Daniel shook his head.
“Lost a patient.”
“I am sorry. I know how that feels.”
“It’s a double blow. I hate to be mercenary, but this will be death to my practice as well. It is always a gamble, having prominent patients.”
“May I ask who?”
His answer hit Daniel like a fist. The sensation a sickening combination of true grief and pity along with several self-centered emotions far less noble.
“I am sorry,” Daniel mumbled again, and ducked out of the room before the man could respond.
When he arrived home, Charlotte was there to greet him. “Happy birthday,” she said shyly, adding tentatively, “Daniel.”
She was dressed in a lovely rose-colored gown with a flattering, feminine neckline. Her hair was arranged in a pretty crown of curls, several framing her face, now flushed and expectant. He did not miss the intentional use of his Christian name, her attention to her appearance, nor the blush in her cheeks. No, he had not misread the situation. Her feelings had changed and she wanted him to know it. He should be relieved and pleased, but he felt a nauseating ball of dread in his stomach instead. Why did such a thing have to happen now? When she was finally ready to receive his affection?
It seemed to Daniel a cruel and ironic twist of fate.
“You look beautiful,” he said, an empty sadness stealing over him.
She smiled at his words, but her smile quickly faltered. “Is something wrong?”
He opened his mouth to answer. Must he tell her? Now? Could he not wait until ... until there was an understanding between them?
“Happy birthday, Papa!” Anne shouted, running out to meet him, throwing her arms around his legs. “Doesn’t Missy look like a princess?”
“Yes. She does. As do you.” He smiled at his daughter, touching her fancy, curled hair and taking in her bright blue frock. “Your new gown is almost as lovely as you are.”
Anne giggled and pulled his hand, urging him to follow her into the dining room. “I helped make the cake, but I fear the icing is rather a mess.”
Daniel breathed a silent sigh.A mess indeed.
While Anne knelt on a chair at the dining room table, happily poking little sugar petals onto the icing of the cake, Charlotte joined Daniel in the sitting room. “Daniel, are you sure nothing is amiss?
I hope I have not offended you.”
“Offended me, how?”
“Well, by my presumption, my familiarity in arranging this birthday celebration. If I have overstepped—”
“I am the opposite of offended, Charlotte. I am pleased by your ... familiarity, as you say. In my mind, you are part of this family already.”
Even with her head bowed, he could see the pleasure in her pink cheeks and concealed smile.
“Charlotte,” he said, suddenly intense, “my feelings for you, my intentions, remain unchanged.”
Her head rose and she looked at him shyly, expectantly. How lovely she was, how fondly was she regarding him. Would it be so wrong to postpone the news that would wipe that look from her face forever?
“If your feelings,” he added more gently, “were no longer hindered ...”
“They are no longer hindered, Daniel,” she whispered.
“Then I would ask you ... what I have longed to ask you ...”
She smiled warmly, her body leaning toward him ever so slightly.
What agony this was. To be so close to her, to realize she was ready to accept him. But only because she remained in sweet ignorance.
