Ruth Morren - Lilac Spring

“Yes, I noticed. I think she’ll be all right. Perhaps we can ask one of the young men to dance with her.”

He smiled in enthusiasm. “Yes, that would be grand. Now, how about you? Can I interest you in a dance?”

Cherish swallowed her frustration. Perhaps she should dance with him and get it over with. That way she could reserve a waltz for Silas later. She’d gone over the waltzes with her piano-playing friend Alice, who would play when Jacob and his fiddler friends took a break.

She nodded her acceptance, and the two of them entered the other parlor, where furniture and carpets had been cleared from the center of the room. Cherish allowed Warren to swing her around in the spirited dance amidst the other dancers. One dance led to another. About halfway through the second, she spotted Silas in the doorway. She lifted an arm in greeting and he nodded to her with a smile.

As the music ended, she and Warren moved off the dance floor. “You dance very well,” he told her as he led her toward the doorway. “Let me get you some refreshment before the musicians start up again. I’ll bring Annalise back with me.”

“Yes, do.” Maybe he could dance with his sister.

She turned to Silas with a smile. “Where have you been keeping yourself all evening?”

“Around,” he answered with a lazy grin. His thick hair was swept back from his forehead. Darker sideburns contrasted with the burnished gold of the rest of his hair. His gray eyes were alight with humor. “You are looking quite the fashion plate.”

“I trust that is a compliment.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Most certainly. Another Paris creation?” he asked with a nod at her gown.

“Yes, monsieur. I’ve been looking for you,” she said after a moment.

“What for? To foist some young lady on me to dance with?”

She laughed, thinking that was precisely what she intended. “Why aren’t you dancing, anyway?”

“I told you, I’m not much of a dancer.”

“You never will be if you don’t practice.”

At that moment Warren returned with Annalise.

“Silas, you remember Warren Townsend and his sister, Annalise.”

“Yes, of course. Pleased to see you both again,” he said, giving Warren his hand and smiling kindly at Annalise.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Warren replied.

They exchanged pleasantries as Cherish sipped the cold fruit punch. She heard the first notes of the piano and looked for a place to set down her cup.

Her arm, stretched toward a low table, stopped, paralyzed, when she heard Warren’s low, friendly tone behind her. “Would you mind escorting Annalise onto the dance floor? I’d like to dance with Cherish and don’t want to leave my sister unescorted. Although she’ll deny it, she’s a wonderful dancer.”

“Uh, of course,” Silas said after a second’s hesitation. “Miss Townsend? Would you care to dance this waltz with me?”

Cherish turned, seeing the look of fright on Annalise’s face. For a moment she felt relief, certain Annalise would turn Silas down.

But her brother pushed her gently toward Silas, urging, “Please say yes. Otherwise everyone will think Silas was turned down by the prettiest girl in the room.”

Annalise’s eyes widened in concern. Silas stood by, saying nothing. The girl hesitated between the two men.

Finally Silas held out his arm, smiling encouragement. “They’ll understand once they see me waltz.”

Annalise returned his smile and put her hand on his arm.

Everything faded out for Cherish—the sounds of the waltz, the babble of voices around her—as she watched Silas, arm in arm with Annalise, walk toward the dance floor. The distance between him and Cherish increased with each step, making it a reality she could do nothing to alter.

As if coming back to the present, she heard Warren’s voice. “So, may I have the honor of this dance?”

She licked her lips, tempted to give him the set-down of his life. How dare he? He and his stupid little sister with her shy, childish ways! Cherish swallowed the words that roiled through her mind, knowing how unfair they were, but unable to stop from feeling hurt and humiliated even as she nodded her assent.

She followed the dance steps like an automaton while her heart ached with the feeling of betrayal. The warm smile she thought reserved for her, the encouraging words she’d always received from Silas, the gentle teasing were not for her alone. They were for any young lady that came along.

Obviously, he’d felt sympathy for Annalise. Was that all Silas felt for Cherish, as well?

He’d always been her big brother, pal, confidant…hero. But now she wanted something more from Silas.

As the strains of the waltz played on, Cherish refused to believe her years of waiting for Silas had been in vain. There was no other man for her. Didn’t Silas see that?

Silas held Annalise gingerly. Heaven knew, he wasn’t used to dancing the waltz, and his partner looked as if she was ready to expire at any moment. He glanced helplessly across the room, but relief was not forthcoming.

Cherish was in Townsend’s arms, smiling up at something he was saying as they moved in time to the music. They both looked as if they belonged in a ballroom in Boston rather than in a front parlor in Haven’s End.

He turned back to Miss Townsend as the two moved awkwardly among the circling dancers. “Smile, or everyone’ll think I’m stepping on your feet.”

The look of fright in the girl’s large green eyes gave way to a slight relaxing of her facial features.

“That’s better. Even if you can’t manage a smile, at least it doesn’t look as if you’re being tortured.”

A tiny, tentative smile appeared on her pink lips.

“Getting better and better. I admit I’m not much of a dancer, but I don’t want to pass myself off as a worse clodhopper than I already know myself to be. I was convinced I couldn’t waltz, but I have it on the best authority that it’s as easy as counting one, two, three. Of course, having left school young, I don’t know as I’m too capable in that area either.”

Her smile grew, and he took a deep breath of relief. He couldn’t abide the thought that the girl was here by force, only to please her brother. “Thatta girl.”

Silas kept up a flow of conversation as they danced. It occurred to him he was chattering. It reminded him of the day Cherish had been waltzing with him in the meadow. He wondered now whether she had been as nervous as he felt right now.

No—he dismissed the notion as soon as it was formed. Cherish was the most poised girl he knew. He glanced at her again across the dancers, remembering her as a little lady even at the age of five when she’d come to make his acquaintance on his first day at the boat shop.

“—so many years.”

He glanced back at Miss Townsend. “Excuse me?”

“I said you’ve been in Haven’s End so many years.”

“That’s right. I always knew I wanted to build boats, so I was glad to find a place to apprentice.”

His gaze roved over Cherish and Townsend once again.

She certainly seemed to be at ease, speaking with Warren as they glided across the dance floor, and it seemed to Silas that she was as graceful in a meadow as in a ballroom.

He, himself, was finding it hard to keep up a flow of conversation and at the same time mind the placement of his feet. Deciding to concentrate on his steps, he stopped talking.

When the song ended and another started up, he wished for a moment that it was Cherish in his arms on the dance floor. But after that brief tuneless waltz in the meadow, he had resolved to avoid dancing with her. Holding her in his arms, however innocently, put too many crazy thoughts into his head.