If anyone noticedLucy and Mrs. Tucker returning to the town square with Mr. Harrison, Lucy couldn’t tell. As they approached the dancing area, Mr. Harrison took Lucy’s hand and led her to a spot on the outside edge of the dancers. Lucy leaned toward him, not wanting to miss the chance to vex him one more time. “Don’t worry too much about yer lack of dancin’ experience. Everyone is here for their own enjoyment. They won’t be watchin’ us.”
Mr. Harrison’s jaw slid to one side. She’d touched a nerve. The violinists played under the porch of the inn, and despite the fact that their music faded quickly in the open air, the dancers had more energy than she’d seen at any London ball.
Mr. Harrison turned, gave her a wink, and pulled her into his arms. His hand was warm at her waist and he smiled in the practiced way that so many gentlemen in London did. She’d spent the last three weeks on a cart with Mr. Harrison, and if she hadn’t known who he was, she’d never have thought this gruff, silent laborer could transform into the perfectly postured gentleman standing before her. His face looked foreign, yet somehow familiar at the same time. “I’ll try to stumble through it,” he said, then whisked her away in an expertly executed turn.
The dance was a polka, full of energy and quick steps, and Mr. Harrison wasted no time showcasing his skill at it. Lucy returned his gentlemanly smile with a ladylike one of her own, then threw herself into the dance.
In London, she danced because she was compelled to, at times. She was already betrothed, so no man danced with her in the hopes of furthering a relationship. But in the town square of Fenswallow, with her fiancé leading her? This dance felt different. Each twist and turn had her smiling so hard, she laughed. Each time she followed one of his more difficult leads, his smile grew broader, and Mr. Harrison seemed to treat it like a challenge.
Luckily, Lucy loved a challenge. Mr. Harrison narrowed one eye just before a turn, and she knew he would add a quick hop to his step. When he did so, she matched him perfectly. They turned and repeated the hop step, feeding off of each other’s energy until they were zipping past other dancers and jumping higher than anyone around them.
They were both breathing heavily by the time the dance was nearly over, but Lucy had no desire to stop. She’d caught a glimpse of what life with him in London could have been like, and she didn’t want it to end. Mr. Harrison’s steps lowered and became less intricate as the volume of the music softened. Only when he went back to the most basic of steps did she realize everyone else had stopped dancing.
As the final notes of the polka played and she bowed to Mr. Harrison, the townsfolk, who had all crowded around the dancing area, started clapping. Lucy spun around. Mrs. Tucker had rejoined Mr. Miner and they both were smiling at them. Mrs. Tucker raised her eyebrows at Lucy and gave her a nod of approval. The Garvis family stood just outside the inn, and Mandy jumped up and down, waving at the two of them. Even Mr. Victor seemed impressed.
Mr. Harrison waved back to Mandy, took Lucy’s hand and started in the Garvis family’s direction. Lucy laughed and followed behind him, the euphoria of the moment still spreading through her limbs.
Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of one person, not smiling, not clapping, not looking impressed. Miss Creighton stared directly at Lucy with her arms folded across her chest.
Blast. Lucy’d forgotten to keep an eye out for her. Worse, she’d put on a display with that dance, guaranteeing Miss Creighton would see them.
“That was magnificent,” Mrs. Garvis said, as soon as they were near enough to hear her. “I’m not surprised that Miss Shroud dances well, but where did you learn, Mr. Scarper?”
Mr. Harrison shrugged. “I’ve been practicing with Marge.”
Mandy snorted. “With Marge? She’s a horse! A slow one!”
“Well…” Mr. Harrison bent down and touched Mandy on the nose. “You obviously haven’t seen her dance. It was quite the adjustment, slowing down enough so that Miss Shroud could keep up.”
He squeezed Lucy’s hand, then dropped it. He was being so playful, smiling more than she’d seen since he caught the goose on their first day together. Life wasn’t fair. She couldn’t even enjoy this time with him and the Garvises, because she eyed Miss Creighton steadily pushing past people on the perimeter of the dancing area and coming their way. At the speed she was going, Lucy had less than a minute to find a way to keep Mr. Harrison away from her, because based on the looks she was giving them, Miss Creighton definitely recognized Lucy.
“Dance with me again,” Lucy said. She took Mr. Harrison’s hands in her own and pulled him back toward the square. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t protest. In fact, once they reached the first of the couples lining up to dance, he spun heraround and pulled her into the center of the square with a smile so carefree, it actually hurt to look at it.
Mr. Harrison was likely to receive some unsettling news after this dance—news that would wipe that grin right off of his face. The violinists started the slow strains of a waltz and Mr. Harrison snapped into his London posture: back straight, right hand high on her shoulder blade. His smile transformed into earnest propriety. If they had been in London, his stance would have made sense, but here in Fenswallow, with everyone else relaxing into more casual waltzing positions, the two of them looked as though they were pretending to be sophisticated.
Well, Lucy was done pretending. She didn’t want Mr. Harrison pretending to be the person he’d been before coming to Fenswallow. She wanted him to be the man he was now. Not Mr. Scarper, and not Mr. Harrison. Just him. The man with whom she’d sat on a cart for weeks.
Matthew. Matthew Harrison.
Instead of settling into the perfect pose her dance master had taught her, Lucy took a deep breath and settled in closer to the man she’d slowly been falling in love with. Matthew stiffened for a brief moment, then his hand wrapped farther around her back, pulling her into him. She rested her chin upon his shoulder and he led them, spinning around the town square with no flourishes or complicated turns, only the most basic of steps.
“You’ve been acting strange today, Miss Shroud.”
Lucy smiled and tipped her head, brushing his cheek with her hair. “Let’s be honest with each other. I’ve been strange every day, Mr. Scarper.”
“But today is the first time you’ve sought me out for something other than business.”
“Aye,” she replied. “Do ye mind?”
“I should,” he said.
“Can I ask ye something?”
“Please.”
“Yesterday I implied that I found ye quite handsome. I might have even let ye know I found ye charming. Yet ye did nothin’.” Somewhere in the back of Lucy’s brain, her pride reared up in rebellion, but she tamped it down. At any moment, Miss Creighton could walk up to Matthew and tell him everything she knew. She needed to know his feelings for her, the sooner the better. “Why is that?”
He took a deep breath, but didn’t answer. They continued to dance, sweeping the ground with fluid moments. Just when she thought either he hadn’t heard her properly over the music or he was ignoring her again, Matthew spoke. His voice was low, just above her ear. “What could I do? I have nothing to offer you or anyone else. Less than nothing. Have you ever seen me encourage a woman? I’m not in a position to do so.”
