Forever and Forever (Historical Proper Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Maine?”
    Mr. Longfellow blinked before he spoke. “I have been in Europe for fifteen months,” he said in a slow, calculated tone. “I shall be returning to Cambridge in a few months to accept a position at Harvard College as the Smith Professor.”
    “And how have you enjoyed this tour?” Fanny pressed, though there was some niggling within her, warning her to retreat from this line of questioning. She argued with herself but did not give up. “Has it been so dreadful that it is not worth speaking of? Is there nothing of this trip you would like to tell us? Were you in Paris already? Did you enjoy the opera?”
    “Oh, Fanny, leave him be,” Tom said, attempting to keep his tone light but not succeeding entirely. There was a warning in his voice. “I am interested in his first tour, and in his book.”
    Tom’s defense only drew out her curiosity. “Which we have had a very interesting discussion about already—so much so that I would love to hear how Europe has changed in the last decade. Did you not invite Mr. Longfellow here for conversation, and should not that conversation be—”
    “Fanny,” Father said, cutting her off. “You are being rude to our guest.”
    Fanny turned her attention to her plate, embarrassed at having been called out by her father—something that happened rarely, even when she deserved it. The room was silent long enough for her to take a breath and remember her manners. “I’m sorry, Father. I did not mean to be rude.”
    An awkward silence descended as Fanny’s cheeks burned.
    “To answer your question, Miss Frances,” Mr. Longfellow said after a few miserable seconds had passed. “Yes, much of my tour this time has been quite dreadful. I told your brother the whole of my situation prior to dinner because I feared I would not be good company. He offered to help avoid difficult topics. I am sorry for the discomfort the avoidance has caused, however, and that the conversation is not so diverting.”
    Fanny closed her eyes as the humiliation in her face and stomach burned hotter. Knowing what had been irritating her—he had been hiding something and was therefore being careful—did not make her feel better. She had embarrassed him, her father, and herself by being so intent. Why could she not keep her thoughts to herself as a young lady was taught to do? Why did she take it upon herself to fix everything and, in the process, not fix anything at all? Not William. Not this awkward dinner.
    The room was still quiet, and she sensed everyone was waiting for her. She met Mr. Longfellow’s eyes from across the long table. She noted again that he was a handsome man, yet now she could see the pain in his eyes and the shadows beneath them. For a moment she wanted to know the cause of his pain—and then she stopped such wondering.
    Fanny did not know precisely what Father and William had discussed in the parlor in Thun. She had asked for details, and her father had refused her—which may have added to her surly mood when she felt left out of another conversation tonight—but she could sense the heaviness of whatever the discussion had been, and her heart felt bruised within her chest. There was no room for her to bear anyone else’s pain, and so as quickly as she wondered what dreadful things had befallen Mr. Longfellow, she wanted to hear nothing at all.
    Her inability to bear her own misery had driven her to seek out dancing and music in which to pass the time. She could forget the troubles that nipped at her when the energy was high. Evenings like this, calm and conversational, were not nearly as distracting. But that was not Mr. Longfellow’s fault, and she hated to know that she’d added to the difficulty he’d already experienced on this trip. Should she not be lifting the burdens of the people she met rather than adding to them?
    “I am sorry, Mr. Longfellow, for pressing you, and for the difficulties you have faced. I was out of place to be so direct, and I pray your