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I give a little snort in amusement and she gives me the side eye before turning her attention back to Gabriel, who has a wide grin on his face.
"I need to know if you have anything that would turn a lady's head," he tells her.
My ears burn in embarrassment. What was I thinking that he would flirt with me? Why did I even want him to?
"What kind of lady are we talking about?" asks Mrs. Smith, her simpering slightly subdued with the news that he has a lady.
"I'm not quite sure," he says. "She's quite mysterious. I've tried to get her attention for weeks, and it's like she doesn't even see me. I've decided to now try and buy her affections since nothing else seems to be working."
There's a shaky feeling building up inside of me that I recognize as hope. Is he talking about me?
"Well I do hope that she comes to her senses," purrs Mrs. Smith. "How any woman could resist your charms is beyond me."
After a few more back and forths, Gabriel leaves the store. I have trouble concentrating for the rest of the day. I examine everything he said, looking for a hidden meaning and then cursing myself for even thinking that way. Only later when I'm tucked into bed do I realize that Gabriel left the store without buying anything.
A week passes with no more Gabriel sightings. There's an autumn festival tonight though, and preparation for that, along with the higher number of customers coming into the store, keeps me busy and most important of all, keeps my mind occupied. I avoid most social gatherings but every once in a while, when the loneliness inside of me threatens to choke me, I go to parties, or concerts, or whatever I can find just to feel like I'm a part of something.
I can hear the fiddle as I get closer to the field where the festival is being held. People walk excitedly in groups towards the party, talking and laughing back and forth.
A few people say hello as they meander by, but most people ignore me. The village hermit who goes out of her way to not form relationships of any kind is not the most popular person I've learned.
I try not to let it bother me, but unfortunately, I've always been a person who craved connections. Centuries by myself have somehow not cured me of the longing yet.
When I get to the field, I see that a large circle has formed and there's couples dancing in the center of it while the fiddle plays, and everyone claps along. I stand as close as I can without attracting too much notice, pretending that I'm part of the group. I find myself tapping my foot and clapping my hands along with the joyful song.
Movement to my left catches my attention and I see that Gabriel is asking one of the village widows to dance. Mrs. Hadley may have white liberally streaked throughout her hair, but even she can't resist Gabriel's eyes it seems. He's gracious and charming and only gently moves Mrs. Hadley's hands when they wander too close to his perfect arse.
I watch him for a few more dances. Despite the crowd of adoring eligible women who would bite off their arm for a chance at his attention, he concentrates on those who are overlooked. The widows, the children, those who have disabilities.
Studying him close, I try to see if he's just doing it to put on a show, to look even better for his admirers, but I can't see any evidence of it. He never looks at the gaggle of girls watching his every move. He gives his utmost attention to everyone he's with like they're the only person on the earth.
When I feel myself longing to be the person he's paying attention to, I walk away to one of the many booths that are selling treats and an assortment of other goodies.
I'm just about to bite into a candied apple when I hear someone clear their throat behind me. I whirl around and am shocked to see Gabriel standing there, his hands in the pocket of his breeches.
"Hello Master Williams," I say politely, curtsying slightly.
The sun is setting, and the fading light casts a golden glow over his features, making his hair look more blond than red. His eyes dance, humor and kindness radiating from within them.
"Are you enjoying yourself, Juliet?" he asks, catching me off guard with his lack of formality.
I cock my head, examining him. I just watched him go out of his way to make every outlier in the community feel like the most special person in the world. Is this why he's talking to me? Because I'm the village freak?
"A few minutes with you isn't going to change my life," I tell him, not bothering to answer his question.
His eyes widen in response.
"Pardon me?" he asks, his face full of confusion.
"I'm not one of your charity cases," I respond rudely. "Dancing with me isn't going to change the fact that I'm the village pariah."
His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. It appears that I've shocked him into silence.
I mockingly give him a curtsy, and then I turn and briskly walk away, wiping hot, frustrated tears from my eyes as I do so. What is wrong with me?
"Juliet, wait!" he calls from behind me. I hear him following me, and I speed up my walk until I'm almost jogging. The last thing I want is for him to see me cry.
"Stop," he says imploringly, right behind me. There's a barbed wire fence blocking my exit and I debate just trying to hop over it, consequences be damned. Deciding that getting my petticoats entangled in barbed wire would just cause me more trouble at the moment, I turn and look at him reluctantly.
