But why? What was it about her? There had been that kiss, of course, and his conviction at the time that he was in love with her. But…Well. It had all been so unexpected and soforbiddenthat he had squashed both the memory and the feeling with the ruthless discipline he had always applied to his military life.
However…
Well, he was free now. But was she?
This wasnotthe time to get engulfed in such thoughts. They had crossed the bridge and were almost immediately swallowed up by the crowds already gathering on the village green and in the streets surrounding it. Robert wanted to get down and went dashing off with some other children—new or old friends, it never seemed to matter which to children. All the children seemed headed toward the maypole, which had just been carried out from the inn and was being erected on one side of the green, its brightly colored ribbons fluttering in the breeze.
Children darted in and out among the vending booths that had been set up around two sides of the green, though there was little to be seen yet. They would remain covered until after the opening ceremony. The children were undeterred. Some of them dashed toward the duck pond in the center of the green, but the wise ducks had stayed away today. One little boy, who became instantly popular, had brought a boat, which he pulled along with a string. Other children clamored for a turn.
Ben was unloading Jennifer’s wheeled chair from a wagon,which had followed the barouche from the house, and then lifting her into it. The barouche drove around the green and over the bridge on its way back to the house. Belinda squeezed herself in beside her mother as Nicholas could remember Joy, Ben’s child from an earlier marriage, doing even before Jennifer married Ben. Joy had chosen her for a new mother just as Ben had chosen her as a second wife. Joy was standing now by the maypole, all long legged and half grown up, arm in arm with Pippa’s Emily and another girl, who might be one of the Coxes from a nearby farm.
Andrew had joined his father. Bertrand had gone inside the inn with Grace and Uncle George and Aunt Kitty, presumably to have some coffee or tea before the opening ceremonies.
Nicholas went to stand beside Winifred, who was looking about her with seeming satisfaction.
“I simply adore the atmosphere here,” she said. “Totally festive, as though the world and all its problems do not even exist. And surely everyone from miles around has turned out, young and old. I do not see a single frown as I look about. How lovely that is. If only we could always be like this.”
One of her unrealistic dreams, like her opposition to all violence. But he knew, as he had not known during that first ball, that she also dealt with harsh reality with a cheerful hope that she could do some good in the world.
“The penalty for anyone who does frown is a night spent in the village dungeons,” he said. “They are reputed to be dark and damp. With spiders.”
She tutted and then laughed. “You made that up on the spot,” she said. “Oh look, the church doors are opening. Does that mean the fete is about to begin?”
“There will be rioting in Boscombe if it does not happen soon,”he said. “Fortunately, we have a vicar who is always punctual and never long-winded. He will begin with a welcome to all and a prayer, and then the children’s choir will sing a few songs.”
“Were you ever a member?” she asked.
“For a while,” he said. “I fancied myself as a singer when I was younger. Gwyneth and I used to sing duets to my pianoforte accompaniment during visits to various neighbors, when music was called for. We used to be very close friends. I believe I spent almost as much of my boyhood at Cartref as I did at home. Unfortunately, people got the wrong idea as we grew older. It was embarrassing to both of us. Some friendships between male and female are just that. Friendships.”
“Yes, indeed,” she said with such conviction that he wondered if perhaps she was thinking of her friendship with Owen.
“The person for whom Gwyneth had nursed a secret passion for years was Devlin,” he said. “He had had a passion for her too but had not said anything because he did not want to tread upon my toes. Absurd, was it not? But all ended well. One only has to look at the two of them now to see that they belong together.”
“You did not just pretend that you did not care because you did not want to hurt either of them?” she said.
“Absolutely not,” he said. “I did not even know their feelings for each other until afterward. Neither gave any hint. I was actually vastly relieved when I did know it. I was a little worried that I had hurt Gwyneth and thatshewas pretending she did not feel that way about me.”
“I wonder how many people get trapped in relationships only because they care about the other person’s feelings and do not wish to hurt them,” she said.
“A good many, I would imagine,” he said. “Honesty is the better policy, do you not think?”
“I do.” She sighed. “Though being open and truthful is not always as easy as it sounds.”
He wondered if she had been hurt. By Owen. But if so, it was better for her to know now than to find out later, when the two of them were trapped in a marriage in which all was brave pretense on the one side and a dawning realization of the truth on the other.
But the children’s choir was lining up on the pavement outside the church under Stephanie and Sir Ifor Rhys’s direction, in two long rows. Some were inclined to chatter and fidget and dart out of line, while others appeared frozen with terror. A few looked about anxiously to locate parents and grandparents in the crowd. Finally, the Reverend Danver emerged from the church in full clerical vestments and raised his arms. Silence fell on his gathered parishioners and their visitors. Even the children miraculously stopped their dashing about and their shrieking.
And it was beginning, yet another summer fete. Nicholas intended to enjoy it to the full, to allow the day’s activities to seep into his bones and nourish his soul. Extravagant words, perhaps, but true, nevertheless.
Winifred Cunningham beside him was gazing at the vicar and choir with glowing eyes and rosy cheeks, and it struck Nicholas that she was actually the most beautiful woman he had known. In her own unique way, that was.
She turned her head briefly his way and smiled at him.
—
It was magical. There was no other word.
The vicar said a short prayer, followed by a brief welcome to the large hushed crowd, and the children’s choir sang three songs to enthusiastic applause. Mrs. Eluned Rhys, head of the organizingcommittee, added a word of welcome and explained briefly what would be available in the village for everyone’s pleasure—vending booths, children’s races, maypole dancing, morning refreshments and midday luncheon outside the inn, or inside for those who wished to withdraw from the sunshine for a short while.
