A Will to Love

by Rosina Lesley

  ‘Me?’

  ‘You know that.’ Annie looked down at their joined hands, feeling her cheeks go hot.

  ‘No, I don’t. You don’t have much to thank me for.’

  ‘Don’t I?’ She looked up.

  ‘I telephoned your mother last night before I came to see you and arranged to meet them half way between here and Cornwall. Over lunch I told them everything. Your mother wasn’t surprised, but shed a few tears for having distrusted Henry. She said I should come with them this evening.’

  ‘She would.’ Annie tried a smile, but it didn’t work very well.

  ‘She thought you probably felt something for me, after I’d told her all about us.’ Annie blushed again. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Shouldn’t you tell me how you feel first?’ she whispered, concentrating fiercely on Asset, who was trying to climb Murray’s leg.

  ‘Do I have to tell you?’ He was obviously surprised. ‘I thought I’d made my feelings abundantly clear.’

  ‘But that was before – before …’ Annie couldn’t get the words out.

  ‘Oh, Annie! How could you doubt me?’ He pulled her roughly into his arms. ‘I love you. I want to marry you.’

  ‘Do you?’ The words came out as a muffled squeak against his shoulder.

  ‘Yes. And my father wants to meet you – and your mother – and has invited us all to Boxing Day lunch.’

  ‘Hang on, you’re going a bit fast.’ Annie laughed breathlessly, pushing herself out of his arms to look up into his face.

  ‘Sorry.’ He stood up, pulling her with him. ‘Will you marry me, Annie?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she answered shyly and was rewarded with the most tender kiss they had ever shared. When she emerged, breathless, her eyes shining and her hair breaking free of its plait, she stood back and looked at him wickedly.

  ‘And where do you plan to sleep tonight, Mr Campbell?’

  ‘On your couch?’ he said hopefully. ‘I’ve had a bit too much to drive to my father’s house. Anyway, he’s not expecting me.’

  ‘And tomorrow? Would you like to spend Christmas Day with us?’

  ‘Yes please,’ he said meekly, suppressing a smile.

  ‘Then you can talk my mother into turning a blind eye to her prospective son-in-law sharing her daughter’s bed.’ She laughed as he pulled her back into his arms. ‘Oh, Murray, I do love you.’

  Voices could be heard coming down the street as he kissed her again. ‘And I love you, my darling,’ he whispered. ‘And now we’d better let your mother in.’

  Hand in hand they went towards the door, where he stopped and looked above their heads at the mistletoe her mother had stuck over the door frame.

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ he said.