Authors: Kimberly Truesdale
“
Where are Freddy and Edward?” Sophy asked.
“
They were eager for more time with Captain Croft...”
“
Papa! You must not let them continue to overwhelm the poor man.”
“
I know. I know. But the captain did declare that his mother could use their help in some last minute preparations.” Papa smiled at her. “And if the man must answer some further questions, I am sure he will think it worth his while as payment for their services.”
Sophy sighed. “Really, I think Captain Croft is a saint to deal with them so spectacularly.”
With a twinkle in his eye, Papa patted her hand and they set off down the road toward the Rectory.
* * *
Dinner was a feast of many delicacies which Mrs. Croft put forth in front of a delighted and appreciative audience. As each course appeared, the guests settled further into the company, forgetting their formal manners and becoming quite at home with each other, talking and laughing as if they had known one another all their lives.
Connie was proud of the evident success of his mother's party. At first he had been skeptical of such a formal event, thinking that the proprieties they must observe would stifle conversation and make for a rather dull evening. But he should have remembered that Milverton people could take any event and make it merry. Though they were all dressed in their finest formal wear, the gathering felt like a warm Sunday lunch. Connie looked around at all the guests. His mother had assembled quite a mixture. There were his father and mother, of course. And the two Wentworth boys, looking quite uncomfortable in their formal wear.
Then his mother had invited Mrs. Hancock and her two daughters. They were beautiful girls and he suspected that their mother meant to throw them in his way, hoping one would catch his fancy. But neither of them did. Oh, they were nice girls. He looked across the table from one to the other now. Vanessa, the younger, was a pretty thing with blond curls, while her sister Margaret had her brown hair piled on her head in a fashionable way. Both girls wore flattering white dresses, which only served to highlight their innocence. For all their beauty, the Hancock girls were desperately shy. His mother had placed Connie next to Margaret at the table. All his efforts at conversation had so far gone unrewarded. The girl had only blushed and answered him in single words.
Connie wished his mother had seated him next to Miss Wentworth. She looked magnificent tonight. Her blue dress perfectly complemented her complexion, and she had done her hair in a way that seemed somehow both careful and careless. It exactly suited her. And it made his heart race. His heart had done so each time he had thought about her today, and that had been a lot.
How could he not think about her after what had passed yesterday afternoon at the Old Mill pond? He had gone there for a walk, an escape from the endless visitors at the Rectory. His only thought had been a few moments of quiet to absorb the beauty around him. But then Miss Wentworth had surprised him. In more ways than by sneaking up on him, Connie thought.
Miss Wentworth had been even more interesting than he'd anticipated. They had talked and laughed together, matching each other perfectly in wit and stone-skipping skill. Connie smiled. The woman certainly had a talent for it and she had not been demure about showing it.
But then... then their conversation had turned serious. And she had placed her hand on his arm. He knew it had been a gesture of kindness. Connie could tell from the way she jerked slightly when she realized that it held more significance for him than mere kindness. He had been surprised at himself. She was a fine woman, he would have admitted that from the first. But to realize suddenly that he felt more for her had been a shock. There had been an exquisite moment when he had expected to kiss her, had wanted to kiss her. The air had almost crackled with the electricity around them. For one moment he had felt it all, had held their future in his hands. He had seen it stretched out in front of him.
Something had stopped him, though. In among the images of an ideal future with Miss Wentworth had been one glimpse of the truth: in a few days' time he would leave. He would sail away from Milverton with no idea of when or if he would ever come back. It had been a painful thought, and it had made him break their gaze. Hard as it had been, Connie knew that he had to be the one to pull away. It had pained him to see her confusion. Miss Wentworth did not deserve to be disappointed.
He gazed at her across the table. She was seated next to that young curate, Mr. Hollingson. The Reverend had only good things to say of the young man and yet, Connie could not help but be jealous of his proximity to Miss Wentworth and, as Connie observed further, his apparent intimacy with the lady. They were leaning close to each other, engaged in a private conversation. Whatever the young man had said brought a smile to her face. Connie tried to stop the wave of possessiveness and jealousy that overtook him at the sight. He had made his decision yesterday. He was not going to kiss her. Now he must abide by it. He must allow Miss Wentworth her happiness, even if it did not include him.
Connie had almost stilled his jealousy when he caught Miss Wentworth's name spoken in hushed tones on the lips of the lady next to him. His mother and the widow Hancock had their heads together and were smiling thoughtfully in the direction Connie himself had been looking: at Miss Wentworth and Mr. Hollingson.
“
... Wentworth, she could do much worse than that young man,” Mrs. Hancock was saying to Mrs. Croft. “He has great prospects, you know. And he's made himself quite beloved in that little hamlet.”
Mrs. Croft nodded along. “Indeed, the Reverend is grooming him to take over the rectory here one day. If he ever decides to retire.”
“
I am sure he will not do so for a few years, at least, Mrs. Croft. We do love our rector so.”
“
And he loves you all. Besides, I could never bear to have him on my hands all the time. He must have some employment!” The two women laughed together.
“
The doctor has said nothing about a proposal, so we may be a bit premature in our matchmaking,” Mrs. Hancock cautioned.
“
But they do seem partial to each other,” Mrs. Croft looked again in the direction of the young couple. Connie looked too and his jealousy rose again.
“
Oh, I do hope there will soon be a wedding in Milverton!”
Connie felt suddenly bereft. It seemed a settled thing that Sophy would marry the curate. The man had good prospects and a stable home. Even the Crofts – his own parents – loved Mr. Hollingson as another son. And Miss Wentworth. He could not deny the reaction he himself had witnessed in her private conversation with the man. Connie also could not deny his own reaction. Jealousy. It was going to be a long evening.
“
A dance!” Mrs. Hancock exclaimed. “What a brilliant idea, Margaret.” Sophy had to pinch her lips together to keep from laughing aloud. If Margaret Hancock had proposed the idea of an impromptu dance, Sophy would eat her bonnet. But from the blush of pleasure that arose on the girl's face, Sophy saw that she would not protest too loudly at her mother's suggestion.
Indeed, the entire company entered enthusiastically into the idea. They had finished dinner almost an hour ago and had since been sitting in the parlor talking together. Sophy had felt the party winding down like a clock. But Mrs. Hancock's suggestion had energized them all.
“
An excellent idea, Mrs. Hancock!” Mrs. Croft rose excitedly from her seat. The two ladies began to direct the young men in the removal of furniture and carpets to create an adequate space for dancing.
“
But mother,” Captain Croft asked as he carried a chair to the side of the room, “who shall provide our music?”
Mrs. Hancock spoke from her supervisory position by the door, “But of course, I shall, Captain Croft. I am too old for dancing.”
“
Nonsense!” The captain protested. “You shall be my first partner!”
“
No, no, sir,” the widow answered, laughing. “I shall play the piano. You must dance with one of the younger ladies. One of them shall make you a much better match than I.”
Sophy had to bite her lips again to keep from laughing aloud. Mrs. Hancock was not being very subtle with her hints. Clearly, she had come to dinner this evening prepared to propose a dance. And to put her daughters forward as much as possible. Sophy could not fault her for taking advantage of a party replete with no less than two eligible gentlemen who might be willing to carry off one or both of her daughters. She was not sure how the men would react to the widow's plan.
As she moved to help Edward roll up the carpet, Sophy looked at the two gentlemen in question. She could not imagine either one of them with the shy Hancock sisters. How would Vanessa or Margaret ever survive on board a ship with Captain Croft? Neither seemed the sort of woman to enjoy a calm cruise, much less a year or more at sea in all conditions. Nor yet did either girl seem like the sort to make a rector's wife. Sophy wondered how much they could know about the practical side of caring for people.
By the time the carpet was rolled up and against the wall, Mrs. Hancock was playing runs of notes up and down the piano, whether to warm up her fingers or to impress her audience, Sophy could not tell. After a pause, the lady started into a sprightly dance tune.
The men quickly chose partners. Captain Croft could hardly help but choose one of her daughters after Mrs. Hancock had thrown them in his way. He paired off with the younger daughter, Vanessa, and took up his position to wait for the other couples. Edward asked the older Miss Hancock and seemed pleased to escort the comely young lady to the floor. It struck Sophy quite forcefully that Edward was almost a man. He would soon be thinking seriously of courting. Freddy, however, could not be serious if his life depended on it. He strode across the floor to Mrs. Croft and bowed elaborately. With some small protest about her age – a protest soundly refuted by the entire company – Mrs. Croft and Freddy proceeded to the floor.
Sophy expected Mr. Hollingson to ask her at any moment. And yet bar after bar of music passed and he did not move from his position along the wall. When it was clear that Sophy and Mr. Hollingson would not be joining them, the couples finally began dancing.
Sophy noticed the older people were looking anxiously around at Mr. Hollingson, clearly wondering what was happening. Sophy wondered the same thing. A blush rose to her cheeks as she felt everyone's eyes upon her. Why was Mr. Hollingson hanging back at the wall like that? Everyone expected that he would dance with her. It was embarrassing to be left all alone in such a small party. Sophy, usually so resourceful, did not know what she could do. And so she waited, her blush growing ever deeper as the couples twirled around in front of her.
After long, agonizing minutes, the music finally stopped. The couples separated, laughing with the exhilaration of movement. And yet, Sophy could feel their sideways looks at her.
Reverend Croft called out to Mr. Hollingson, “Joshua, why did you not ask Sophy to dance?”
Sophy looked expectantly at the curate, waiting for an answer. He looked entirely uncomfortable at being called out like this in front of everyone.
“
Pardon me, sir, but I do not dance.”
Didn't dance? Sophy thought. But why had he not said something before they had started dancing? Why had he not said something to her while the rest were dancing? Sophy did not understand what Mr. Hollingson was thinking.
Reverend Croft guffawed. “Nonsense, my boy! Of course you dance!” The rest of the company laughed, too. Mr. Hollingson colored deeply and seemed to shrink into the wall.
“
No, sir,” the curate replied. “I do not dance.”
Here was a puzzle the Reverend must now solve. “Do you mean you will not dance on principle?”
“
No, sir.” All eyes were on Mr. Hollingson.
“
Well, what then? What could keep you from enjoying a dance with this fine young woman?”
Mr. Hollingson looked like he wanted to run out the door. Sophy was sympathetic to his plight, but she also wanted answers as to why the man who had said he loved her would not dance with her. She waited.
“
Well... well,” Mr. Hollingson stuttered. “I... I do not dance...because... because I cannot.” The last came out in a whisper. Sophy hardly caught his words. Had he said that he could not dance? She was ready to laugh with relief.
“
Cannot dance?” Mrs. Croft said in disbelief. “Well, that explains it all!” The whole company laughed.
Reverend Croft stepped toward the young man and clapped him on the back, laughing all the time. “My boy! That is no problem at all. Why, I am sure we may teach you tonight. What do you say, Miss Wentworth? Would you be willing to help this poor young man?”
Sophy smiled at them. She felt light now that she knew Mr. Hollingson had not rejected her. No, it was only that he did not know how to dance. She looked at him now. He smiled at her shyly. “Yes, I would be happy to help teach Mr. Hollingson how to dance.”
“
Then it is settled!” The Reverend declared. “Mrs. Hancock, some music please.”