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Chapter 21

Jude took a deep breath as he entered the Charingworth village hall, glancing quickly at the woman alongside him. He had to admit, Sally Potter was looking beautiful this evening in her bright green gown. The green of the gown contrasted well with her bright hair and accentuated the colour of her eyes.

“Well, here we are,” declared Sally, her eyes sparkling. “What do you think?”

Jude gazed around. The hall had been festooned with Christmas greenery, which was hanging from every available place. It was awash with ivy, holly, and mistletoe. In addition, there were white candles everywhere, their flames flickering around the hall. A long trestle table had been set up on one side, which was almost buckling beneath the weight of the plates of food that had been set down upon it beneath a crisp white tablecloth.

On the stage, there were musicians, all fiddling and tuning their instruments, getting ready to play for hours. The hall was already filling up with people, all dressed in their Sunday best, fresh faced and excited.

He spotted Reverend Basingstoke chatting to some middle-aged women in prim attire. He grinned. The women were probably regular churchgoers who had agreed to supervise the proceedings along with the vicar, so they didn’t get out of hand.

“It is very impressive,” he said, turning back to Sally. “Charingworth knows how to put on a dance.”

Sally laughed, taking his arm. “Aye, it is always a lively affair. And this dance is livelier than most, since it is so close to Christmas.” She smiled up at him. “Folks like to let their hair down a bit at this time of year. They work so hard and feel like having a celebration.”

Jude nodded. He watched a group of young men, all dressed to the nines in their best jackets and hair slicked back, circling a group of giggling young women. He recognised Enid and Bessie, the girls in the pantomime, among them. The chatter was getting loud.

At that moment, the musicians introduced themselves before heading straight into their first song of the evening. It was a lively jig. The young men grabbed the young women, leading them into the centre of the hall, twirling them around.

Jude grinned. The dance had officially begun.

Sally turned to him, gazing up at him, batting her eyelashes. “Shall we? I am so eager to dance!”

Jude nodded, leading her into the middle of the room. He still wasn’t entirely sure he should have come to this dance with Sally, considering Lenny’s warning about her, but it had seemed like it would be a distraction from thinking about Evelina. And he was here now, so he may as well make the best of it.

His heart lurched with habitual sorrow as he thought about Evelina and how upset she had been the other night. Their stolen kiss had only stressed the sadness of their parting. She was going to marry Mr. Beaumont, the rude gentleman who had accompanied her to the pantomime rehearsal, and there was not a single thing he could do about it.

As he twirled Sally around, he remembered Evelina’s devastation. She clearly didn’t want to marry the man. And she had told him she wished with all her heart that she was free to choose him. He felt exactly the same way. His heart clenched. But it was all pointless and impossible. They couldn’t have each other. And their clandestine meetings really had to stop before both of them got into serious trouble.

He knew Evelina would do her duty and marry the man, even though she didn’t want to. She had little choice in the matter. And seeing each other still, snatching kisses and whatever else they could, was only prolonging the agony. She was as aware of that fact as he was.

“Jude.” Sally’s accusing voice penetrated his consciousness. “You look like you are miles away!”

“Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth.

He tried to focus upon Sally once again, pushing aside the thought of Evelina. He couldn’t mope and pine for her the whole of the evening—it would defeat the purpose of why he had even attempted to come here.

He twirled Sally around dramatically. She laughed joyfully. He took a deep breath. Life must go on. Even when his heart was so sore, it felt like it might crack right down the middle.

***

Jude tried to catch his breath as he walked off the dance floor, shaking his head at Sally’s entreaties to keep dancing. They had been dancing for the entire night and he was tired. Sally pouted at him before joining him at the refreshment table.

“I need a drink,” he shouted, trying to make his voice heard above the music. “And maybe a bite to eat, as well.” He gazed at the woman. “But you can dance with other people if you like while I have a break.”

Sally shook her head as she took two glasses, pouring punch from a large bowl into them, before handing him one.

“I don’t want to dance with anyone else,” she pouted, gazing at him steadily. “You are the only partner I want this evening, Jude.”

Jude felt uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to say to that. To hide his confusion, he took a long sip of the punch, then almost spat it out. It wasn’t what he was expecting at all. It was fruity and refreshing, but it was also strongly laced with liquor.

He swallowed the mouthful, turning back to Sally. “Someone has been tampering with the punch,” he warned. “The vicar is going to have a conniption if he finds out.”

Sally laughed, shrugging her shoulders, before taking a long sip of her drink. “It always happens,” she said, her eyes bright with mirth. “One of the village lads always makes sure that it is a punch with a punch, as they say.”

Jude gave a small laugh, taking another sip of his drink. He was feeling far more relaxed. They picked at a plate of sandwiches and cakes, finishing the drinks. Sally whisked his glass away, pouring them both another. Jude frowned, knowing he should be careful, but the effect of the liquor was working and taking away the stress of the evening just a little.

By the time they finished their second drinks, Sally sidled up to him, taking his arm. He was expecting her to lead him to the dance floor again, but they exited the hall by a side entrance. The cool of the night hit him in the face. He hadn’t realised how flushed and hot he was from all that dancing.


Tags: Henrietta Harding Historical