Ana, who quickly spooned through the soft bake in search of the bean, but it was not there. “Nothing here.”
He then proceeded to cut up the entire cake until, with a knowing grin, he handed her the last, large piece. Sure enough, the bean was embedded in the side of the slice, right near the bottom.
“I found it! I win!” Ana laughed, the freeing sound rippling through her.
“And so do I. It will be delightful to watch you rule,” he said with a wink.
“Ay qué power to be queen. Does this mean I rule you too, Pedro?”
“You already do, Your Highness. You are the queen of my heart.” Peter slapped a hand against his heart and saluted in an exaggerated, humorous motion, but something about the brightness of his eyes told Ana that he wasn’t entirely joking.
And that caused her breath to catch in her throat, caused tears to spring to her eyes, caused her legs to tremble.
Why was it so terrifying to imagine being loved?
Ana needed something to distract herself, and fast. She sprang from her chair, sticking a finger in the air and tipping her chin up in a self-important pose.
“As la reina, I declare that we begin the noche with a game.”
“And what game would you wish to play, Your Highness?”
Ana tapped her chin. She hadn’t thought that far. “What you think, my king?”
“Well, Your Majesty, what say you of a rousing game of hide and seek to begin our evening of festivities?”
“Hide and seek?”
“Indeed, where the designated individual hides themselves and then the rest ‘seek’ out the individual who is hiding. If one is lucky enough to find the hider, they can join them in their hiding position.”
“I think está bien.”
“Splendid. And who would you like to be the first hider?”
“Yo.”
“Are you certain? I know all the best hiding spots this old house has to offer.”
“Sí, I believe I can find a spot that will be not so easy for you to find. And a spot to fit us both, for when you find me, no?” Peter stepped up to her, close enough that their noses brushed.
“If you wish me to join you, then yes.” Peter smiled, winking at her. Ana’s chest heated, her ribcage suddenly refusing to expand in a deep, regular breath, a lack of motion that had nothing to do with the growing child within her.
Minutes later, Ana was hurrying down the hall as quietly as she could, a perfect destination already set in her mind: the library.
She did not know the house as expertly as Peter, but she had spent enough time pacing in the library while he was gone to know which floorboards creaked.
She could hide herself in there quietly enough, and she was also certain that her hiding location would provide room enough for two.
Ana crawled underneath the grand wooden desk that sat in the far corner of the room and pulled the stuffed chair closer to her in an effort to disguise her hiding spot.
Then she pushed a hand against her heart, willing it to slow as she strained to listen for any sign of Peter finding her.
She only waited for four minutes, perhaps five, before she heard the slow creak of the library door.
She strained further and could barely distinguish the slow shifting of footsteps before a shadow touched the hem of her gown.
“Your Majesty,” Peter whispered, “I believe I have discovered your hiding place. Would you care if I joined you?”
“Not at all,” Ana whispered, moving to one side underneath the desk.
Now that Peter had found her, Ana realized the silliness of the game. With only the two of them, it was already finished. There was nobody else who would seek them. Why had Peter suggested such a game that would be completed so suddenly, especially with how familiar he was with the estate?
Then the way his knee, his hip, his shoulder pressed against hers as he crawled under the desk revealed what she hoped to be the truth.
He had wanted to be close to her. She had wanted the same, had desired a moment of solace, of privacy, and of lightness, after the heaviness he had brought home with him from London.
“This was an excellent hiding spot, Ana.”
“Not very excellent if you find me so quickly.”
“That is because I know you quite well. You love your books and maps. It reminds you of your father, I gather. I thought you might feel safe hiding here in the library.”
Ana touched a hand to her chest, pressing against the sharp pain that jolted there at the mention of Papá.
She blinked away tears at the reminder of darker days laced with loss.
Why was it that the feeling of safety was always accompanied by a reminder of the painful devastation of feeling unsafe?
No matter how brief the reminder, Ana felt a dip in her spirits.
She shook her head against memories that were flashing through her mind, unbidden.
Today was to be a happy day, not one for remembering all she had lost.
True, this library reminded her of Papá. But this library in particular had an entirely different feeling. Ana had spent many hours here during the days that Peter was away in London. Somehow, being in a space that felt like him, almost smelled like him, managed to quell some of her worries.
“I love this library because it reminds me of you, Pedro.”