Free Forever and Forever (Historical Proper Romance) by Josi S. Kilpack Page B

Longfellow said. His agitation seemed to unstick his feet, and he began pacing between them and the window. “My trunks are still packed from Zurich, and I have settled my account with the landlord for my rooms, but I had hoped to sit with William this afternoon as I will be unable to stay until . . . the end. I would like to read to him—the Dewey sermons, I think.” He stopped his pacing and faced Tom with an expectant expression.
    “Certainly,” Tom said. “But he took a dose of opium not more than an hour ago. I’m afraid he will not be alert for some time.”
    “That is all right,” Mr. Longfellow said. “It is not his ears and mind I will recite to. I only hope his spirit might hold my words and take them with him.” He looked up with tears in his eyes that he did not try to hide or blink away. “There is such unfairness in this life at times. What would we do if not for a belief in Deity?”
    Neither Tom nor Fanny answered the rhetorical question, but Fanny nodded, blinking back tears of her own.
    “You may attend him for as long as you like,” Tom said. “And stay for tea and supper as well. We shall all miss your company. You have been a great comfort for us these weeks.”
    “As you have been for me,” Mr. Longfellow said. “I am without words to adequately express my gratitude for your friendship.” His eyes flickered to Fanny, but she looked away, unable to carry the burden of sentiment his glance might hold. “May I go to William now?” Mr. Longfellow asked a moment later.
    “Of course,” Tom said. “I shall have Fanny see that you receive some refreshment.”
    “That is not necessary,” Mr. Longfellow said, shaking his head. “I simply thank you for allowing me to stay a bit.”
    Tom showed Mr. Longfellow to the back of the house while Fanny ordered some tea and bread to be brought to him. When the tray was ready, she took it to the parlor herself, setting it quietly on the small table.
    Mr. Longfellow did not acknowledge her entry. He sat beside the lounge where William slept, breathing his rattling breaths. Mr. Longfellow leaned toward William and began to read the sermons he had brought with him, his voice soft.
    A feeling of reverence washed over Fanny as she prepared Mr. Longfellow a cup of tea—cream only, no sugar—but she accounted her feelings to the sermons, not the man reading them with such feeling.
    She placed the cup of tea on the table beside Mr. Longfellow, but still he did not look up, so intent he was on his task. Unsure what to do with herself and unable to ask Mr. Longfellow his wishes, she chose to stay in the room, as she had during numerous discussions when William was awake.
    She settled into a chair and gave into her tears, allowing them to drip from her chin and stain her dress as she drew comfort from the sound of Mr. Longfellow’s voice. She sent out her own prayer that William’s suffering would not continue much longer. She allowed herself to feel the fullness of her love for her dear cousin and imagined the welcome such a kind soul would receive when he arrived in Heaven. It had brought her comfort when Charles passed to imagine her mother embracing his return, and she was glad to think of both Mama and Charles waiting for William now.
    She closed her eyes and let Mr. Longfellow’s voice lull her to a place of comfort, a place where believing in God’s love was enough. A place where her own heart could find peace somehow.

 
    Eight
    Strasburg, France
     
    Fanny looked out the carriage window at the imposing tower of the Strasburg Cathedral and marveled that after all that had happened this last week they found themselves here. Strasburg was often called “Little Paris” and served as a natural stopping point for a traveler journeying between Germany or Switzerland and the actual Paris and all the distractions it offered. The gothic architecture of the cathedral, with spires stretching toward heaven, made Fanny think of William and the blessed