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Stockton’s abrupt halt at the door made dirt spray around his boots.
“I shall take my cousin with me.”
Stockton’s sudden scowl was intended, no doubt, as a visual punch in the gut, but Joseph continued. “She will want to see if any gown or fabric can be had in preparation for the ball.”
Frustration eased from Stockton’s shoulders at the logical nature of such a request, and after a nod to both Joseph and Pitman, Stockton strode out.
Pitman looked after him for a breath before facing Joseph, that familiar lack of expression in his thin face. “I shall send a courier ahead and tell our man to await you.”
“Aye, sir.”
“I do believe I shall have a word with Captain Higley…then see if I cannot get Major Stockton to acquiesce.”
A slight lift of his mouth almost had the appearance of a smile as he too left the foundry.
Joseph filled his lungs as one filled a powder horn, careful and full, praying that God would grant the future to not carry more dangers than it already did.
Chapter Eighteen
Ten miles of pitted road might seem a burden on any other day, bu
t not today. Hannah glanced down at her gloved hands, mentally flicking away the budding melancholy that their little journey was nearly half over. The ride to Duxbury had gone far too quickly, their conversation so easy and familiar Hannah ashamedly wished it could have gone on for ten more bumpy miles.
Joseph pulled the horses to a halt in front of a shop, and she glanced to him. He’d not specified to her why he’d brought her along, and though she figured he must have a purpose, she nurtured a hope that perhaps he had simply wished to be with her.
Silent, Hannah prepared to step from the wagon, but Joseph hopped down and hurried around, helping her to the ground. His large hands spanned nearly her entire waist, and foolishly, she wished them to linger, if only a second more.
His grin did funny things to her middle. He motioned to the horses. “Stay here a moment while I inquire as to where this Willis Plains fellow lives.”
“They didn’t tell you?”
He shook his head as he secured the horses. “Nay. Admittedly, I wanted to leave quickly. With so much road to cover, and so little time…” He shrugged away the rest and motioned to her with a single finger. “I’ll not be long.”
Sighing, she turned away, though feminine curiosity wished to keep her vision on him—to linger over the way his strong arms swung as he walked, his long stride powerful and determined.
This town was not unlike the others she knew—both Sandwich and Plymouth were sea towns such as this—small but fair enough to claim the necessities of life. The scent of salt sat so heavy in the misty air, it seemed you could almost taste it.
Across the street was the mantua-maker, several gowns displayed in the large window. She turned at the waist to glance behind, but Joseph was not to be seen, so she darted across the road after a carriage passed and stood at the window, admiring the subtle beauty of the foremost gown. The elegant polonaise, with its simple lines and soft colors—cream with pink and green embroidered flowers at the edges—was perfectly tucked in back to reveal the pink silk petticoat beneath.
Never had she seen such a lovely gown. Not that extravagant gowns were much to her liking. She preferred simple beauty—like the azure floral she’d donned the night before. But this…this was a gown she could feel a woman in. Simplicity. Sophistication. Elegance. She might feel young again in such a gown. Not eight and twenty, far past her years of youth and beauty. Perhaps if she wore such a thing, Joseph would—
“If ever a gown were made for you, that one was.”
Joseph’s voice tapped her mind clear, and she turned as he stepped up beside her, his attention on the window display.
“Lovely.”
She grinned full without and within, following his lead and staring at the heavenly piece. “Aye. ’Tis…” Hannah shrugged, struggling to find the proper description. “’Tis perfection.”
Preparing to step away, ’twas Joseph’s words that stopped her. “If I hadn’t brought you here to dissuade you from going to the ball, I might have purchased this for you.”
A furrow folded over Hannah’s brow, and she was unsure whether to praise or protest. There it was. The reason for his bringing her along. The thought that he would be so concerned over her to insist she not attend tickled her insides in delightful ways, despite the questions that budded to life.
“I thought we already concluded my attendance was unquestionable.”
Joseph nodded to a passing stranger on the road before answering. “Your attendance would be helpful, but ’tis not imperative.”
He cocked his arm, and she took it, allowing a parting look at the beautiful creation before they crossed the street to the wagon.
