“Yes, of course, Father Josiah.”
“May grace guide your steps,” he croons after her.
“And yours.” She gives me a glance over her shoulder and leaves the room without a word. Just before she shuts the door, I see the curious gleam in her eyes.
Sighing, I move back to the bed and sit down. “You look tired,” Josiah says.
“I am.”
“And yet utterly beautiful all the same,” he says, moving closer.
I stiffen as he comes within arm’s reach, but I don’t pull away. I keep telling myself it’s going to get easier to stomach him touching me, but that hasn’t quite happened yet. Soon, though, I’m sure. “Thank you.”
His fingers run along my jaw before he pulls my chin up so that I’m looking at him. “Are you ready, my dear?”
There’s an iota of concern in his tone. Concern for who, though? For me—or h
