“Who is he, Kinley?”
I twisted my lips to the side and wrinkled my nose at him. “What makes you think it’s a he?”
“So it’s not?” He raised one doubting eyebrow.
I gave a dramatic sigh. “Very well. I admit it’s a man. Satisfied?”
Gavin said, “Yes” at the same time that Ella said, “No.” She swatted Gavin’s arm before scooting over to sit by me. “Come now, you must tell me everything. Are you only friends, or is he paying you special attention?”
My neck grew hot, and I fussed with my crazed curls, searching for the words to explain. “We are friends, and I think he wants to pay me special attention,” I admitted, though my neck felt hot when I said it out loud. Especially with the memory of his kissing me all too prominent in my mind.
Gavin sat back and whistled. “What does Fynn think of him?”
“I don’t want Fynn to scare him off.”
Gavin laughed. “Fair enough. He must be gentry though, to have the skill and time to do this sort of work.” He tapped the cover of the book.
“Actually, his father is a lord.”
If possible, Gavin looked even more curious than before. “What is his name?”
“Rylan. Rylander Baylor. Remember I used to work for the Baylors?” I gave him a meaningful look. “He’s the reason I can read.” Surely Gavin remember the boy who had given us both a chance to learn.
“Of course.” He sat back, shaking his head with a little smile. “And how did you chance to meet up with Rylander Baylor?”
I grinned. “Mr. Tanner accused him of stealing his chickens.”
Gavin let out a chuckle. “So, after Mr. Tanner accused this Baylor fellow of pilfering poultry, how did the two of you become friends?”
I gave a shrug, trying to portray a casualness I didn’t feel. “He started helping me with the harvest, and we got to talking. We sort of picked up our friendship where we left it five years ago.”
“He taught you to read?” Ella asked.
“Yes.” I couldn’t help the smile that came. “He was curious and outgoing and more than willing to share his learning with me. At least the little that he could in the few moments a day that I saw him.” I drifted off into memories of that time until Ella’s chuckle pulled me back to the present.
“You’re besotted,” she said with a wicked grin.
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but the truth came out instead. “I am . . . befuddled,” I admitted with a sigh.
Ella laughed and handed the book back to me. “Here. You should keep this.”
“But—”
“This book means a lot to you, probably even more than I realize. I want you to have it.”
I accepted it, not realizing until that moment how much I really wanted to own this book, to have it be mine, to have this piece of Rylan. “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome,” she said with a self-satisfied grin.
I bit my lip as I looked from Ella to Gavin. “Might I ask one more favor?”
“Anything,” Gavin answered.
“Please don’t tell anyone about Rylan. It’s not that I’m embarrassed by it, it’s just that—”
Gavin waved me off. “Kinley. You don’t need to explain it to me.”
Ella nodded. “We know how to keep these kinds of secrets.”
I shook my head at the irony of finding myself in this situation. “Thank you.”
✼ ✼ ✼
The warm glow of torches beckoned me forward as we approached the village square. Stepping into the light, we were greeted by the chatter of people and the sounds of instruments being tuned and tested. My parents went in search of some friends and a comfortable seat along the edge of the square. Suzannah and I joined all the women gathered at one end of the square, waving Fynn off as he joined the men gathered at the other end.
I found Janie standing with her good friend Margaret. We greeted one another with cheek kisses, then I looked around, trying to see if Janie had brought her daughter for the evening. Janie was ten years my senior. She and Gavin had been born less than a year and a half apart. After that, my parents thought they might not have any more children. It took five years for Fynn to come along, and then another four before I joined the family. Janie and I loved each other but had never been terribly close. “Is Agnes here?”
“Yes.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. “She’s worn me down enough that I let her come. She’s with Mama and Papa now.”
I strained up onto my toes and was able to spot them. Agnes looked ready to burst with excitement, reminding me so much of myself when I was her age. “She wore you down a lot quicker than I wore Mama down. I was eleven, and Agnes is what? Only seven?”
“Yes, but she’s here for only a few songs, and then we’ll be heading home. Simon is at home with Owen, so we can’t stay long. So.” She clapped her hands together once and leaned in conspiratorially. “Who are you girls wishing to dance with this evening?”
Suzannah waved off the question. “I don’t care who, so long as I get asked often.”
Janie bumped my shoulder with hers. “I’m sure you’ll be waiting for Zander to ask you.”
My cheeks heated. My thoughts had been occupied less and less with Zander since Rylan had made his appearance. “I’m happy to dance with anyone who asks,” I answered. “Except for Mr. Gable,” I amended, looking over at the men. Toren Gable didn’t often attend these dances, but the last time, he had captured me for the first dance. As much as I loved the traditional first moments of our town dances, we always risked being whisked away by someone we may not have chosen to dance with otherwise.
The instruments gave several long notes to warn everyone that the evening was about to start. All of us girls turned to face the large group of men, and Suzannah took the chance to lean close to my ear. “You seem less enthusiastic about Brawn than usual.”
I chewed the side of my finger and turned to meet her eyes. I was at a loss for how to respond. She was right, but admitting that I now held onto hopes that something might develop between Rylan and me would have been too humiliating.
I wouldn’t have been able to respond even if I had come up with the words, because at that moment, the band started their lilting tune. We skipped and twirled and ran toward the men, while they did the same, meeting in the middle like two waves crashing into each other. I wove my way through the throng, joining hands with a group, caught in a spin by a young man, linking elbows with a friend, and eventually being caught around the waist by my friend, Thaddeus, who danced me around for the remainder of the song. As we turned and dipped through the crowd, I caught glimpses of Fynn, Suzannah and dozens of other familiar faces.
We spun to a stop as the tune rested on its final note, my skirts taking a bit longer to halt their dancing movement. Thad gave me a little bow and a smile of thanks, which I returned in kind.
I recognized the beginning notes of the next song. It was one of my favorite dances because it was the very first I had ever participated in. It was the first dance that anyone participated in as a child. The steps were easy and smooth, repeating often. It was meant to include everyone, to give the younger participants a chance to gain some confidence. Many people used this song to take a break or to sit out and socialize, but not me. I always participated.
Especially tonight. I ran over to where Agnes sat between my parents, and I held out my hand to her. “Come, Agnes. This is the very best dance to be a part of.”
She happily latched on to my fingers and skipped to the middle of the square with me. We joined in the circle of women and girls, facing out, and were soon surrounded by a ring of young men who faced inward. I took my skirt in both hands, holding it out to the sides and encouraging Agnes to do the same. At a cue from the instruments, the men bowed in greeting and the women answered with a curtsy. Then we stepped, right, right, left, left, turned and swished our skirts.
The boys then step-cross-stepped to the right and step-cross-stepped to the left.
And on it went, a simple set of moves by the women answered by a simple set of moves by the men. And while we would step forward, coming close to the gentlemen on occasion, there was no contact, and really no distinct pairing off. I still remembered being thrilled and incredibly relieved when I had first joined in at eleven years old. It had been a chance to test my skills in dancing and realize that it was nothing to be afraid of.
Agnes missed a step on occasion, as did other young girls and boys, but it was easy for them to pick it up again. By the end of the song, they were all grinning so broadly that one could safely assume it had been the best moment of their week. I returned Agnes to Janie’s side as she chattered in excitement, bouncing on her toes. She reminded me so much of myself and Suzannah at that age.
I turned around and started searching the crowd for my dearest friend, fairly certain that she had been in the circle with me. If so, she must still be close.
A warm hand rested on my arm, and I jumped, spinning to come eye level with Zander’s broad chest.
“My apologies,” Zander said with a smile. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
I looked down, tucking my hair behind my ears.
“Might you be able to spare a dance for a lowly blacksmith’s apprentice?” he asked. He didn’t seem nervous this evening, and somehow that made me nervous. Was he flirting?
“Of course.”
He offered his hand, and I took it, anticipating the zing that usually accompanied our hands meeting. But it wasn’t there. I pondered on the absence of sparks as he twirled me around, then maneuvered us into a circle of other dancers, where we circled left then right before spinning off again with our own partners. I enjoyed the movement and exertion as always, and I was happy to dance with Zander, but somehow it didn’t incite the stomach-fluttering excitement that it had before.
When the song concluded, I thanked him and started to turn away.
“Shall we get a drink?” he asked.
Perhaps he was flirting. He wasn’t usually prone to lingering with me. I nodded in agreement, and we made our way toward the fountain. I spotted Suzannah and was about to call out to her when I realized that Fynn stood with her. They faced each other, engaged in conversation, both of them smiling.
I studied them, noting the way they leaned toward each other, the way Fynn’s eyes squinted as he laughed.
I held back, not wishing to interrupt whatever moment they were having. Unfortunately, Zander hadn’t developed the ability to read my mind. He crossed straight to them. “Good evening, Fynn. Suzannah.”
Suzannah practically jumped in surprise. “Oh, Brawn, hello,” she said, and I felt my eyes widen in alarm. Had she truly just—
“Did you call him Brawn?” Fynn asked, his brow furrowed.
She spun to look at Fynn and I saw the moment she realized that she had, indeed, called Zander by the ridiculous name we had branded him with. “What?” Suzannah asked in panic. “No, of course not.”
“But—” Fynn started to argue, but I cut him off.
“Janie wanted to speak with us,” I blurted out, grabbing onto Suzannah and pulling her to my side. “You two don’t mind if we abandon you, do you?” I gave a lighthearted laugh, or at least what I intended to sound lighthearted. It didn’t. “We’ll return soon.” I retreated, pulling Suzannah with me into the throng.
It was a shame that I had to take her away from Fynn, but there really was no other option after such a blunder. Instead of bothering to hunt Janie down, I pulled Suzannah out of the square and down a lane until we were almost alone. I stopped and turned to Suzannah, who had her hand slapped over her mouth. I could only assume that she was mortified.
Then a laugh escaped from behind her hand before abruptly cutting off. I narrowed my eyes at her and she dissolved into spewing laughter. I was so stunned that for a moment I was silent before realizing just how ridiculous the situation was. I was overtaken by my own fit of laughter, managing only to say, “You actually called him Brawn!” before losing the ability to talk once more.
“Did you see his face?” she gasped. “I can’t believe I called him that.” She fanned at her face. “He looked at you like you were insane when you did that horrid fake laugh. He had no idea what to make of it.” She sighed, trying to rein in her mirth. “However are you going to explain to him?”
“Me? How are you going to explain to my brother that you call the blacksmith’s apprentice Brawn?”
Her laughter cut off, and instead she gave a forced chuckle. “What do you mean, how will I explain to your brother?” She tugged on her dress sleeve, fidgeting and trying to hide a blush. “Surely he doesn’t need an explanation from me.” She looked up, shrugging. “I’m only . . . ”
I gave her a pitying look. “You’re only half in love with him is all.”
“That’s not . . . ” She couldn’t even finish her denial, and despite the dim light, I could see her ears turning red.
I put an arm around her. “If it makes you feel any better, I believe he’s coming around.”
She gave a sharp shake of her head. “That’s what I keep thinking, but then he does something that makes it perfectly clear that he thinks of me as another sister.” She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “How could I be stupid enough to fall for him?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s perfectly understandable.” I put on my best long-suffering face. “Though it pains me to say it, Fynn is a rather decent sort of person.”
She laughed. “What a glowing recommendation.”
I gave her my most encouraging smile but then sobered. “What are we going to do about Brawn?”
She snorted. “Nothing. We shall go back and act as if nothing happened. Ignore the situation, I say.”
It was as good a plan as any. “And we must stop using that name.”
We rejoined the crowd, spending a few minutes speaking with Janie and Margaret so that the reason for our absence wouldn’t be a complete lie.
As we skirted around the edge of the square, looking to rejoin Zander and Fynn, someone pinched my side. I turned, thinking perhaps Zander had become very bold in his flirting.
I was relieved and more than a little surprised to see Gavin with a cocky grin and Ella practically bouncing at his side.
“You’re here!” I said as I threw my arms around my brother, then hugged Ella as well. “I’m so glad you came.”
Gavin nodded to Suzannah. “Miss Suzannah. Always a pleasure.”
“Sir Gavin,” she said, giving an elaborate curtsy. Suzannah found an inordinate amount of pleasure in poking fun at Gavin’s change of fortune. “Princess,” she said to Ella with a more sedate and also more serious curtsy.
“What brings you back to this humble corner of the kingdom?” I asked.
“We realized it had been quite some time since we’d been to one of these,” Gavin replied. “And,” he added in a mock whisper, “they are vastly superior to royal balls.”
Ella shook her head, giving a good-natured roll of her eyes, but didn’t bother arguing the point—probably because she agreed with him.
I gave a solemn nod. “I’m sure all the wonderful food and glittering ball gowns are a real trial.”
He looked at me askance. “Please don’t tell me this is a fantasy of yours.”
I gave a little shrug. “They can’t be that bad. I’ve always been curious what a fancy ball would be like.”
“Maybe I’ll have to take you sometime,” Ella said.
I guffawed, impressed that she could make such a suggestion with a straight face. “Wouldn’t that be a sight to see?”
A new song started up, and I nudged Gavin and Ella toward the crowd. “Let’s see if the two of you can remember the steps.”
Gavin grinned. “That shouldn’t be a problem.” He took one of Ella’s hands in his own, then wrapped his other arm around Ella’s waist, lifting her off the ground and spinning her onto the dance floor. Ella’s laughter rang out as they were absorbed into the sea of people.
Fynn joined us, standing tall to look over the heads of the other dancers. “Is that Gavin I see?”
“Yes. He and Ella have joined in the revelry.”
“That must be why all the gossips are hard at work.” He looked behind us, searching for something. “I wonder where Rowen is.”
“Rowen!” I couldn’t help the excitement in my voice as I, too, started searching the edge of the square for Ella’s guard. I had always liked Rowen. He was a good fifteen, maybe even twenty years older than I. More of a father figure than anything. Pestering him had been one of my favorite pastimes ever since meeting him when Ella and Gavin were first married. I’d been twelve, and he had listened to my chatter while standing at attention and would give me a wink every once in a while.
I spotted him leaning against the corner of a building, his stance relaxed, but his eyes alert.
“Pardon me for a moment.” I gave Fynn a distracted pat on his arm and wove my way through the crowd, being sure to stay out of Rowen’s direct line of sight. It was a game I’d played often when visiting Gavin. My objective was to get close enough to touch his shoulder without him seeing me.
I’d never been successful and had given it up for the most part over the last couple of years, but tonight I was determined to succeed at least once.
Perhaps it was the fun I’d been having with Rylan. Perhaps it was the idea that Rylan would think it a great game to sneak up on a royal guard. Either way, I found myself creeping down one lane so that I could circle around to where he stood watching the proceedings.
Despite the cacophony of sounds from the dance, I did my best to even my breathing and soften my footfalls. This was my one chance to come out the victor.
I was nearly to his back, raising my hand to tap his shoulder . . .
“I would think by now you would know that you can’t sneak up on me.”
I groaned in defeat and sidled up beside him. “It was worth trying.” I folded my arms and glared at the ground for a moment. “How do you do that anyway?”
He cut his eyes over to me and gave one of his signature winks. “Secrets of the trade.”
I rolled my eyes and crossed in front of him. He was leaning against the wall, right at the corner of the building. I imitated his stance, leaning against the adjacent wall so that just the corner separated us.
Keeping Kinley Page 12