Doubt lingered in Dando’s eyes, but he did not argue. “Good night.”
“Yes, good night, and don’t break any hearts, Dando-dear.”
His face went red again, and he quickly left the parlor. She heard the front door open and then close.
After thirty-eight years, she should know the right thing to say to her brother. But so often she said the thing that would have been right for another brother.Don’t break any heartsis what she would have said to Hodge or Jory.No fightingis what she would have said to Nolly.Next year you’ll dance all nightto Simon.
And, to Dando, she should have saidHave fun. Fun could mean flirting with girls, but it could also mean watching the dancing or talking to Cornelius, so Dando could take it any way he liked. And Dando spent more time with horses than people, after all. He deserved some lively fun.
She jumped up, not caring where the stocking or needle went, and ran to the front door. She threw it open and went out into the lane. The sun was already down, and the sky was darkening. She imagined she could hear faint music and merriment, but that was just her imagination. Much Wemby was too far for the sound to travel all the way to Little Wemby.
Dando was thirty yards down the lane already.
“Oy!” she shouted.
Dando turned. She couldn’t see his expression.
She waved. “Have fun!”
He waved back and walked on.
She felt so much better. She sniffed at the fragrant air of the spring night and stared up at the bright moon and the first stars coming out. No matter where one was in the world, the stars were there, although Hodge had once explained to her that the stars were different below the equator. Hodge might be looking at the strange stars of the Antipodes right now.
Or he might be lying on the bottom of an ocean.
She walked back into the cottage. She settled into her chair and stared at the fire. Her mind was filled with absent brothers, Nolly and Jory and Simon and Hodge. Especially Hodge. Hodge had been gone the longest, but, of all her brothers, he’d understood her best. Maybe he’d understood her better than she’d ever understood herself.
In her mind, she gathered them around her. Not as men, but as boys again. Her boys. Hodge, the next oldest after her. Naughty Nolly. Then sweet Simon. Laughing Jory. And baby Dando. What a terrible lot of trouble they all were. And how terribly she loved them all.
“Suuuuuuuusannah.”
She blinked. She must have been lost in her dream for hours since the fire was all embers and ash now.
“Suuuuuuuusannah.”
No, no, no, no. The damn fool. She got up, stiff from being still for so long, and marched to the door with as much dignity as she could muster and threw it open.
Ned Greenway stood in the middle of the lane. Moonlight bathed him in silver, and, for a moment, he looked exactly like the gorgeous boy who’d stolen all her kisses.
He held his arms out. “Come dance with me.”
She stayed in the doorway. “Go home. You’re drunk.”
“Just a little,” he said and staggered, and she had to dartforward to catch him and keep him from falling to the ground. He was so heavy that she almost fell herself.
“Stand up, Ned,” she scolded.
“Sweet Susu,” he crooned and leaned on her even more. His breath reeked of The Swan’s bitter. “Sweet Susu, dance with me.” One of his hands landed on her breast.
“Don’t do that.” She pulled his hand away. “And don’t call me Susu.”
“Be nice, Su—Susannah. Dance with me. I walked all the way here.” He hiccoughed. “All the way to Little Wemby.”
“No.”
“So cruel.”
She wasn’t cruel, but the word was like a knife in her heart. Why must he say such a thing? Why couldn’t he behave well? He had everything he ever wanted.
