Page 65 of A Brambleberry Manor Christmas
‘It’s more Jane Austen than Cinderella, I’d say,’ says Flo.‘It’s like a ball scene fromPride & Prejudice.’
I nod. ‘Marjery’s a big Jane Austen fan, apparently, so shemust be in her element tonight. Look what she’s wearing.’
Flo locates her, standing with her husband, talking to Rhodaand Bob. Her eyebrows shoot up. ‘Wow, that is some outfit.’
I nod. Marjery looks amazing in her pale blue satinfloor-length gown with the puffed sleeves and the elegant hat to match,decorated with jewels and a jaunty feather. Her long cream evening glovescomplete the picture perfectly.
I look around the ballroom and spot Noah immediately,looking heart-stoppingly gorgeous in boots and pale riding breaches, and a darktail-coat over a gold-embroidered waistcoat. He’s standing talking to Fergus,and as I watch, Belle, one of the serving staff, offers them a platter and theybecome engrossed in the food.
I can’t see Melanie or Constance.
And then, just as the thought goes through my mind, Melanieis there behind us, murmuring, ‘I’m going to do it, girls. Now. It’s time…’
We turn and she’s standing there, a nervous look on herface. But I barely register her expression, distracted as I am by howstunningly beautiful she looks in her pretty buttermilk muslin dress with itslow square neckline showing off her figure to perfection.
‘Wow!’ says Flo. ‘You look amazing, Melanie.’
She smiles. ‘Thank you.’ Her eyes are sparkling and thereare bright spots of colour in her cheeks as she stares over at Noah. ‘I’veloved that guy since uni days but I never plucked up the courage to tell him.But tonight’s the night!’
Flo shoots me a worried glance, and I know what she’sthinking. But I paste on a smile, determined not to show how panicked I’mfeeling.
Melanie takes a deep breath, then she grabs my arm. ‘Can yoube ready with a shed-load of carbs if it all goes horribly wrong? I think Imight need them.’
I swallow hard. ‘You’ll be fine. Go for it!’
‘Okay.’ Her eyes shining, fixed on Noah, Melanie straightensher shoulders, holds her head high and glides off, her deportment as gracefulas any of Jane Austen’s heroines.
‘Gosh,’ says Flo, transfixed. ‘What do you think he’ll say?’
But I can’t even answer her. I seem to have lost my power ofspeech, I’m so confused. I don’t want Melanie to be crushed by rejection – notafter loving him for so long. That would be terrible. But do I really want Noahto smile and gather her into his arms? My insides feel hollow just thinkingabout that.
I guess I’ve got it really bad for Noah, I think miserably.I guess I’ve had it bad ever since that very first meeting, when he literallyswept me off my feet, flying down that zip wire…
‘What’s she doing?’ Flo frowns. ‘Why’s she chatting toFergus.’
‘Just making small talk until she gets to the importantstuff,’ I murmur, unable to drag my eyes away from the drama unfolding in frontof me, like a scene from a Jane Austen novel.
‘Are you sure?’
And then my heart skips a beat. ‘She’s askedFergustodance?’
We watch in silent bemusement as the pair stand at the edgeof the floor, heads together, talking urgently. Then Fergus looks over at Noah.And Noah beams at him and sticks up both thumbs. After that vote of confidence,Fergus smiles at Melanie, takes her in his arms and starts leading her aroundthe floor.
‘Fergus can dance!’ says Flo.
‘Fergus is brilliant. It doesn’t surprise me in the leastthat he knows how to waltz.’
Inside, I’m fizzing with joy. I somehow managed to get thewrong end of the stick entirely!
The object of Melanie’s affections isn’t Noah at all.
It’s Fergus…
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Flo and I are about to drag ourselves reluctantly awayfrom the enchanting scene, following Melanie and Fergus with our eyes aroundthe ballroom dance floor, when Noah – on the opposite side of the room –glances towards the door and spots me looking over.
He turns slightly, acknowledging me and smiling that lazysmile of his. For a moment, everything seems to stand still – it’s as if we’rethe only two people in the room – and a flush surges into my cheeks.
