Of Vinegar and Honey, Part III: "Quiet Before the Storm"

Part III of the Of Vinegar and Honey romance series.

“Do you like gardening?” he finally asked.
She nodded with a soft smile. “Very much,” she answered. “It tends to bring me peace. Silly as it may sound since gardening is physical labor after all.” She smiled, lashes down, as she broke off a piece of lemon cake with slender fingers and fingered it into her mouth. “But it’s labor I, for some reason, enjoy.” She looked at him, a crumb lingering on her lip. “Do you think it’s silly, Sir?”
Her slender, tapering fingers have undoubtedly never been in the capable hands of a professional manicurist, he thought, but he had to also admit they were clean and well trimmed, and the unpolished look suited her.
“I don’t think it’s silly at all,” he said uncommonly indulgent—a first since her arrival.
She looked surprised. “No?”
“Well, it can be, but what’s silly to one person isn’t necessarily silly to another, right?”
She smiled and nodded. “Right.” She was happy he understood.
“Take that first night, for example,” he began, and saw her look curiously at him. “When you came to my room?”
“Oh. Yes,” she said, and nodded.
“I was suffering hell, and I must’ve made some noise because I’d awakened you, and you came to my bedside before you laid yourself literally at my feet and massaged the pain away. I mean, you didn’t think that was silly, did you?”
“No, Sir.” She frowned worried at him. “Did you? I-I mean if you did—do,” she quickly corrected, “I assure you, the reason why I do this is, should you feel another painful attack, I’ll be there to stop it before it escalates—”
“—I have to admit, though,” he cut in, “I thought it was pretty silly at first.”
She looked a little apprehensive. “Oh.”
“But I don’t, now.”