Chapter Fifty-Six
Frances woke up in Nathaniel’s arms, feeling safer and happier than she could ever remember feeling. Probably because she had never been this content. But she was also starving.
She assumed it was around midnight, but she wasn’t sure she could make it to morning, after skipping lunch and dinner due to her walk and subsequent…activities.
She untangled herself from Nathaniel, but took a blanket with her to explore the cabin. She assumed she would be quite proficient in the kitchen, given her years helping Mrs. Brown, watching her work whenever she wanted to avoid her mother, which was often, but the pantry was sparse.
There were, however, potatoes, and she’d seen leeks in the garden when they were rushing inside.
She knew just what to make.
The hardest part of making the meal was not waking Nathaniel with the door that creaked, or her scrambling around to find what she needed.
“What are you doing awake?” Nathaniel asked when the smell of her cooking woke him.
“I was hungry. And cold, so this fixed both.”
“You should come back under the covers so I can— Wait, that smells like…”
He sat up and looked at her, the covers falling to his waist, as if he couldn’t believe his nose.
“I had limited ingredients.” She sat on the edge of the bed and bit her bottom lip, not exactly nervous, but hoping he’d appreciate it.
“I love you,” he said, pulling her close and kissing her so she completely forgot the soup on the stove. He’d said it earlier, in his speech, but this was the first time he’d just come out and used the three words, like he couldn’t help himself.
“I love you too.” She kissed him and couldn’t imagine anyone ever being as happy as she felt in that moment. “But I am still starving, and I don’t think I can fix another meal if I ruin this one.”
“I hate to lose the view, but since we’ve agreed we don’t want you catching cold, there should be old day dresses in there. At least until I we return to bed.”
She opened the armoire and found an assortment of what looked more like costumes for children to dress up in, including silly hats, in colors Beau Brummel would delight in. There was one dress that looked big enough for an adult, but as soon as she put it on, she looked down and gasped.
“Frances, what’s wrong?”
She didn’t realize she had tears in her eyes until Nathaniel was at her side, his hand on her cheek so he could better asses her.
“This dress, it’s…”
“My mother’s,” he told her. “Not that she ever wore it in public, but it matched the dresses my sisters got at the same time.”
“Lilac and pink.”
Nathaniel didn’t understand the significance, because she could have just named the colors in front of her, but she turned so he could better see the yellow sunflower stitched over the right breast, exactly like the one she’d found with her dress all those years ago.
“My mother was the woman in the shop, with the three daughters,” he said in awe. “Becca called her Aunt Eleanor, which my mother encouraged, because you can never replace someone’s mother, but to Mother, she had three daughters and called them ‘my girls,’ because a mother’s love has no limit.”
“She must have been the best mother.” Frances tried not to cry, but it was hard to explain how many times she’d thought of that family and wished to be a part of it.
“She was,” he agreed. “And not only did she meet you, but she must have liked you.” He pointed to the flower. “Sunflowers were always her favorite, and she chose to share one with you.”
He lifted the hair from her face, then gently brushed her tears with his thumb.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, but there were tears in his eyes as well.
“Because I’ve been dreaming of being a part of this family since I was twelve years old.”
“And now we’re yours.”