She knew what everyone must be thinking, with her as a new bride, but she could see no way around it. Too many people had smiled indulgently as Peter made the purchase, and she did not want to seem to be at outs with him despite her continued irritation over his high-handedness about her cousin.
She turned the dolly over in her hands again. It was charmingly made. Someone must have labored long into the night to create it.
“Very well,” she said with a sigh, and handed the dolly to Peter for pinning.
He moved close to her, her skirts foaming around his ankles as he bent slightly to pin the dolly to her pelisse. His warm cheek nearly brushed hers, and she discreetly inhaled a little of his delicious scent of bay rum and warm husband.
Peter’s hands fumbled about until he finally grasped a pinch of the fabric, holding it away from her skin so she would not be pricked by the pin as he carefully inserted it and then let go.
“There you have it,” he crowed. He took both of her hands in his and swung them. “And it looks fine indeed.”
She looked up at him and he went still for a moment, gazing at her so warmly that she hoped this was it. This was finally the moment when he would say?—
Then one of the fairgoers bumped Peter from behind and the spell was broken. Peter laughed a little and placed her hand back on his arm.
“We shall show everyone that we found the best corn dolly.” He looked down at her again, his eyes still filled with that warmth that had made her heart stutter. “And that I have the prettiest wife of all.”
She ducked her head and blushed, but allowed him to lead her further into the festival.
Exhilarated,Peter guided Georgie through the crowd, occasionally stopping to chat for a moment or two, but quickly moving on so his wife would be able to see the whole event. He loved being able to see the fair through her eyes, her enthusiasm as she applauded Punch and Judy and gasped at the acrobats, clutching his arm as they leapt from impossible heights and safely landed again.
He lovedher.
The realization struck him like a bolt from the blue, like a cannonball to the chest, taking his breath away in a great rush.
He loved her.
He looked down at her, only able to see the brim of her bonnet until she tilted her head up, her face bright with laughter that faded a little with the intensity of his look.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he said. This was neither the time nor the place for such a declaration, here in public surrounded by a crowd.
But tonight, when they returned home. He would tell her tonight.
Greatly daring, he bent and brushed his lips against her soft cheek, right there in the middle of the whole village, and all the surrounding villages as well. She laughed and put her hand to her cheek.
“Really, Peter!”
“Come,” he said, slipping his arm around her waist to guide her through a particularly dense part of the crowd. “We musthave some of Mr. Jordison’s apple turnovers. He only makes them for the Harvest Festival.”
He would tell her of his feelings tonight. And hope she returned them.
Georgie had never been happierin her life.
As he guided her through the crowds, the casual atmosphere and her gentle questions encouraged him to open up to her more than he ever had before, sharing the story of the Harvest Festival-related feud among the church elders that was causing the delay in repairing the church roof.
Georgie frowned. “Poor Miss Dinsdale. No wonder she was throwing herself at you. Being jilted so publicly would make her desperate for an even better match.”
Peter shrugged. “She is a nice enough girl, I suppose. But so young.”
“I know both of them from the Ladies’ Auxiliary. Perhaps I could speak with them and see if we can encourage them to end the feud from their side.”
Peter grinned down at her. “Thank you for wanting to help, but there’s no need. I’m sure everything will be fine once Miss Dinsdale gets over her pique.”
That stung a bit, but Georgie shrugged it off. The Harvest Festival was not the place to get into a brangle about her role in the parish. She would concentrate on enjoying herself and worry about the Dinsdales later.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a splendid whirl as they explored the booths and tried out the games of chance. They shared pork pasties and a mug of ale and wandered arm-in-arm until the setting sun alerted Peter it was time for his speech.
