Three

"Bella—where did you go?" Edward rasped as she came through the door, fog swirling with her skirts.

"I walked in the rain, but my brolly had a tear. I nearly drowned." She giggled and settled a warm smile on him. "Are you glad to see me, Edward? I'm so glad to see you."

He nodded, hating how hungry he was for her company.

"Shall I pour for you, Edward?" she asked sweetly, warming her hands.

"Yes, I would like that—very much," he said with a sigh.

They sat in companionable silence sipping Darjeeling tea and nibbling chocolate tea biscuits.

After a time, she carried the tea tray to the settee near the fire.

He found himself seated next to her as she poured two fresh cups and proceeded to pull out yarn and needles from a carpet bag.

"Read to me, Edward?" she asked with a charming smile.

"Of course," he smiled shyly, picking up the book.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."**

His gaze shot to her, but she remained diligently bent over her work.

He smiled and continued.

**—Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice