“It couldna hurt,” Mrs. Ferguson said.
The more Arran thought about the idea, the more he liked it.
He hoped it would help Eleanor interact with the other families.
But more than that, he liked the idea of dancing with her again.
The soft sound of dripping water fell from the eaves of the house as Eleanor sat near the fireplace, sewing a small dress for Miriam. In the seat opposite her, William sat with his Bible, reading silently as he held it up to the firelight. Governor Semple had left that morning with his secretary, Mr. Pritchard, for his trip to Brandon House, and Nicolette had gone into the room she shared with Eleanor to put Miriam down to sleep.
The only person missing was Arran. He had left directly after supper to help move the long tables in the main hall, where there was to be a dance.
A log popped in the fireplace, sending a cascade of embers up the chimney. The faint scent of woodsmoke filled the room and mingled with the aroma of fresh-baked biscuits, which Nicolette had made for their Sunday morning breakfast the following day.
William set his Bible on his lap and quietly stared into the flames.
Eleanor glanced up at his movements and admired the profile of his face. He was a handsome man, in a sort of scholarly way. He wasn’t very tall, but his presence was large, especially when he preached. He wore his light brown hair short and combed back, and when he read, he set a pair of spectacles on the bridge of his nose. In almost every way, he was Arran MacLean’s opposite, though Eleanor had no reason to compare the two men. They were as different as night and day, each serving with their own God-given purpose.
“Will you attend the dance?” he asked, shifting his gaze from the fire to her face, catching her watching him.
She set her sewing on her lap, almost certain that she would be ignored again, but determined to win over the colonists. “I believe I will.”
“Do you like to dance?”
A small smile tilted the edges of her mouth. “I enjoy almost nothing more.”
He watched her, a bit intently. “Do you think they will want you there?”
It was no secret that the colonists were uncertain of her. She had held school for five days in a row and the only children who had attended were the Fergusons. When she had gone to the colonists’ homes, and asked if their children planned to come, they had given one excuse after the other. Not only had it been disappointing, but she’d also been humiliated. She didn’t want more of the same at the dance, but she wouldn’t give up now.
“I don’t know if they will talk to me, but I can’t miss an opportunity to try. Will you attend?”
“No.” He smiled and shook his head. “I do not believe I shall. I find my presence at such gatherings puts a damper oneveryone’s fun. They think they must behave a certain way, or I will pass judgment on them.”
“Do you mind missing it?”
Again, he shook his head. “I am not a good dancer, so I do not miss such things.”
Her thoughts slipped to Arran, who was a good dancer. Her cheeks warmed thinking about their dances together at St. Mary’s Isle. He had left her breathless with delight each time he held her in his arms.
She caught William watching her, so she said, “Surely, you can dance.”
He slowly removed the spectacles from his nose and set them on a nearby table. “I’m sorry, Eleanor. I used to be more exciting. There was a time when I would not have hesitated to ask a pretty lady to a dance. Before I became a minister, and before—” He swallowed and looked down at his clasped hands. “Before Anne,” he said quieter.
Compassion tightened Eleanor’s chest. She reached over and gently placed her hand on top of his. “I know.”
He looked at her hand for a heartbeat, then laid one of his own over it. “Thank you. I long to ask you—”
The front door opened, and Arran strode in. His eyes took in the scene in an instant.
Eleanor pulled back her hand, while a rush of heat crept up her neck. She had done nothing wrong but felt guilty all the same.
Slowly, Arran closed the door.
William rose from his seat and held the back of his chair as he faced Arran. “Is everything set for the dance?”
“Aye.” Arran looked from William to Eleanor. “Are you ready to go?”
She glanced at William and then back at Arran. “Yes, though I’m afraid no one will want me there.”
