XVIII

Lissie knew there was no happier woman in all of the colonies. Indeed, in the whole world. With her house to clean and take pride in, her garden to tend, and a smiling husband to greet her each morning and night, she felt a new woman. There was no more of the frightened, tattered girl Ben had found as a child. Her figure did full justice to the new gowns she was measured for, and the looking glass reflected a flush in her cheeks, and brightness of eyes that Ben did his utmost to enhance as often as he could with sweet words and tender kisses. She still floundered at times, when expected to say the right things at tea, or know when she was meant to curtsy or nod her head, but the former Miss Greene—now Mistress Merriman—had taken her under her wing, and ensured that she was never made to feel embarrassed in her new situation. And though some wounds went deeper than even the slow-fading scars on her hands, Lissie was healing from those, as well.

Summer came, and Lissie grew heavy. Her petticoats were a burden, and the stays and skirts she once admired as elegant symbols of her married life became insufferable pieces of finery. She did not see how she could have grown fat. She cleaned, and cooked, and did all the things several servants might do on her own. Ben had thought to take on some additional help at the start of their life in the cottage, but Lissie refused, thinking it ridiculous to hire help in order to do everything she felt her own responsibility to manage. If she had done the housework for Jiggy Nye, how much more would she do for her dear husband?

Now that she was having difficulty, she admitted so to Ben, who was more than willing to hire a girl who came highly recommended by Rose, and seeking a situation with a good family. She did not stay with them, but only came four or five days a week, when Lissie was most weary.

They were glad to have Dina when it was found that Lissie was heavy, not with undue weight, but with child.

This did not decrease her need to labour for the house. She was even more concerned that her baby enter the world with the cleanest and brightest of homes, and not a single shelf nor corner was to be neglected. When she grew tired, and had to sit a while, she directed Dina to be sure the mantle was dusted, the carpets were beat, and the lanterns polished.

With summer came the rain. Not that there were many days when it did not rain, but there was a week or so of continual wet weather, which had Ben joking they had better build an ark before they floated away, house and all.

He had returned home from one such consistent downpour, and done his best to abandon his boots in a manner that would not track mud and rainwater in his wife's kitchen. The task was made difficult by the inhibition of his hands, which were curiously trapped in his coat.

Lissie came to him in concern. "Are you well, Ben? Why are you holding your chest like that? You haven't got a cough, have you?" Her hand instinctively went to his forehead. "You do not feel feverish."

"No, sweet Lissie. I am perfectly well. I've only brought you something..." he cleared his throat, unfortunate in his timing, for it did little to relieve his wife's fears, "That is... if it's too much trouble, of course she'll stay only a day or two until we find another home, and I shall care for her in the meantime. I don't wish to burden you."

"What do you mean? Who is to stay here?"

Ben brought his hands out of his coat. Cupped within, was a soaked and ragged kitten, trembling with cold, and possibly fear. It may have been grey at one time, but there was so much mud caked on its tiny form that only its glassy silver eyes were free of discolouration.

"Might she stay?" he asked, and Lissie's heart warmed at how he fairly pleaded for his kitten like the young boys in Merriman's pleaded for sweets. "I think she lost her mother. She was left all alone at the stables, and I almost didn't see her, except that she let out one little cry, and it was like she was calling me." Ben sniffed, and rubbed a hand against his nose. Lissie knew he would pretend it was only the rain that made his eyes water.

She reached up to kiss his cheek, her own eyes full. "You foolish man! Of course she must stay with us! And not for a day or two, but forever."

As they busied themselves with making their foundling clean and dry, and fetched things to make a warm bed by the kitchen stove, Lissie kissed him again. "You have a gift for finding hopeless creatures and making them happy. I do love you so, Benjamin Davidson."

He finished giving drops of warm milk through the cheesecloth—Nellie was not fond of being milked at such a late hour, but it could hardly be helped—and set the now sleeping kitten in her basket.

Ben took a few moments to marvel at the kitten's poochy belly, and the grey and white fluff that revealed itself once she'd been rubbed dry. "You are going to make me blush, Lissie, and I will have to swear 'tis the fire making me warm."

"Then 'tis a good thing we are alone," she laughed quietly, tucking her head into his shoulder. "You will be the best of fathers."

Ben knew they would not be comfortable for much longer on the hard floor, and soon Lissie would drowsily ask to retire to their chamber. But as they were, for now he thought it very cosy, indeed.

Author's Notes: I know, I'm very biased, but I'm absolutely certain that Ben and Lissie are the sweetest, most darling couple ever, and I want their life. Unfortunately, their story here draws to a close. I'll be posting an Epilogue on Monday, and after that, alas! No more to the tale! I do have another Ben/Lissie story up and coming, but I've no idea with my current slump when that will be progressed enough to start posting.

Thank you ever so much for all the reviews! It's been rough not being able to reply to you all, but know that I truly do treasure each line you send! :)