Anne had obviously washed her hair, and her damp locks were hanging limply over her shoulders. Keith’s heart skipped a beat as he took in her features, fresh from her hot bath. The aroma of her herbal soap set his emotions astir.
“Sure. Good idea…” His voice was shrill as he answered.
Anne looked puzzled. “Keith, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing… I’m just worried about your hair. Won’t you catch a cold if you leave it wet? It’s nighttime.”
“I’ll be fine this time of year. When I was traveling with Mama, we would wash ourselves in the river until about autumn, even at night.”
The combination of Anne’s expression, still childish for her age, with the more mature curves of her waist and her slender limbs, rattled Keith’s mood in a way even he found strange. Unable to stand it, he took several steps forward and placed both hands on Anne’s arms.
“Anne, I think you might have forgotten something, so I’d like to make sure.”
“What?”
“You still remember, don’t you? That I love you and want to make you mine? Given the circumstances of our work, I’m happy to wait for now. But someday, I want to hear your answer.”
Anne’s eyes shifted around for a moment.
It did slip her mind—I’m sure of it.
That was discouraging, though it was very like Anne. But it was also strange for a girl to forget something so important.
I don’t want her to forget.
Strong emotions filled Keith’s heart as he took Anne’s right hand. He leaned over and placed a kiss on it.
“Keith?!”
Anne almost leaped back in surprise, but Keith stood firm and grabbed her shoulders to stop her.
“I’d actually rather give you a proper kiss,” he whispered into her ear. He pulled her toward him, hugged her firmly, and continued speaking. “But you haven’t given me your answer yet, so I can’t do that. Don’t forget how I feel, though. This is just a token of my affection to help you remember.”
He took Anne’s hand again and ran his fingertips over the spot he had kissed.
Anne stared at him, her eyes wide. She wasn’t blushing; she only looked very, very surprised, so Keith started to feel self-conscious. When he let go of her hand, the embarrassment that had been bubbling beneath his feelings of excitement burst out, and his cheeks suddenly grew hot.
“Listen… Anne…I…”
“S-sorry, Keith. I didn’t realize you were so upset…but…it makes sense. Anyway, I’m sorry.”
When Anne finally spoke, she seemed to have misread Keith’s earnest expression.
“I’m not upset with you. I just don’t want you to forget.”
“I really am sorry, though… Um… I’ll be sure not to forget.”
As the two of them fumbled for the right words, they heard the bell at Saint Lewiston Bell Church, signaling the end of the day. Keith felt like it had saved him. In an attempt to keep up appearances, he put on a deliberately cheerful voice.
“Anyway, we’ll all have a bath and get to bed. We have work tomorrow, after all. Go ahead and sleep, Anne.”
“Uh…yeah.”
As Keith fled down the stairs, he touched his ears. They were hot. He was incredibly embarrassed, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He doubted Challe had ever behaved so clumsily around Anne. Yet he, too, must have been feeling the same emotions. Keith would have liked to ask Challe about it, just once.
Keith was upset!
Holding a hand to her pounding chest, Anne went back to the room. Kat and the others had finished playing cards, and a slim candle was burning atop the small table set in the in the center of the room.
Anne quickly crawled into her own bed. She curled up into a ball and cradled Mithril, who was fast asleep and snoring. Mithril squirmed restlessly, but once he settled snugly against Anne’s chest, he began sleeping peacefully again.
It makes sense Keith would feel that way. I’d also be disappointed if someone had forgotten I’d confessed my love to them.
He had grabbed her shoulders, taken her arm, and planted a kiss on the back of her hand. Not a soft and gentlemanly kiss, but a wild one.
Anne had seen a different side of the quiet, gentle boy she knew so well, and it frightened her. It felt as if a little puppy that had been sleeping with her in bed had suddenly grown up and turned into a powerful, muscular hunting hound overnight.
She realized he was not a boy but a man, and it gave her goose bumps.
Anne needed to respond to his feelings quickly. Not doing so would be rude to him. But Anne’s affections for Challe hadn’t changed. Dawdling like this and letting her feelings hold her back wouldn’t make anyone happy.
Think carefully. I love Challe. So what about Keith? Is it love? Do I love Keith?
She questioned herself harshly and began to remember all sorts of things.
When she’d first met Keith at the Radcliffe Workshop, he had always treated Anne with fairness. He had encouraged her. He was a skilled candy crafter. When they got into a predicament at the Paige Workshop, he had joined in and worked with them. He had comforted Anne when she was crying.
And he had made a straightforward confession of love to her.
She couldn’t find a single thing about him to dislike. Rather, the more she thought about it, the more amazing, kind, and wonderful he seemed to become. If she asked herself whether she loved him, she did. In all likelihood, Keith was someone she could trust and rely on for everything, much like her mother, Emma.
Feeling her damp hair against her cheek, Anne was hit by the sensation of being backed into a corner.
In truth, she was feeling pressed to answer him.
I love him…I think. That means I should say so, and ask him to be with me. That’s the path to greatest happiness for everyone.
Without meaning to, she squeezed Mithril tight, and the fairy squirmed restlessly. Then his eyes popped open.
“Anne? What’s the matter?” he asked.
He must have sensed something from Anne’s stiff expression, because he gazed up at her with concern from under the blanket.
“Ah, sorry,” she said. “Was that too tight? I guess I woke you.”
“It’s fine, really. More importantly, what is it, Anne? You look upset.”
“I was just thinking. I…I like Keith. So I was thinking…I should accept his proposal.”
Mithril frowned and sighed in exasperation. “What are you talking about, Anne? Obviously, you like Keith. I don’t dislike him myself, and even Challe Fenn Challe probably likes him.”
“I think I could probably form a family with Keith,” Anne said. “Maybe I love him like I loved Mama. But that just means I love him as a person. Keith and I are not parent and child. We’re not siblings. We’re not family. I’m a girl, and Keith is a boy, and we’re not related. So if I think we could become like family, then doesn’t that mean I love him as a man…?”