“Thank you,” she whispered.
I shook my head. “You don’t need to thank me for sharing that you’re free to speak your mind.”
“No, what I wished to say that I didn’t think was my place to say was…thank you.”
I stared at her, puzzled.
“Pardon?” I asked.
“You…I love my husband,” she stated.
“This I know,” I told her.
“And you kept him safe. For years, you kept him safe. Thank you.”
Suddenly, it was me turning my eyes away. Indeed, I turned my whole head away, giving her my profile. And for no reason, I lifted my napkin to touch it to my lips as I fought for composure.
“Franka,” she called softly.
“A moment if you don’t mind,” I replied, and damn it all, my voice was thick.
“Certainly,” she murmured.
I drew in breath, put the napkin to my lap and again faced my sister-in-law.
The instant I caught her eyes, I saw hers were not timid or frightened. They were bright with emotion, undoubtedly just like mine.
“That is done. We move on from here, yes?” she asked, her tone also quite husky.
I nodded, not trusting my voice not to give me away.
“Good,” she said and carefully cleared her throat.
I again took up my fork and used it to slice into a fat, juicy sausage.
“I also would like to extend my invitation for you to journey back and stay with us at our aateliskartono,” she said. “Kristian is right, we have much room and I think he’ll quite enjoy his sister close for a while. Not to mention, watching you get to know your nephew better.”
I had never much thought of children except the fact that I never intended to have any. I had not had good examples of parenting and the very thought of being in that position (I did not admit to myself but it was true) terrified me.
But one could definitely say that Timofei was the handsomest child I’d ever laid my eyes on, and from what little I’d noted, he was exceptionally bright, and I was certain that was not a prejudiced assessment in the slightest.
“I would enjoy both,” I told her. “With the addition of spending time getting to know my sister better.”
She flushed at my words and then awarded me the first smile I think she’d ever given me, except the one she gave upon meeting me, something to which I said something foul that wiped it clean from her face.
I curved my lips up in return.
“My two favorite girls in the world at the breakfast table together,” Kristian declared, and I twisted in my seat to watch him walk in. “This heralds the beginning of an excellent day.”
He was late for reasons unknown.
Until then.
He’d orchestrated what just occurred, perhaps at Brikitta’s behest, perhaps for his own ends.
And there it was.
It would seem my brother was also blossoming in the art of intrigue.
“Good morning, brother,” I greeted.
“Sister,” he greeted back, smiling brightly at me and stopping at my seat to bend and sweep his lips along my cheekbone.
When he straightened and moved toward his wife, his smile changed a nuance as he said, “My wife.”
“My husband,” she replied.
He arrived by her seat and she tipped her head back for him to touch his lips to hers. He lifted but an inch away and they shared a look that made me cast my eyes from them for it was intimate and not for me to see even if it was across a breakfast table.
But in witnessing it, abruptly I felt much like Kristian had explained he felt when he heard what had become of our mother and father.
He had Brikitta. Someone who loved him. Who gave him children. Who made him smile and laugh. Who clearly fretted for his safety and had the courage to thank a woman who had not once been kind to her because she made that husband safe. And she was a woman who gave him that intimacy it was clear he not only savored but cherished.
The feeling all that gave me was as if a weight had been lifted and I could struggle to my feet, and perhaps not fly, but be free to allow my feet to take me wherever they wished to take me.
Not to mention, I’d never thought my sister-in-law attractive, but at what I’d beheld, I changed my mind.
Love created beauty, it would seem.
Following these thoughts, I also realized with some discomfort that I’d never had that with Antoine. There was intimacy, of course, and affection. He knew me well, better than I knew myself, it was true. We shared many moments of humor and also moments of quiet togetherness that I treasured.
But he was my kept lover.
He’d never been my partner.
I’d never had that. Not from Antoine, not from anyone.
But I was pleased I could go forward with my future plans content my brother did.
“So, I hope you’ll remain with us even if you’ve finished your breakfast, my love,” Kristian said, and I turned back to them to see him sitting at the foot of the table, his wife to his right, me to his left, his eyes on his beloved.
He had his napkin in his lap and the footman was pouring his coffee.
“For a spell, Kristian,” Brikitta replied to his request. “Then I’d like to get to Timofei.”
“Of course, darling,” Kristian murmured, smiling at her fondly then turning that look to me. “I ran into your Noc in the passageway on the way here.”
I felt my breath turn shallow simply at the mention of his name but also at the way my brother referred to him as “your Noc.”
“He’s hardly my Noc, brother,” I returned.
“Hmm…” Kristian mumbled noncommittally and again gave his attention to his wife. “He’d just returned from being outside, running. Odd that. Out in the snow wearing curious shoes that I must admit look rather comfortable, the most peculiar loose-fitting pants and a sweater made of fleece material that appeared rather warm. But along with all that, he was running, of his own accord just to do so, out in the cold. He was breathing heavily because of it but seemed rather invigorated.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “Such an unusual thing to do.”