Page 64 of Waiting for a Scot Like You
Duncan plastered a smile on his face—or an approximation of one, since all he felt at the moment was blazing frustration. Lou looked almost as irritated as he felt, though he doubted she churned with the same thwarted sexual energy as he did.
He needed something to talk about besides the fact that he burned to take Beatrice to bed, which wasn’t very polite conversation, especially not at a stranger’s wedding breakfast.
“Must be looking forward to tonight, though,” he offered.
Lou frowned, puzzled. “What’s tonight?”
“The wedding celebration,” he answered simply, not comprehending her confusion.
The girl spread her arms open. “Thisisthe weddingcelebration. After this, we just go home and that’s the end of it.”
“But... the dancing,” he said, his mind churning as he struggled to make sense of the utter nonsense Lou was saying. “There’s always dancing at a wedding.”
“Forgive me, my dear,” Beatrice said gently to him. “That isn’t always the case. Not in London.”
He stared at both women, appalled. “We’re not in London. This is the country, andeverycountry wedding must have dancing. That’s how we do it where I’m from. A wedding is always followed by a merry feast and much dancing. How can anything be celebrated without it?” It was such a simple, understood truth that to go against it was a horrible rending of custom.
“There’s no dancing tonight,” Lou whispered, shaking her head, “because dancing isn’t legal in Beaumont.”
Both Duncan and Beatrice stared at the girl. Finally, Beatrice breathed, “That’s ludicrous.”
Lou looked around to make certain that they weren’t being observed, then said in a tight whisper, “For the past five years, it’s been forbidden to dance. Not at weddings or festivals or anything. Ever since our Squire Redmire’s son went to an assembly, drank too much, and drowned in the river on his way home. Of course, drinking isn’t outlawed, but dancing is.” She rolled her eyes.
“My God,” Duncan said on a low exhale, attempting to comprehend the fact that one could get arrested for merelydancing. “A popular law, is it?”
The girl snorted. “Hardly. We even used to have a harvest dance this time of year, but that’s no more since the law was enacted. Nearly everyone hates it—and I hate it the most.” Shyly, she said, “I’m... I’m a dancer.”
Beatrice nodded with approval. “I could tell by the way you moved through the company. Light on your feet and graceful, just like a dancer.”
Lou smiled and blushed, her lashes dropping bashfully. “But the only dancing I do now is across roofbeams—my da’s a builder and needed help, and since I’ve no brothers to apprentice, I have to help him.”
“And you unable to even dance at a public assembly without fear of being thrown into gaol.” Beatrice clicked her tongue in sympathy.
“Therehasto be dancing after a wedding,” Duncan insisted. He felt pity for the girl, and the thought of eschewing one of the most important village celebrations made his stomach knot and the muscles of his back tighten. “Theremustbe.”
Rules had their purpose—yet he saw now that they weren’t always there in a person’s best interest. They could be outside, and arbitrary, and plainwrong. Especially when they were created by someone who had their own frailties and faulty agenda. It made moresense to fight back against a regulation that caused harm rather than adhere to it out of blind obedience.
“What do you suggest, Mr. Frye?” Beatrice asked him, her brows arched. “Organize an illicit assembly just outside of town limits?”
He stared at her for a long moment. And he knew just then what had to happen, what he had to do. What the squire had imposed on the town wasdamaging, in desperate need of fixing.
Beatrice had asked him last night what would make him happy, and he now understood that part of what he needed was repairing harms, shifting the balance from wrong to right, even in some small way.
“That isexactlywhat needs to transpire,” he said. “Follow me.”
Both Beatrice and Lou trailed after him as he made his way out of the grange hall. Once they were safely away from prying ears and sheltered behind a shop, he said to Lou, “If we arranged for an assembly where people could dance, someplace outside of the village’s limits, would you be able to get people from Beaumont to attend?”
“Oh, yes!” The girl’s face practically glowed with excitement. “Would you honestly do that?”
Beatrice glanced at Duncan, but she smiled and excitement made her eyes gleam. “Would we, Mr. Frye?”
What he’d wanted from being a soldier was to realign the world, to bring peace to the people for whom he fought. On his best days, that had beentrue—though, there had been very bad days when it had felt like the complete opposite.
Here, however, in Beaumont, he could create a measure of harmony, and there would be no bloodshed, no loss. Only happiness.
“If this is something the people want,” he said firmly, “then, we’re going to give it to them. There’s surely a barn or a similar structure just beyond the boundaries of the village. We can find a sympathetic farmer, and if the monetary compensation is adequate, we’ll find a venue. But you must get the word out—and find musicians.”
“I can do all of that.” Lou flung her arms around Duncan, then Beatrice. “Thank you, thank you! This will be an evening no one in Beaumont will ever forget. I’m off to spread the word.” She trotted back to the grange hall, giving them a cheerful wave, before ducking inside.
