The man ahead of Kate in the waiting line at the grocer’s shop kept turning to look at her, beaming a friendly smile each time their eyes met. When he headed for the street as she stepped up to the counter with her shopping bag, she allowed herself a sigh of relief. She definitely was not ready for such a blatant approach. As she stepped outside, her hands full of heavy bags, he stood waiting near the stables, looking exactly like one of the men Emily Coleman had mentioned.
‘You must be Miss Courtney,’ he said, his smile a yard wide.
‘Indeed I am.’ Now Kate could take a proper look at the man. He stood tall, trim. He was clean-shaven—unusual for a man in these parts. His blue eyes never faltered as he held his gaze. A swathe of light brown wavy hair fell across his forehead, and his clothes looked as if they were fresh from the washerwoman. Also most unusual. How did he know her name? He was likely too young to have a child at school.
‘I’m Darcy Forbes,’ he said. ‘Chief engineer at Northern Consolidated.’
A brilliant opening line, Kate thought, biting back a smile. Northern Consolidated was the biggest mine in the region. Darcy was very young to be holding down a senior job there. As she mulled over what to say next, he stepped into the breach. He held out a hand. She shook it, trying not to compare its feel with Tom’s.
‘Emily Coleman told me about you,’ he said. ‘Bruce Coleman—that’s Emily’s husband—we work together.’ He paused. ‘They had me to dinner last weekend. Emily said you were new in town. Didn’t know many people. Suggested we should meet up. Suggested I should take you for a cup of tea one weekend. Soon.’
‘Mmm,’ Kate murmured. ‘One of the best lines I’ve heard this year. I’d give you eight out of ten for it.’ Now she could let her smile out of its box.
‘So where did I go wrong?’ He wound his own wide smile up a notch.
‘Very well. Ten out of ten,’ she said. ‘Perhaps I’m rather jaded. I must have lived in the city for too long.’
‘Really? And I thought you played sweet-natured country lass rather well. Definitely ten out of ten.’
‘Yes. They always told me I was a born actor,’ she said. That was a flagrant fib. She’d been told far too many times, ever since her debut as Cinderella’s Ugly Sister Number Two in a school play at age seven, that she had zero acting talent.
‘Aren’t I lucky!’ He smiled. His toothy grin almost split his face. ‘I just enjoyed a conversation with a famous actress. Tell me, Miss Courtney, are you in town to do a play? Hamlet? Julius Caesar, perhaps?’
‘My lips are sealed,’ she said, deciding to join in the fun. ‘You’ll have to speak to my director.’
‘I have a better idea,’ he said. ‘Afternoon tea this afternoon. Not at the Great Eastern.’
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Tea at not the Great Eastern.’
After tea in the surprisingly civilised managers’ dining hall at Northern Consolidated’s resplendent offices, Darcy took Kate home in his smart gig. When he pulled up outside her cottage and she stepped down from her seat, he smiled at her.
‘Busy next Saturday?’ asked the man Kate had privately labelled Mr Darcy.
‘Well, no. But—’ She stepped back from the gig, clutching her shopping.
‘Very well, milady. I shall call for you at six. A rather splendid Saturday night dinner at the company’s management dining hall. They do a not bad a la carte menu.’ Before Kate had time to refuse, he powered away with a wave and a grin.
In the quiet of her cottage, Kate found herself drifting back into a forbidden territory—Tom land. Tom and Laetitia would be married now. Bending to the task of making lots of children. Keeping Kenilworth Station in the family had been Tom’s primary goal in life ever since his blue-blooded mother had grilled him on the absolute necessity of maintaining the Fortescue family’s noble bloodlines.
Kate still missed Tom. Missed his smile, the warmth of his muscled body moving close to hers as they packed away the lesson for the day, the chance brush of his hand as they cleared the dinner dishes. Lately, she’d resigned herself to the impossibility of forgetting him, of erasing him from her life like a teacher wipes a blackboard. Tom Fortescue was a germ who’d infected her very soul. Like someone who has contracted tuberculosis, she might never purge him from her soul.
After the Saturday night dinner with Mr Darcy, she let him hold her hand as they walked to his gig in the dark. But no goodnight kiss. As he went to take her in his arms, she smiled and ducked away.
‘I’m not ready yet,’ she said as he helped her down from her seat.
‘When will you be ready, Kate?’ he whispered.
‘I’ll advise you,’ she said. ‘It might be some time.’
Back in her cottage, she sat in the warm dark and dreamed of Tom.
***
‘The company’s annual ball is on in a couple of weeks,’ Mr Darcy told Kate over the following Saturday night’s dinner. ‘And you’re invited. Lucky girl!’
‘Indeed? And to whom do I owe my heartfelt gratitude for that signal honour?’
‘What I meant was, will you be my partner?’
‘Very well. On the understanding there are no strings attached.’
‘Strings? What do you mean?’
‘Nothing, Darcy. Nothing.’ She paused, trying not to laugh as he feigned boyish innocence. ‘But I’ll confess to something. A deep, worsening pain.’ She put a hand under her breast. ‘Here, in my heart.’ As his look turned to horror, she laughed.
‘What’s a girl to wear?’
‘Oh, that. The administration people have ordered a bunch of costumes. From a Perth fancy dress store. This year’s ball is called Return to Regency. So all the costumes are to be Regency. A few days before the ball, everyone, men included, goes down to the storeroom and chooses their clothes. Last year we all wore harlequin outfits. Hysterical! Next year it might be medieval.’
‘Very well, sir. Katherine Tudor accepts your kind invitation. And she can’t wait to dress up as a queen. Or worse.’
***
From the moment Kate set foot in the Granite Ridge Community Hall two Saturday nights later, her mind slid into déjà vu. Granite Ridge had become another version of Croydon Creek’s Pioneers’ Ball, from the strings of coloured lights draped over the building, to the clusters of tables seating the wildly overdressed guests. At least the dancing was less challenging. There were no complicated gyrations like the one where she’d sprained her ankle during the tortuous tango. And to Darcy’s credit, he tried hard to help her enjoy their turns on the dance floor.
Too soon, the moment would come for the band to play Auld Lang Syne. The men would rise and, more or less gallantly, escort their partners out into the warmth of the desert night. Very likely, Mr Darcy would want his first kiss. Since that first awkward meeting outside the grocer’s shop, he’d been decent, understanding. But he’d been more than somewhat obvious about his intentions. In a town where men outnumbered women about ten to one, every Granite Ridge man without a regular lady friend was on the hunt for one.
Kate would refuse him, of course. And thereby earn a reputation as a cold, selfish fish. She’d find herself cut out of Granite Ridge society—an inconvenience she would face with appropriate stoicism. She’d come to like Mr Darcy. But her heart hadn’t. As always, in her solitary evenings she found herself dreaming of Tom. And always at the wrong moments. The recent ball had been too much of a walk down memory lane.
‘Kate.’ As they sat in Mr Darcy’s gig outside the Community Hall, she braced herself. A few minutes before, the last of the couples had shuffled outside and driven away.
‘Yes, Darcy.’
‘Is tonight the—night?’
‘You know the answer.’
‘But I thought you seemed to enjoy the ball. The dancing.’
‘Indeed I did. Thank you for your kind invitation. I felt rather like Cinderella.’
‘But—’
‘Darcy. Forgive me, but you’re beginning to sound tiresome. Perhaps you want me to pay the rent outstanding for all the dinners you’ve taken me to.’
‘You know that’s not so, Kate.’ Darcy’s voice cracked a little. ‘But a man has feelings. Especially when he’s close to a beauty like you. A dozen men tonight told me you looked beautiful. Most admitted to being jealous.’
‘Take me home please, Darcy.’ He flicked the reins, drove her to her cottage, pulled up.
‘Goodnight, Kate.’ He stared at the stars as she gathered her things.
‘Goodnight, Darcy.’ She kept her voice light. ‘And thank you most sincerely for a delightful evening.’
‘What if this were our last night out, Kate?’
‘I’d be sorry to hear that.’
‘A man has, well, needs. I like you, Kate. Emily Coleman told me you were a lovely person. She didn’t know the half of it. Since we’ve spent time together, I’ve come to …’
He couldn’t be on the point of telling her he loved her. They’d enjoyed a few dinners together, a few jokes over afternoon tea. Nothing more.
His voice dried up. The silence lengthened. Kate slid a look towards the man who sat beside her, hands on the reins, staring up into the star-studded sky. A minute dragged by. Then another. Without warning, he lifted the reins, ready to flick them.
Kate understood. She slid from her seat and stood beside the gig.
‘Goodnight, Darcy. You’re a lovely man. I’ve enjoyed our times together. And I know you’ll find someone.’
As he drove away she walked to her door. Why had she rewarded a handsome, decent man—a man any girl could fall for—with total coldness? She’d answered that question many times. There was only one man in the world she could ever love. And he’d long ago become a glass of water thrown into a fast-flowing stream. Still, she was glad she’d stood up to the subtle pressure applied so long and so hard by Darcy. Vida Goldstein would be proud of her. She was a woman with her own needs, her own values—not a man’s plaything. Tomorrow morning she’d head off to school and lose herself in her teaching.