Tom nearly wept when he saw the flowers, and his mother proclaimed the wreath sublime.
“You’ll have to keep them fresh, have to tend to them, my boy,” Elsbet said to him. “You don’t want to disappoint on the big day.” And then, overwhelmed with emotion, she pulled Rowan to her bosom. “My daughter! My lovely daughter!” she cried.
The celebration went on into the evening, and the inn opened its doors to the public, so that their numbers might grow. Wilhelm even cleared some tables that there might be dancing, and Rowan and Tom took turn after turn on the floor, Rowan laughing in a way she hadn’t for what seemed like an eternity.
Only Jude didn’t appear to be enjoying himself. He stood in the corner, staring at Rowan with the oddest look, and for a moment, she thought she saw something like genuine affection in his eyes. When he noticed her looking, that affection seemed to be replaced with sadness, but still he met her eyes as if he were asking her an unanswerable question.
“What is it?” Tom asked, noticing she’d become distracted.
“This is going to sound strange, but I’m wondering if I should have a talk with Jude.”
“With Jude? Now?”
“Now’s as good a time as any. If I’m to be part of this family, I won’t be made to feel uncomfortable within it.”
Tom nodded, an anxious look in his eye. “Don’t be too hard on him.”
Rowan laughed. “I’ll be a perfect lamb. I promise.”
But just as she started over to the boy, Jude turned and, opening the back door, headed out into the snow. She slipped out behind him, and as she stepped into the yard, the coldness of the night stung her face.
“Jude, wait,” she called, and he turned around just as the door to the inn closed behind her.
“Why are you following me?” he asked, his face unreadable.
They stood across the yard from each other, the snow silent between them, and Rowan realized that she had no idea what she wanted to say. Slowly she walked over to him, and she had the distinct feeling that she was approaching a deer in the wild and that at any second it might dart away from her and she would lose it forever.
“What is it, Ro?”
“I want to talk to you,” she said, feeling a strange pull to him, a desire to reach out and take his hand, but the look in his eyes indicated that she should do no such thing.
“Talk, then,” he said, sitting down on the stone wall at the edge of the forest.
“I want to start over,” she said, the words coming quickly, her head a little muzzy from the ale. “I know that you don’t like me. I know that you don’t want me to marry Tom, but it’s going to happen, so why not make the best of it? I mean, we can start over, can’t we? We can try to be friends. Whatever it is I do that so bothers you, I’m sure I can work on it, and all the things you do that bother me, maybe you could stop doing some of those things too.”
He snickered and shook his head but didn’t answer.
“Say something,” she pleaded, but he only shook his head again.
He looked up at her, and their eyes locked. From him radiated a frightening intensity. “Don’t do it,” he said.
“What?” she asked, confused, her head suddenly swimming.
“Don’t do it,” he said again. “Call off the wedding.”
“You’re joking,” she said, but she could see in his eyes that he wasn’t.
“I’m not. Don’t do it. Don’t marry him.”
She laughed, but it was a pained kind of laughter. Why was this happening, just when she was finally beginning to feel she might learn to be happy with this marriage? The glow of the firelight and the sparkle of the ale had made her feel she was living in a kind of dream, but then as usual, Jude had to tear it all down and expose the harsh, cold reality of her life for what it was.
“It’s not my choice,” she said, touching a finger to her nuptial twine. Soon it would be replaced with a wife’s twine, woven of fine golden thread to show that the vows had been said. Her gut wrenched when she thought of it.
He shook his head. “There’s always a choice.”
“But there isn’t,” she said, stepping closer to him. “I’ve spoken with my father, and he’s decided.”
“You did that?” he asked, something like hope moving across his features. “You asked your father to let you out of it?”
Rowan froze when she realized the mistake she had just made by telling Jude. “Oh, please don’t tell Tom. I was confused. I didn’t realize what I wanted.”
“You mean you didn’t realize what other people wanted for you.”
She closed her eyes. “Why do you always have to do this to me, Jude? Why can’t you just be a friend?”
He looked her deep in the eyes. “Because I can’t,” he said.
She took a step back, the world suddenly spinning. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you not to marry him.”
Rowan was shocked. She knew the boy disliked her, yet to be so rude as to tell her not to marry his brother seemed extreme even for Jude. But she did her best not to appear upset. There was no point in giving him the upper hand. She cleared her throat. “I just told you that I have to,” she said. “I’ve no other option.”
“You could run away,” he said, a strange note to his voice.
“You’re telling me,” she said, nearly choking on her rising anger, “that I should run away from my village rather than cause you the inconvenience of living in your home?”
He didn’t respond. He just looked at her, and though she wanted to continue the argument, wanted to finally have the last word with him, he turned and walked away.
“You can’t leave in the middle of this, Jude,” she called after him. “Where are you going?”
But as she spoke, he hopped over the wall and disappeared into the night.
Rowan wandered inside, feeling as though something in her were injured and raw. And when she returned to the warmth of the inn, and the song and the dance, she couldn’t help but notice that everything seemed somehow less beautiful.
Just as Rowan was drifting off to sleep that night, the door swung open and there stood Emily with a candle lamp, the wick burning low.
“What are you doing?” asked Rowan.
“I’ve come to check you haven’t left a window open, and there you are with yours wide as a grouper’s mouth. Here I’ve bolted all the doors, and then as I was about to climb into my bed, I thought how you like to sleep with the window always cracked, no matter how cold the weather, and I decided I’d better come in here and close that fool window for you before something awful crawls inside.”
Rowan cringed. “Lovely image, Emily. Especially just before bed. Thank you.”
“Someone has to watch you,” she said.
And as Rowan lay there, glad for her friend’s presence, she couldn’t help but admire her nightgown. It looked more of a sundress than a typical nightgown, and it was beautiful—white with eyelet lace, and at the base of the left strap an embroidered green flower.
“Emily, is that new?”
“Indeed,” she said, showing it off. “Bill’s mum made it for me. I’m hoping it means something good that she did.”
Rowan sat up in bed, excited. “Oh, it has to. It can’t be long before you two are wed.”
“I hope so.” Emily grinned. “Not that I want to risk leaving your father, but my guess is that if Mr. Rose will have him, Bill would love to come and work here as well. Then I’d be able to stay on.” She pressed a hand to her heart, and a blush rose in her cheeks. “Listen to me prattling on like the vows have already been said, when all that’s happened is his mother’s made me a sleeping gown as a present.”