Straining her neck, she took a tight swallow and several deep breaths. “I thank you for your service.” Her lips wobbled, and after desperately trying to hold it, she finally could not stop the laugh as it lifted from her throat.
As if anticipating this very thing, Noah’s mouth broke into a grin. “There. That’s better.”
Her laugh softened, and she tilted her head. “What?”
“I hate to see you hold in your laughter. It cannot be good for one’s health.” He winced, bringing his hand up as if to inspect it. “A good, strong laugh, however,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he studied his palm, “I would imagine to be very beneficial to a long and happy life.” He plucked something from his hand.
Warmth pooled in Hannah’s stomach. Had she ever been encouraged in such a way? Not that she could remember, though she supposed it was possible. Noah’s eyes kept Hannah’s gaze as he smiled at her, and for the life of her, she could not look away.
“Is that—” She swallowed her sudden nerves. “Was that the bee’s stinger?”
“I believe so. Poor thing has lost its life because of you.”
Her mouth fell open. “I did not kill it.”
“No, but what else was I to do? Your hysterics were reaching a fevered pitch, and if I did not put an end to it, your mother was going to hear all about the gossip before you even returned home.”
His words sobered her, for while he might have been teasing, he was very right. “Then I thank you and the poor creature that gave its life.” She looked around for her basket, but it was several paces away. “I should bring my basket back to Mrs. Baxton.”
“Already?”
Hannah strode past Noah, and he trailed after her. “I cannot risk another outburst. I am lucky not to have drawn attention.” She grasped the woven handle of her basket.
“Hannah, wait.” She heard the soft brush of Noah’s steps in the grass, but she pressed ahead. When she made it back to where they had been picking before, Miss Baxton looked up at her. Hannah had nearly forgotten she was there.
“Please don’t leave, Miss Gibbons.” Miss Baxton perked up from her seat in the grass. “I was looking forward to spending the afternoon with you.”
“Yes, Miss Gibbons,” Noah said, striding past and turning to her with a fake pout on his lips. “You must stay.” And then his silly expression softened into the sweet smile she had grown so fond of seeing.
“Very well.” Hannah ran her hand along her arm. For whatever reason, hearing both of them tell her how much they wished for her to stay had made her feel awkward. Especially after her ridiculous theatrics over the bee. “I suppose I could stay.”
Hannah knelt down, her hand trembling as she reached forward to pick another of the ripe fruits.
Miss Baxton began talking about her family’s plans for the summer, but when Hannah looked up, it was Noah’s gaze that caught her attention. He used his finger to point at Hannah with a raised brow, and strangely, Hannah knew just what he was asking.Are you all right?
She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat and nodded.
Yes, perhaps she could stay for a little while longer after all.
Chapter 11
Hannahawoketwodayslater with a heart full of hope. Noah had quickly become a good friend, but the idea of having a young woman to confide in and go for walks and have tea with . . . it pleased Hannah more than she had realized it would. It had been so long since she’d had such a companion, and today, a large group of friends were going to see a folly together. The slow, drizzling rain of yesterday made Hannah worry their excursion would be cancelled, but she awoke to the sun shining brightly in a blue sky.
Joyce helped her dress into a soft blue muslin day dress, and Hannah selected her nicest bonnet, trimmed in a crisp white ribbon. She paired it all with short, white gloves, choosing to forgo the lace for today. Hannah doubted Noah would remember Margaret’s gloves from when he proposed, but she did, and did not wish to take any chances. Hannah wanted him to have a day of fun and adventure without anything bringing down his mood. He had suffered enough these last weeks, and she longed to see his smile—completely unburdened by life or circumstances.
Hannah looked into the mirror and twirled a small piece of hair around her finger to help the ringlet curl about her face. She tilted her head. Would Noah notice her appearance? Had he ever? While Hannah knew his heart was likely still healing, a small part of her wondered if he ever saw her as anything more than a friend. He was a man, and she was a woman, after all. It did not seem too far of a stretch to wonder if he had ever admired her.
A bird outside of her window sang, and Hannah let herself sit and be. To listen to the feathered creature’s beautiful song, to let the sun stream into her room and light up the small particles of dust that practically sparkled in the bright light. What a funny thing. The sun could make something beautiful that is often seen as unwanted. How many other things in life could benefit from light shining upon them and showing all of their possibilities?
And then Noah’s face appeared in her mind—smiling wide as his deep-brown eyes gazed at her. She had never felt more seen in all of her life than when she was with Noah. It seemed to be a gift of his. He made one feel important and cared for, regardless of station, appearance, or, in her case, impetuousness.
Hannah looked at her wardrobe, knowing she had half a bag of bittersweet chocolate nonpareils, lemon drops, and marzipan hidden at the bottom, tucked as far back as they could go. Noah had got his way, and they had purchased them all, then proceeded to divide the sweets between the two of them. Now her chocolate had a slightly sour flavor, her lemon drops a hint of marzipan, and the marzipan . . . well, it did not seem to be at a disservice like the others. And every time Hannah pulled out her sweets, savoring the sugary tartness, she relived the sheer joy Noah had radiated when talking about his success in court. What a blessing it was to be with and bask inhislight.
“Miss,” Joyce said, reentering Hannah’s room. “The party is here.”
Hannah jerked out of her reverie. “Of course. Thank you, Joyce. I shall be right down.”
She secured the ribbon of her bonnet beneath her chin and made her way downstairs. Murmuring voices caught her ear, and she looked up to find Mrs. Baxton standing in the foyer with her daughter, Sarah.
