He looked back at her cheek. “And this?”
“It will fade,” she said. “It already stings less.”
“Still,” he said, “I am going to ask Elinor for a cloth and for something cold. She will scold me for letting you out of my sight. I will deserve it.”
“She will also feed you soup,” Maria said, “You will deserve that, too.”
“I would like to make a few promises, plain ones.”
“Go on,” she said.
“I will eat breakfast with you every day I am in this house.”
“Agreed,” she said.
“I will stop working late and come find you.”
“Good,” she said.
“I will walk with you after dinner, even if it’s only to the end of the corridor and back.”
“Yes.”
“And when we are ready,” he said carefully, “we will try for a child.”
She nodded, tears flowing down her face now.
“And if it doesn’t happen at once,” he added, “we will still be us.”
“Thank you,” she said. “That is what I needed to hear.”
He drew her close again. They stood quietly for a while, just breathing the same air.
“There’s one promise I want to make, too,” she spoke again.
“I’m listening,” he said.
“If the old fear comes back, I want you to say it out loud to me. Even if it sounds foolish. Especially then. Don’t let it grow in silence. Give me the chance to answer it.”
“I will. And if the waiting hurts you, you’ll say that to me.”
“I will,” she said. “I won’t hide it to spare you.”
He touched her chin, tilting her face up. “You are the bravest person I know.”
“Then we fit,” she said. “You need bravery, and I need truth.”
He kissed her again, deeper this time. When they parted, the lines of worry around his eyes looked softer.
“Do you want to sit?” he asked. “Or should we send for Elinor?
Maria laughed. “Let’s sit first, and you can hold my hand while you tell me what you will say to Violet in your letter.”
“Every truth,” he said.
“She will march anyway,” Maria said.
“True,” he admitted.