“In my experience, we are often surprised by what we can do when it is needful,” he chuckled softly and shook his head dismissively at her claim that she hadn't a maternal bone in her body. It was obvious enough to him that she cared a great deal about the people in her life – enough to try to do what she thought was right for them. In the end, that was all anyone could do, but he imagined it was a skill that came in handy most often with children. “I loved it when my nursemaid would hold me and sing me songs as a child...”
Alcuin tried not to think about how she, too, had died.
He smiled warmly as she took his hand and tried to brush the sad thoughts aside. There would always be time for sadness, but not nearly enough for happiness. “I would like that very much,” he nodded and covered the back of her hand with his free one, his hands warm and firm. “You do not need to apologize for how you feel. It has been a – trying experience for us both, I think, but...”
“They cry enough for the both of us,” he nodded toward the boys, sleeping soundly on the bed, and laughed softly. “If nothing else, they are good at that.”