To Be Loved

Anna smiled while her fingers fumbled with the now unsealed envelope, wanting to be able to gaze at the card and her husband's face simultaneously. She looked at him, sitting across from her at the table and holding her own token in his large but exceedingly careful hands, and they were both only too aware, even if they did their utmost to keep up the pretence of the morning.

They didn't know if they should bother this year. Anna's spirits were tinged with a passive sense of sadness, standing in the shadow of her mistress's mourning each day. More than ever she was thankful that she could find the love within John's eyes for a good portion of the time during the day, seek shelter in the depths of his hidden smiles – hidden to everyone else but her – and as the dusk descended receive what she had craved since the sunrise. He would whisper into her hair while her face was tucked against him, smiling upon his skin as she relished the sturdy loop of his arm around her waist, fingertips like feathers sinking against her.

Love, love, love.

She responded to the word as though it were her given name.

The decision was a mutual one, agreed in one of their conversations where souls spoke louder than words. Either of them rarely went back on what they had said, and that's why she had been shocked, a tiny bit cross but elated most of all to have found him one evening, legs awkwardly stretched at the side of the bureau, his hand occupied with scribing ink that was always too slow to dry. She glimpsed the pink and purple flowers and small silky bow decorating the front before he had become aware that she was watching him, rather too intently. She had to hold back her laugh while he scrambled, hiding the card from her sight as stealthily as he could – which wasn't very. Daft beggar, she thought fondly. He's a half day tomorrow, he could have waited until then.

For her own part, she wrote hers out as she sat in a spare half-hour at the hall table, taking far too long to consider what she would say that hadn't already been uttered a million times or more. Daisy likely thought she was the daft one when she ran down the hallway after her to make sure she could post it while she went along to Thirsk to pick up the fortnightly supplies.

Her knowing smile remained, though she felt a genuine flutter of surprise race up as she took in what was inside. Aside the verse that had been printed there lay an inscription in John's writing, the curves of his letters considered. Each letter struck her, her heart swelling as she moved onto the next one that followed, then the next, then the next. She could hardly read for the tears that had collected in her eyes, all borne from an emotion much greater than mere sentiment.

They were dried when she met his eyes properly again, and she rose from her seat only seconds before he did the same. She needed to pay him for the gesture immediately and so she hardly cared for any consequences when she pressed her lips to his, barely hidden outside the servants' hall. He had let his tea go cold and so hadn't touched it, and she felt immeasurably glad that she could be the first taste upon his lips that morning. She kept that thought with her all day long as well as the card upon her person, being extra cautious not to crumple or otherwise damage it.

She kept a reserve upon her happiness as she attended to Lady Mary, and shared an amused look with him that recalled something more when Jimmy issued denials of sending Ivy a card. She was glad that she was never bothered with all that when she was younger, though she felt rather like a teenager again when she sneaked another look at her own before the staff dinner was served.

After what seemed far too long they secured the door behind them, kissing properly before setting off on the path for home. Her eyes lit with promise as much as her heart burned.

Later she opened the drawer of the cabinet, putting the card with all the others and the stacks of letters she had kept, reminding her of a time when all was against them, except that which could never be denied.

Reading the affirmation was quite enough, but hearing him speak it as they lay together once more, hearts and bodies singing with joy, made all the difference.

What a thing it was to be loved.