Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Godparents

There were far better ways to wake up on my birthday than wrapped in my husband's arms, even if he was squeezing me a bit tightly. He loosened his grip when I shifted though, allowing me to slip to the bathroom and let Rigel out before returning. I had hardly laid back down before he had me in his arms again, sleepily rubbing his nose against my shoulder. "Happy birthday, Ana."

I sighed into his touch, "Thank you, Will."

"How many years now?"

I rolled my eyes up, thinking. "Twenty-eight, I'm getting old."

He snorted, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. "Hardly, I'm the one that's old."

"Forty-one is hardly old."

"It's older than you," He teased, laying back and drawing me down so I rested on his shoulder. "Now, be a dear and run your young little self downstairs and bring your invalid of a husband some tea."

"It's my birthday, you should be the one bringing me tea."

"I would, but my knees Ana, they're aching. I think I might be getting rheumatism."

"I think if you really are that old," I shifted upright, affording him a good view of myself. "Then I should cover up, old men have died after seeing a naked woman."

He chuckled, pulling me back down. "I suppose you're right, I'm not that old."

"Shocking." I muttered, enjoying the way he pulled me close to him. "We should start to get moving, you know. I will need to tidy up before everyone comes over." Last night had mostly involved Will stripping off my clothes downstairs, and the parlor was still littered with them. A good number of his clothes were downstairs too, one of his socks had barely been caught before landing in a pot.

Will groaned as I got up, "I don't understand why you insisted on a birthday lunch."

"Because that way Oscar doesn't have the chance to stay the night." I replied, pulling on a dressing gown. "I don't want you two fighting again."

Will rummaged through the wardrobe, pulling out a shirt and trousers. "I'll be cordial, you don't have to harp on it."

"I know you will." I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'll get some coffee made." Southampton had gotten colder recently, and I shivered a bit until I had the stove lit. The weather was looking appropriately dismal, gray clouds blotting out the sun, winds whistling around the windows and making them rattle in their frames, and the barest hint of rain spattering the glass. Rigel was quite glad to be let back in, shaking off the slight dampness of his coat before laying out in front of the fire.

Will shoved him with his foot, "I can't very well light the fire with you there."

"Here," I joined him, helping move Rigel out of the way so Will could bundle some newspaper up under the coal and get it lit. It sputtered for a few minutes before catching, greasy black smoke drifting lazily up the chimney. "I miss a nice woodfire, this coal smells awful."

"We'll lay in more wood over the summer." Will stood, stretching. "As it is, this coal is cheaper at the moment. Not to mention it's actually available, even if it is poor quality."

"Remember Vermont?" I leaned against him, "It was always so nice to sit in front of that fire and read together."

He rubbed his hand along my side, "We'll be back there soon enough, although Scotland should prove wonderfully cozy for Christmas."

"I hope your father likes the house." I pursed my lips, thinking of the letters that I had received from the other family members. They sent their love, but were compelled by various reasons to remain in Dalbeattie. Even Samuel would be returning before the New Year, leaving Will and I with the house to ourselves.