Chapter 5

He took her to the east side of the estate, where the study and music room was

located. He had told her that it was one of his mother's favourite rooms in the house.

Winnie could see why as she saw the countless books that lined the shelved walls, and

the luxurious velvet carpet upon the floor, and the grand piano that sat facing the

large bay window. It was a beautiful room, that felt grand, yet cozy at the same time.

She was instantly at ease the moment she stepped foot inside.

"Do you play any?" Winnie asked, gesturing to the many instruments through out the

room.

"Yes, I do." Henry answered, and added, "Can you guess which one?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Can I see your hands?" She asked suddenly,

surprising him.

"What does this have to do with it?" He asked, to which she brushed him off, taking

his hand into hers and inspecting it. He swallowed hard at her soft touch. It was

strange for him; to be so close to a woman. It was as though it finally sunk in. He was

going to marry this woman one day, and he would experience so much more than this

subtle touch. It was inevitable. One day she'd be his. All of her, and only his. "Did you

find anything?"

She srunched her nose up as she responded, "You have long fingers, and they're bit

calloused, so I think that..." She looked around the room once again, before pointing

to the piano and exclaiming, "That's it! You play the piano."

"H-How did you figure that out?"

"Wait! You do?"

He laughed, "Yes, I do!" She just replied, "I was honestly just making it up."

"I see...So, you just wanted to look at my hands than?"

She began to blush as she waved her hands around frantically, "What?! O-of course

not! That's not it, not at all!"

"Okay, okay, whatever you say."

"So, will you play for me then?"

He hesitated due to the pressure, for he wanted to thoroughly impress her. Her puppy

dog eyes wore him down quickly for he agreed.

He sat beside her and began to play what he called 'one of his favourites'.

She recognized it as soon as he started to play, for it was one of her favourites too.

The old hymn, 'Amazing Grace'.

She'd never get tired of it, no matter how many times she heard it in church, or no

matter all the times her dad would whistle to the tune of it while plowing the field, or

when her mother would softly sing the words to herself as she went about her

cleaning. She was glad he had played that one, for she couldn't help but imagine that

he might play it for her again and again, and that when he did, it would remind her of

all the good things in life that God had bestowed upon her in his grace, like a father

who works the fields, a mother who takes care of the home, and a Saviour that had

shed his blood for them all.

She did not wish for it to end, but it eventually did, and she couldn't help but light up

and say, "That was wondeful, Henry! That's one my favourites too."

He smiled and replied, "It must be God's very will that we'd be together than!"