She played “Happy Birthday” for John, after which they plied her with a dozen requests. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. The feeling of last days grew stronger with her as their number diminished. Seeing her improved mood, he had offered the Latin reading lesson strategically, knowing it would surprise her that he considered her capable. Simply. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak. She felt sickeningly empty. What was it she had expected? Surely her moods were getting a little out of hand. . Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. It was Martin, she could hear his heart beat.
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