Hannah looked into Henry’s eyes. Those eyes that had been fierce with rage just days ago no longer hinted of malice or anger. They were playful, tender even, with an intensity that seared Hannah to her core. Her racing heart sent a rush of heat through her veins flushing her neck and face.
“Uh, well, uh, I believe, Mr. Chambers, that we were about to have dinner,” Hannah stumbled over her words, looking away, “though I am afraid dinner has gotten cold by now.”
Taking her cue, Henry sighed, “Well, cold or not, I’m famished as I am sure you are. Shall we?” He stepped back bowing slightly, arm extended toward the house. “After you.”
Hannah rushed past Henry hoping he would not notice that she was blushing.
He watched her pass, gazing at her perfect figure, revealed all the more by her clinging wet tea dress. “Oh and one more thing Hannah,” he called to her, “it’s Henry. None of this Mr. Chambers business, especially after tonight. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here to help.”
By the time Henry arrived in the dining room, Hannah was busy plating dinner, the room aglow in candlelight, hazy from remnants of smoke. He leaned on the chair taking it all in; her graceful movements as she dipped a serving spoon into each bowl depositing perfect portions on his plate. “How could I have been such a beast to this lovely young woman?” He winced at the thought.
Hannah noticed his souring facial expression. “Oh! I’m sorry! Too much? Not enough?”
“No Hannah it’s perfect. Really. I was just thinking. How can you be so kind to me? I can’t imagine what you must be thinking after all that I’ve put you through. I’ve been so horrible. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Oh. Well, what I am thinking, after spending the day in this beautiful house, admiring the lovely things here, the care and attention to detail, the undeniable woman’s touch, the photographs…all I’m thinking, sir,” she stopped for a moment, looking directly into his eyes, “is that you must have loved her very much.”
Tears welled in Henry’s eyes as he leaned against the back of the chair propped only by Hannah’s tender gaze.
Hannah put the spoon down and walked behind Henry gently guiding him into the chair. “Here you go. You said you were famished. And I didn’t spend all afternoon in that kitchen to feed the compost heap. So…let’s have dinner, shall we?”
Read previous installments of Seasoning HERE. This series is inspired by the lovely paintings that are part of Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge. This chapter is a bit late to the party, which only means I will be adding a new installment in a day or two. Thank you to everyone who is following this little story. ❤️