Chapter 28 #2
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ethan said. “We have finished our deliberations and have the pleasure of announcing the winners of the Chudleigh Bottoms Pudding Contest.”
Carrying the prizes, James and Grantley strode to the table where the contestants awaited behind their entries. Xenia, Evie, and Gigi gripped hands in nervous excitement. Gigi grabbed onto Finn, who gave Owen an amused grin.
“The third prize is awarded to Widow Newsom’s apple pudding,” Ethan announced.
The audience applauded as James presented her with a handsome glazed pudding basin.
“And for the second prize,” Ethan said.
Murmurs of anticipation rose from the crowd.
Tansy said in a whisper-shout, “Give it to the fancy pudding! It looks pretty but ain’t as tasty as Mrs. Pettigrew’s.”
“Not so loud, Tansy,” Finn said under her breath.
“The second prize goes to…”
Ethan drew out the moment, the violins swelling.
“Mrs. Ames for her cabinet pudding.”
“I knew it!” Tansy sang.
James gave the tearful Mrs. Ames a copper saucepan.
“Finally, I have the pleasure of awarding the first prize to our very own Mrs. Pettigrew,” Ethan said. “For her Bloody Poor Knights of Windsor pudding, accompanied by a sauce made from Chuddums’s cherries.”
The cheers were deafening as Grantley presented Mrs. Pettigrew with a covered silver serving dish and placed a ribbon next to her pudding.
“My congratulations to the talented contestants,” Ethan said following a final round of applause. “I invite visitors to continue enjoying the best of Chuddums. Now I will turn the stage over to those who wish to dance.”
Lamps were lit around the makeshift dance floor as the sun sank beneath the horizon. The quartet struck up a lively country tune, and dancers rushed to form two lines. Seeing Finn tapping her foot, Owen took his opportunity.
“Would you care to dance?” he asked.
“I would.” She bit her lip. “But Tansy—”
“Is fully occupied.”
They both looked over to the pudding table, where Tansy was wheedling another sample from a glowing Mrs. Pettigrew.
“Xenia and the others will keep an eye on her.” Owen extended a hand. “Shall we?”
Finn placed her hand in his. “Yes, please.”
Dancing with Owen was almost as thrilling as making love with him.
Finn laughed giddily as they performed a reel.
It was an inexpressible joy to have a partner who could keep up.
A natural dancer, Owen matched her step for step as they wove in and out of the formations.
Each time they separated, she felt bereft.
Then he would return and her heart would thump at how attractive he was.
He moved with confidence, a sensual smile in his eyes.
Each time they touched, she felt a sizzle in her blood.
He turned her in exhilarating whirls, then sent her back into the line to dance with other members of the set.
How she wanted him to herself; his smoldering gaze conveyed that he had similar ideas.
Perhaps tonight after the fair, she could sneak out to meet him…
The reel ended, and a polka began.
“Is it too forward of me to claim a second dance?” Owen asked.
“I am hardly a debutante.” She winked. “You can have more than a dance, if you wish.”
“Do not tempt me. We’ll dance first. Later, you can entertain me in other ways.”
Oh, she couldn’t wait.
The polka was even more delightful than the reel.
Owen took her into his arms, his masterful maneuvers stealing her breath.
They glided over the hard-packed dirt as if it were a marble floor, and he led so beautifully that she let him.
When he guided her through the turns, he tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her close.
She leaned in, pressing herself into his hard length.
In the darkness, pleasure ruled and propriety melted into the shadows.
They spun and swayed, getting closer with each spin, exchanging heated promises with their eyes.
When the song ended, she was dizzy with the truth: she loved Owen Harrington. It was no longer a choice. She’d fallen deeply and irrevocably for him.
“Hold that thought,” he said in a low voice. “Until I can get you alone somewhere.”
She wetted her lips. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Because I’m thinking the same thing.”
“You’re thinking that you are incredibly handsome?” she teased.
He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
She did, but she was still afraid to put her feelings into words.
It was one thing to lose her heart to this man and another to tell him about it, especially with things so unsettled.
Maybe after they found the treasure, she could find a way to tell him the truth.
If anyone would understand her predicament, he would.
He was as close to his kin as she was to hers, and his fancy family motto had to do with loyalty—
“Finn!”
Nell raced over.
Finn froze. “What is it?”
“Have you seen Tansy?”
“Oh. Yes, she’s standing by the pudding…”
Finn trailed off, seeing no sign of Tansy at the table. She scanned the area alertly…and didn’t see the girl amongst the crowd.
“She’s probably with Simon. Or with the ladies,” she said.
She had already started moving, Owen and Nell flanking her. They found Owen’s family at the Thorntons’ stall, enjoying mulled cider and handheld pies.
“Where’s Tansy?” Owen said tersely.
Xenia drew her brows together. “I think she and Simon went to look for something…”
“Roasted chestnuts,” Evie supplied. “Tansy was hungry again.”
Finn headed toward the nut hawker. Learning that Tansy was with Simon didn’t alleviate her growing sense of unease. As darkness had fallen, the fair had grown rowdier. Several drunken brawls had broken out, and she heard animal moans coming from an alley.
When Finn spotted Simon—alone—her heart crashed into her ribs.
He didn’t even notice her; his gaze was glued to the demonstration being given by the blacksmith.
Beneath an open awning, the smith withdrew a piece of red-hot metal from the coals, placed it on the anvil, and lowered his hammer with a skillful clang.
“Simon!” Finn called.
He turned, smiling and pointing at the smith. “Make latch. For gate.”
“Never mind that. Where’s Tansy?”
“Use necessary.” Simon furrowed his brow. “Not back?”
The nasty feeling spread in Finn’s gut. “How long has she been gone?”
He scratched his ear. “Dunno. Watch smith.”
“She’s been gone a while now.”