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“Of course.” She took his hand easily, gratefully, glad that she wouldn’t stand on the side any longer. “I’m still not much of a dancer, you know.”
“I’m good enough for both of us,” Lucas said with an impish grin. “And fortunately we’re both wearing sturdy shoes. Our toes should be all right.”
Ellen thought of Louisa’s silk slippers, dyed to match her dress, and suppressed a flash of jealousy. She wondered if Jed was as good a dancer as Lucas. She knew Maeve Lyman had taught both her sons to dance, humming a tune as they waltzed around the kitchen table, but Ellen couldn’t see Jed taking to it the way Lucas did. No doubt he’d step all over Louisa’s poor slippered feet. The thought gave her a surge of satisfaction.
Lucas led her with easy confidence, his hand steady on her waist. He smiled down at her, his hazel eyes glinting. “You’re good.”
“Only because I’m letting you lead,” Ellen said with a little laugh.
“It would look rather strange if you led,” Lucas observed, and Ellen smiled.
“I suppose it would.” Her gaze moved from Lucas’ smiling face to the couple just over his shoulder.
Lucas, seeing her gaze, glanced back, his mouth hardening just a little. “Jed shouldn’t dance in his work boots,” he said after a moment. “He’ll wreck Louisa’s feet.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Ellen said, although she felt uncomfortable admitting as much to Lucas. And although she noticed that Jed could not be said to be a graceful dancer, he wasn’t stomping around the dance floor either.
“I don’t know what he sees in Louisa,” Lucas remarked. “She’s such a spoiled, vain creature. Hardly the kind of girl for Jed.”
Ellen tried to keep her voice casual as she asked, “does he really like her, then?”
Lucas shrugged. “Who knows? But Jed doesn’t usually ask anybody to dance.”
How could Jed like Louisa? She struggled to keep herself from tensing as Lucas guided her around the dance floor. Or was he so shallow that he was taken in by her pretty looks and airs? If that was the case, they deserved each other. And, Ellen told herself fiercely, it had nothing to do with her. She couldn’t care less—
Lucas touched her chin with his finger, tilting her face upwards. “You’re scowling, Ellen.”
She tried to smile. “Just concentrating on the dance steps.”
There was no reason, Ellen told herself, for her spirits to sink when Jed danced with Louisa again, especially as she found herself never short of a dance partner for the rest of the evening. After the dance with Lucas, there was always another island boy eager for her hand, and Ellen accepted every invitation, refusing to take any notice of either Jed or Louisa or what they might be doing.
Several hours later, with the soft night settling over the farmyard, the lanterns lit and the music still going strong, Ellen fanned herself with her hand as she finished another dance, and suddenly found Jed right in front of her.
She stiffened, remembering her embarrassment, and his mouth curved in a smile, his eyes lightening to silver. “You’re not cross at me now, are you, Ellen?”
“I thought you were cross at me,” Ellen admitted, her voice just a little stiff. “Because of that silly joke about the cow...”
His smile deepened, revealing a dimple in one cheek that Ellen hadn’t even known about. “I couldn’t stay mad about that for long.” Another tune started up, and she slapped a mosquito away from her arm. Jed held his arms out with a shrug. “We might as well dance.”
It was so far from a proper invitation that Ellen was stung to reply, “Not if you’d rather dance with Louisa.”
Jed looked at her in surprise. “Ellen Copley, are you jealous?” He sounded so smug that Ellen decided she most certainly was not jealous.
She fixed him with her haughtiest look, borrowed straight from Louisa, and said, “What do you think?”
He shook his head. “You couldn’t be jealous,” he said, “not when you barely have two words to say to me.” Ellen opened her mouth to refute this accusation, but before she could say anything he had reached for her hand. “Now let’s dance before the song ends and I have to go home to put the cows to bed.”
It felt strange to be so close to Jed, one hand, warm and dry, clasping h
ers, the other lightly touching her waist. She was eye level with his chin, and could see the dark stubble glinting there, and the strong pulse in his throat. Jed was surprisingly light on his feet, and Ellen prayed she wouldn’t stumble.
“You couldn’t be jealous,” Jed resumed, his voice pitched low for only her ears, “because you don’t even like me.”
Ellen glanced up, surprised. “That’s not true.”
Jed raised one eyebrow in blatant skepticism. “Really, Miss Bossy?”
Ellen gave a little smile. “You might have been the most ill-tempered boy when I first met you, but you’ve improved a little.”
