Daniel's frown deepened, but he did not comment on Mrs. Benwick's health, he nodded, determined to put it behind them. He often felt Freya's mother haunting their marriage, her summons and illnesses beckoning Freya to her side with no regard for Freya's own marriage.

Freya's gentle hands claimed his own and he let her, allowing her to lead him to the bench he had sat upon so recently. As they sat he took in his wife's appearance. Her nose and cheeks red from the cold wind, her eyes shadowed with worry, her lips as red as a pomegranate. She hardly seemed to note the cold air that surrounded them, her attention solely on him.

But how did he answer? How did he tell her how tormented he was when she left? How did he tell her just how much she mattered? How much her presence brightened the very world around him? He didn't. Instead Daniel gave her a tight smile. "Well enough." As if that could ever explain it. "I am always better with you by my side." He added, his icy demeanor softening just a small bit with the admitted truth.