A Brambleberry Manor Christmas - Rosie Green Page 0,63

that is some outfit.’

I nod. Marjery looks amazing in her pale blue satin floor-length gown with the puffed sleeves and the elegant hat to match, decorated with jewels and a jaunty feather. Her long cream evening gloves complete the picture perfectly.

I look around the ballroom and spot Noah immediately, looking heart-stoppingly gorgeous in boots and pale riding breaches, and a dark tail-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 they become engrossed in the food.

I can’t see Melanie or Constance.

And then, just as the thought goes through my mind, Melanie is 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 her face. But I barely register her expression, distracted as I am by how stunningly beautiful she looks in her pretty buttermilk muslin dress with its low square neckline showing off her figure to perfection.

‘Wow!’ says Flo. ‘You look amazing, Melanie.’

She smiles. ‘Thank you.’ Her eyes are sparkling and there are bright spots of colour in her cheeks as she stares over at Noah. ‘I’ve loved 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’s thinking. But I paste on a smile, determined not to show how panicked I’m feeling.

Melanie takes a deep breath, then she grabs my arm. ‘Can you be ready with a shed-load of carbs if it all goes horribly wrong? I think I might need them.’

I swallow hard. ‘You’ll be fine. Go for it!’

‘Okay.’ Her eyes shining, fixed on Noah, Melanie straightens her shoulders, holds her head high and glides off, her deportment as graceful as 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 of speech, I’m so confused. I don’t want Melanie to be crushed by rejection – not after loving him for so long. That would be terrible. But do I really want Noah to smile and gather her into his arms? My insides feel hollow just thinking about 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 literally swept me off my feet, flying down that zip wire…

‘What’s she doing?’ Flo frowns. ‘Why’s she chatting to Fergus.’

‘Just making small talk until she gets to the important stuff,’ I murmur, unable to drag my eyes away from the drama unfolding in front of me, like a scene from a Jane Austen novel.

‘Are you sure?’

And then my heart skips a beat. ‘She’s asked Fergus to dance?’

We watch in silent bemusement as the pair stand at the edge of 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 around the floor.

‘Fergus can dance!’ says Flo.

‘Fergus is brilliant. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that he knows how to waltz.’

Inside, I’m fizzing with joy. I somehow managed to get the wrong 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 away from the enchanting scene, following Melanie and Fergus with our eyes around the 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 lazy smile of his. For a moment, everything seems to stand still – it’s as if we’re the only two people in the room – and a flush surges into my cheeks.

He holds a thumb up at me, and I give him a shy little wave before ducking out with Flo.

‘He likes you, you know. Noah,’ says Flo, making my heart beat faster. ‘I had an inkling before but I thought you were too cut up about Harvey to be interested. But now that I know the full story, I think it’s high time you moved on.’

The heat in my face intensifies. But to hide my delight, I laugh and say, ‘Kettle calling the pot black, I think, don’t you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Hard Hat Man? He seemed rather attractive to me, and