What was this about?
Clarissa burst into the room looking more lovely than ever. Her honey-colored hair was piled on her head and her dress was a green so pale it could almost be white. She wore a locket around her neck and long gloves that had been a gift from the matrons.
“Clarissa,” Gemma said in wonder. “You could pass for a lady of the first water.”
Her friend laughed, pleased by the compliment. “Do you think Mr. Thurlowe will like me?”
There it was.
Gemma took a deep breath and spoke the truth. “He will believe you are the most beautiful woman there.”
Clarissa’s eyes sparkled. “I hope so.” She took a step closer to Gemma. “I’m going to see if he’ll kiss me tonight.”
This was not a conversation Gemma wanted. “Clarissa—”
“He’s kissed me,” the woman charged on, speaking over Gemma’s protest. “But I had to practically beg for it. Tonight, I want a real kiss.”
“And what is a real kiss?” Gemma was thankful she was sitting.
“One he wants to give me. One from his heart.”
“Ah.” The word seemed to hang in the air and then, realizing more should be said, Gemma managed a weak, “I’m certain you will be successful—”
Clarissa cut her off with a gloved hand on her shoulder. “But I’m not here about my plans. Gemma, you must come to the dance.”
Gemma picked up the tray of salt packets and rose from the chair, wanting to put distance between herself and Clarissa’s idea. “I don’t enjoy dances.”
“I can’t believe that is true,” was the bold reply. “When I first met you, we talked about the dances you attended. You said you loved to dance.”
“I’ve changed.”
“Why?”
Gemma frowned, put out. “Where is this coming from? Who are you to tell me what I like and don’t like?”
“Exactly.” Clarissa straightened. “Now you are the person I know. I have no idea why you are hiding away, but please don’t. This is going to be great fun and, to be honest, I need you there.”
“Because?”
“Because I feel alone much of the time. And I wish I were like you. I wish I were brave enough to go out into the world as you have. You never appear to worry about what other people think.”
Genuinely touched, Gemma said, “Clarissa, you are well loved in this village.”
“Unfortunately, not always included. The Nelson girls have already let me know that I am not to dance with any of the young men they have an eye on, which is half the parish. People will congratulate me on my upcoming marriage and then whisper once I’ve passed that I’m an orphan, that I don’t belong. It would be nice to have someone there I trust.”
Someone she trusted. Gemma could relate to those words.
“Besides,” Clarissa said, “you are a part of this community. Youneedto be there. This evening is about celebrating all of us.”
The front doorbell tinkled again. A woman’s voice called, “Clarissa,come. You only said you would be a minute.”
Clarissa looked to Gemma and made a face. “That is Jane.” Jane was one of Squire Nelson’s daughters.
“The Nelsons are waiting for you?”
“Yes, out front. I begged them to let me talk to you.”
“Clarissa, you must go,” Gemma answered.
