Agent of the Crown (21 page)

She’d had plenty of admirers in Longbourne,
but hadn’t thought to include Garrett in the group, hadn’t even
considered trying to attract him, because…why? Because he was a
friend, if a more formal one than Maida and Liam; she still called
him Mister Garrett, for heaven’s sake. But now she was having
trouble thinking of him as only a friend.

How did she feel, really? If he was only a
friend, why did the memory of his song make her pulse race and her
cheeks flame? Why did she look forward to seeing him; why did his
fleeting smiles make her so happy?
He’s never been only a
friend
, she thought.
You just weren’t paying
attention.

“No chicken? Too bad,” said Maida.

“Too bad,” Telaine said, grateful not to be
alone with her racing thoughts.

Liam Richardson dropped onto a chair beside
her. “Dancing starts soon, and I want to dance first with you,” he
told Telaine.

“Liam, I don’t know these dances,” Telaine
said.

“Not that hard,” Maida repeated.

“Don’t worry. Got a lot of men lined up to
dance with you, make sure you feel welcome,” Liam said, winking.
“’Cept Irv Tanner. Went all green when I asked him. Don’t know what
you done to him, but I like the effect. He ain’t nearly as bullying
since you came to town.”

Telaine heard Garrett’s magnificent voice
rise above the noise of the crowd, and shivered. “You cold?” Liam
asked. She shook her head.

“Happen somebody walked over your grave,”
Maida said.

“Hush that! No talk of death at a wedding,
thanks,” Liam said.

The singing stopped, and the crowd applauded.
Telaine joined in, once again with no idea of what she was
applauding. “Now there’s dancing. Don’t go anywhere, Lainie, I’m
coming right back.”

Maida winked at her. “There’s a man could
make some lucky girl a good husband.”

“You looking to marry?” Telaine teased,
trying to regain her calm. Maida laughed. The sound of the band
tuning up again drifted over the crowd. Movement became more
orderly as men and women sought each other out. Telaine couldn’t
stop herself looking for Garrett. There he was, holding a beer and
talking to some of the other singers. He was more animated than
she’d ever seen him. Probably because she’d only ever seen him when
he was trying, and failing, to talk to her.

“All right, Lainie, I asked ’em to start with
an easy one,” Liam said, taking her hands and pulling her up from
the chair. “It’s four steps, one, two, three, four. Then you change
them a bit.” He demonstrated. “Now you try.”

Telaine took his offered hand and took a few
tentative steps,
one, two
, and on
three
she
accidentally hooked her foot around his ankle and nearly knocked
them both over. “You sure you know how to dance?” Liam said.

“You go to a ball in the city and we’ll see
how well you do,” she retorted.

“I’m teasing, Lainie. Let’s try it
again.”

It can’t be as hard as the Capering
Widow
,
and that nearly crippled me once
. She paid
attention to the beat, and after a few repeats of the steps, Liam
said, “Let’s try it out there,” and led her to where couples hopped
about to the rhythm of the dance.

She tried to keep up with Liam and pretended
she didn’t feel horribly exposed. She’d never danced in public
without the Princess’s mask to hide behind. “
Relax
, Lainie,”
Liam said, grinning at her, and his comical expression made her
laugh.

She tried a variation on the steps, and Liam
matched her, his smile widening. He was right; it was easy. And
fun. No one was watching her perform, no one was judging her dress
or her hair, and for the first time in her life she could dance
just for herself. She threw back her head and laughed, and Liam
laughed with her.

When they finished, both of them out of
breath, Liam said, “Not so hard, right?”

“No,” Telaine said, “but—”

“Dance with me, Lainie?” said Ed Decker,
emerging from the crowd with his hand outstretched. Startled,
Telaine took it, and he drew her back into the dance with no time
to say yes.

For an hour, two hours, she was never without
a partner. Friends from the tavern and men she barely knew
presented themselves one after another, and she learned new dances,
and laughed at her mistakes, and danced again.

Finally, her feet sore, she cried mercy and
went to draw herself another mug of the delicious dark brew before
sitting down at an empty table. Men and women flew past, their
bright colors like a moving tapestry, or like oils swirled together
by an unseen artist. The empty, lonely feeling had vanished. How
fortunate she hadn’t given in to her impulse to leave. She hadn’t
had this much fun in years. Or ever.

“Will you dance with me?”

Surprised, Telaine turned to face Garrett,
who’d come up quietly behind her. Her heart, which had slowed from
the rapid pace of the dance, began beating harder again. She made
herself look at him, afraid of what she might see, but met only his
usual calm gaze. It threw her into more confusion than if he’d once
again had that intimate, questioning look in his eyes.

“The next dance hasn’t started yet,” she
pointed out. It was inane, but better than asking
Why did you
sing to me
? She was afraid of what he might say if she did.

“I know,” Garrett said, pulling out a chair
to sit next to her. “I thought, seeing as how you were so popular,
happen I should ask before someone else swooped down on you.”

The image of a predatory bird winging down
and carrying her off made her smile. “I guess that’s true,” she
said. “I didn’t know—” She paused. “I didn’t know how many friends
I had.”

“More than you know,” he said, and the way he
said it made her blush, as if he’d said something far more
intimate. “There, that’s the next dance. Do you know it?”

“I don’t,” Telaine said. Then, daring, she
stretched out her hand. “Teach me?”

He smiled at that, a familiar smile that made
her cheeks go hot. Taking her hand in his callused one, he led her
away from the tables and demonstrated. Telaine was conscious for
the first time of not wearing gloves, how his hands held hers
gently but firmly, not letting her fall when she nearly tripped
because she could barely hear his instructions over the sound of
her pulse roaring in her ears. “I think we’re ready,” he finally
said.

They stepped into an opening made by the
other dancers, and now Telaine did stumble, and strong hands kept
her from falling. “Steady on,” Garrett said, and guided her until
she regained her poise.

He was an excellent dancer, leading her
without making her feel dragged through the rapid pace of the
dance. When she finally reminded herself
don’t look at your
feet, your Highness, give your partner your attention,
which
was what her first dance instructor had told her constantly when
she was thirteen, she could look at him without embarrassment. His
eyes never left her face, though he didn’t smile, just gazed at her
with that direct, calm look she’d thought she was so familiar with.
It was as if she’d never seen him before.

The music came to an end, but Garrett didn’t
release her. She didn’t want him to, didn’t want to let go of his
hands that clasped hers, firm and gentle. She took a step toward
him, wishing she could think of something to say that would let
this moment go on.

“Lainie! Teach us one of your dances!”

Telaine half-turned, still holding Garrett’s
hands, toward Blythe Bradford. “One of my what?”

“A dance from the city! I want my wedding to
be on the front edge of fashion!”

Telaine looked at Garrett. Did she dare…? No
one but she would know what it meant that they danced twice in a
row, but was that kind of declaration what she wanted?

“Will you dance with me again?” she said, all
in a rush, and Garrett smiled and nodded. She let go of his hands
and ran to where the musicians waited. “Will you play something not
very fast, in 3/4 time?”

“Sure,” the bass player said. “Happen it’ll
set a new trend.”

“Happen it might,” Telaine said, and ran back
to where Garrett stood. He hadn’t moved at all. “Put your hand on
my waist—right—and take my hand with your other one. It’s a steady
one-two-three beat,” she said in a louder voice. “Just follow me
and pretend you know what you’re doing. It’s not hard,” she added
with a wink, and Garrett laughed, a rich, warm sound that thrilled
through her.

The music started, and Telaine began counting
one
-two-three,
one
-two-three, and saw other couples
imitating them. “Now,” she said, and handed off the lead to
Garrett, who swept her across the clearing as if he’d been doing it
his whole life.

Telaine had chosen the dance because it was
the simplest one she knew. She hadn’t considered it was also the
most intimate. Garrett pulled her closer to him until she could
feel his breath on her face; it smelled pleasantly of what he’d
been eating, ham and cake and beer, which combined with the fresh
scent of his soap made her feel dizzy.

She couldn’t stop looking at his face, at the
sweep of his brow and his dark brown eyes and his strong chin.
He’s so handsome
, she thought, and wondered that she’d never
realized it before. He never took his eyes off her, though he
didn’t smile, only slid his arm around her waist in a way that made
her shiver with delight.

When the dance ended—far too soon; she should
have specified a
long
song—he once again didn’t release her.
Telaine stood in the circle of his arm, breathless, waiting for him
to speak. Then he let her go, and bowed to her, just a bob of the
head. “Miss Bricker,” he said, and walked away without another
word.

Telaine stared after him, dumbfounded. What
was
that?

“Lainie, dance with me,” a man said, and she
mumbled something he probably took for assent. She was grateful
that this was one of the men who didn’t feel talking was necessary
during a dance, because she couldn’t have maintained a conversation
after that.

Garrett had sung to her, he’d danced twice
with her—granted, he probably didn’t know that by high society’s
rules, dancing twice in a row with the same person was a
declaration of intent to court, but it was still one more dance
than anyone else had got from her—he’d been so close to her, and
then he’d just walked away? What was he thinking? Maybe she’d been
wrong about his feelings, or maybe he’d changed his mind, but in
any case that hollow, empty feeling was back, and she didn’t think
dancing, or beer, would do anything to fill it.

She danced, and drank, pretending to enjoy
herself, until the crowd dissipated, then she walked home, alone
even in the middle of the crowd. Halfway to Aunt Weaver’s house,
she remembered the tent of lights and cursed. She could leave it up
until tomorrow, but she knew she would only find excuses to delay
if she didn’t take it down immediately, and it
was
a
magnificent Device that didn’t deserve to be left out in the cold
all night.

Telaine turned around and went back to the
clearing, where men were taking down tables and hauling wooden
folding chairs to wherever they were stored. Wearily, she began
tugging at the strands. She’d set it up so a gentle pull would
bring down a string of lights, but there were a lot of strings, and
as she wound them back onto their spool, she thought of her narrow,
thin mattress with longing for the first time since she’d
arrived.

She wound some more, tugged harder to get one
strand to come down, wound again. The chair-carrying and
table-toting men had vanished, leaving her alone in the clearing
with only the light of the moon and the glow of the long strands to
guide her hands. It was late, and the night was cold, and she
wished she’d left it until the next day after all.

“Happen you could use a hand with that,”
Garrett said. She squeaked and dropped the spool, where it rolled
to fetch up against his feet. “Sorry. Thought you heard me
coming.”

“I was thinking of something else. You could
start pulling down those strands while I wind. Thanks.” Her voice
sounded as shaky as her hands, which had begun to tremble.

“No problem.” Strands of still-glowing lights
fell down in curlicues around her. Telaine wound and wound and
wished she hadn’t drunk so much, because maybe then she’d be able
to think straight. He’d left, and then he’d come back—did he mean
to confuse her? If so, it was working. Her head ached with
confusion and beer.

“That’s the last of it,” Garrett said,
handing her the loose end. She wrapped the string a few more times
around the spool, then tucked away the loose end, banishing a
vision of the whole thing unwinding and having to wind it all up
again, over and over.

Garrett held out his hand, and she gazed at
it dully. He wasn’t asking her to dance, was he? “I’ll carry it for
you,” he said after a long moment, and Telaine, coming to herself,
handed it to him.

“What happens to it now?” he said as they
walked back through the forest, side by side.

“Tomorrow I’ll remove all the motive forces
and store everything in Aunt Weaver’s spare room.” He was almost as
close as he’d been during their dances, close enough that she could
smell the clean scent of his soap again.

“Sounds complicated.”

“Just tedious.” Why had he come back? Was he
interested in her, or not?

“I’d help if I could.” The back of his hand
brushed hers. Then, tentatively, his finger stroked the back of her
hand just before his hand slid around hers, holding her again with
that firm but gentle touch.

All the nerves in her hand went off at once,
burning a path up her arm and lighting up her brain. It was the
oldest gambit of all, one a hundred men had tried on her, and she’d
always teasingly but firmly rebuffed them.
That was the
Princess,
she thought,
that’s not me
, and she squeezed
his hand lightly and felt him squeeze back.