Chapter Thirty One #2
‘That I may be a better dancer than you,’ he said with a note of triumph.
He knew exactly what I’d been thinking, that I’d begun to acknowledge there was something more to our friendship that day, however slight.
He knew I was experiencing feelings and emotions I’d never had before.
I didn’t know just what they were, or I didn’t want to admit what Cassy had hinted might begin a change inside me, a fluttering of desire, a yearning to know what it would be like to be kissed, just once.
‘I’m finding it’s a little warm in here, that’s all,’ I answered quickly, and when I managed to look at him again I saw him smirking. I was determined not to let him see how he affected me. ‘It’s just the heat of the summer storm. Come, let us not dally or we’ll never have you ready.’
I saw him raise an eyebrow, but he suggested we dance this time, from the beginning.
I knew it would be a challenge for him if he was unsure of the steps; the rapid movements where we’d be switching feet, arms and direction from left to right in quick succession, but I’d had enough of his saucy teasing.
I was going to show him how I could dance.
We began again, and there was little time to stand and stare - I needed to use all my concentration if I was to win his respect.
I was shocked to find that he excelled at the dance, not putting a foot wrong, and the thought crossed my mind that I’d been misled for his own amusement and motives, though I hardly dared to think what they might be.
I was careful not to look at him, and before the dance was over I knew he’d lied to me.
I’d never danced with anyone more sure-footed, he was even a finer dancer than Henry, but I couldn’t bring myself to praise him, and decided that would probably wound him more.
If he craved attention, he wasn’t going to get it.
When it finished, we were both out of breath. Thomas still held my hand and as I started to pull it away, he increased the pressure on my fingers, forcing me to meet his steady gaze. ‘You won’t ever leave me, will you, Jane?’
His eyes were sincere, and when he pulled me closer I did nothing to stop him. He fascinated me, and as I stared back into his hypnotic eyes, he bent his head toward me. For the briefest moment I felt his lips on mine.
The sound of rain drumming on the roof ceased at the same time, and I broke away, longing to get out, to feel fresh air on my burning face.
As I ran outside I saw Robinson with the stable boys riding into view, and knew I could not stay a moment longer.
I picked up my skirts and ran back to the house.
For the rest of the afternoon I took myself off down the garden to the fields beyond the formal parterres to lose myself in daydreams about Thomas.
The sun shone once again, and the thunderstorm became a memory.
I did not think I would ever hear a storm again without the association of dancing with Thomas as the rain gurgled down the gutters.
The heat was sultry; birds soared and swooped in grateful thanks up into a periwinkle sky.
I wandered into a green meadow enclosed by tall hedges entwined by dog roses and honeysuckle, and in the middle of the long vetch I found a patch of heaven.
Grass like a bed of green velvet under a broad oak tree was like an island in the sea of emerald blades and wild flowers, richly enamelled in blues and pinks.
I lay down in the damp pasture and watched the play of light through the leaves dancing up above me, and when I turned my head to look through the green stalks spattered with white daisies, I saw one next to my eye, perfect and white, unfurling its petals in an effort to feel the sun’s caress.
I stretched out on the grass and imagined Thomas there with me, saying he was sorry for leading me astray, that it had all been a plan so he could hold me in his arms. He was lying down beside me, and gazing into my eyes, just as he had in the dance, and before I could stop myself, I dreamed of him pulling me closer.
I could smell his special scent as I imagined burying my face into his shirt, but then he was pulling away to stare back into my eyes, telling me he’d never known anyone so beautiful, before he leaned over to brush my mouth with his lips.
I sat up, breathless and hot in the shade, longing for Thomas’s spirited kiss in my dream.
***
When I returned to the cool of my room I found a letter waiting on my dressing table, along with a mysterious parcel wrapped in Indian silk.
With fumbling fingers I untied the shimmering cloth and discovered a painted box inside, showing a scene depicted on the lid of two lovers meeting in a leafy wood exchanging gifts.
I could not decide whether to open the box or read the letter first, but my curiosity to see from whom it came was greater than any desire to look at the contents.
The box alone was beautiful, I’d never ever received anything quite so precious in my life before. I opened the letter.
Dearest Jane,
I beg your acceptance of this little trifle - a chain for your uncle’s locket.
You ought to have had it a week ago, but there has not been an opportunity to bestow it before now or an occasion for you to wear it.
I thought it might do for the dinner and ball tomorrow evening in place of the ribbon you have been wearing.
I hope you will like the chain itself, Jane - I endeavoured to consult the simplicity of your taste; but, at any rate, I know you will be kind to my intentions, and consider it, as it really is, a token of love from one of your dearest friends.
I beg one further indulgence - in my quest to remain fondly in your memory please find it in your heart to look with warm remembrance on the enclosed portrait, which you should find will fit your pendant quite perfectly.
Your loving cousin,
Thomas
There, on a pad of cotton was a plain gold chain, perfectly simple and neat. It was the very thing, precisely what I liked. I knew it would exactly suit my pendant, and they’d always be worn together. As for the portrait, I tucked it safely inside, a secret I intended keeping forever.