by Lynn Kurland
He merely grunted and saw her inside the hall.
And once there, Anne of Artane looked about her and felt a joy sweep through her that she was certain would never dim. There, clustered by the hearth, were the souls she loved best. All Artane’s children were there, laughing and talking about things that pleased them. Missing were Artane’s lord and lady, but that was nothing unusual these days. They had taken to traveling about and Anne couldn’t begrudge them their freedom for a bit. They could be called back readily enough for the welcoming of their first grandchild.
She realized, as she stood with her hand in her husband’s, that the scene before her would not always be as it was now. Nicholas would wed, as would Amanda and Isabelle. Miles would seek his own way and she suspected that even the little lads would find things to pull them away from home.
Home. Even the very word made her heart swell within her breast and forced tears to her eyes. It was more than she ever could have hoped for.
But should everyone in the scene before her leave, it would not diminish her happiness, nor make her any less content with her life. For her home was not before her, nor was it in the stones that surrounded her.
Her home was standing beside her, holding her hand under his cloak and wearing a gruff expression that belied the caressing of her fingers. Whatever else happened, whatever souls came and went from the keep, if Robin was beside her, she would still have that still, quiet place she had longed for the whole of her life.
“You’re weeping again.” Robin looked down at her and frowned.
“I’m happy.”
He shook his head and pursed his lips. “I vow, my love, that I will never understand joy of that ilk. But if you’re happy, then I cannot complain.”
She suspected that he would understand it very well indeed someday, but she kept that to herself. This was not the place for tender conversings. She would save that discourse for the privacy of their own chamber. And then she would give him the tidings of his coming child and see if that didn’t give him reason to weep a tear or two of joy.
But for now, the joy was hers and she would nestle it close to her heart and savor it. She turned and slipped her arms around Robin’s waist and laid her head on his chest. She closed her eyes and sighed.
Strong arms came around her and a cheek came to rest gently on her head.
“Does something ail you, my love?”
“Nay,” she whispered.
“And the reason for your sweet arms about me?”
She sighed and smiled. “No reason. Other than happiness because I’m home.”
“Home,” he repeated, and his arms tightened around her. “Aye, my love. You are there, indeed.”
Anne smiled.
Aye, she was there, indeed.