O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,132

ring. Such as it was. Brock had explained that a young barrister couldn’t afford diamonds.

If Cullen noticed the ring, his bored expression didn’t change, but she was strangely sorry she’d flaunted it.

The village band announced an English country dance. Samantha sighed. In the nearby cities of Gloucester and Bristol, men and women would be partnering in the waltz. But in Aust, they were to gad about doing the Barley Mow.

Her father stood and helped his wife to her feet. “Come on, girls.”

Samantha didn’t relish the thought of barn dancing in her crinoline, but it was better than sitting all evening. “Will you join the dance?” she asked the policeman when he made no move to rise.

“I don’t dance, Samantha,” he replied.

She allowed her father to pull her along, unsettled by Cullen’s reply. The use of her given name was rather forward, but she sensed a note of regret in his voice.

It was a pity. Being twirled around a dance floor in Sgt. Cullen’s arms would be exhilarating.

“Ouch,” Grace exclaimed when Samantha stepped on her foot.

Parker inhaled deeply as he watched Miss Samantha Hindley. He couldn’t explain the thrill of hope that had shot through him when he’d first set eyes on her. It wasn’t as if she were the prettiest girl in the place, nor the most fashionably dressed, but there was something about those intriguing eyes—so dark a brown they might almost be black. A potent combination with the blonde hair, not to mention perfect breasts that strained against the confines of the modest dress.

An insistent voice kept telling him she was the one, but another, saner voice pointed out she was engaged to another man, a fact she’d made sure he was aware of. Was it a sign of his desperate loneliness that he was jealous of a man he’d never met?

If he could dance…

He snorted at his own folly. He’d likely lose his balance and crash into one of the other dancers. He envisioned the whole ensemble tumbling like a house of cards.

On the other hand, if it was a waltz, he could draw Miss Samantha Hindley’s body closer to his and…

He clenched his fists. Do what? Ask her to help him stay upright? Coming to the ball had been a bad idea, but it was as well to stay in the chief constable’s good books. Another ludicrous notion—there was no future with a small constabulary in the middle of nowhere.

He’d be an inspector by now if he’d stayed in Bristol instead of being invalided out to the sticks. A bad leg didn’t mean his brain had stopped functioning. Her Glorious Majesty might be alive thanks to him but he’d been buried in Aust. It was fortunate his uncle had taken a house here for the duration of the bridge project, but once that was over…not that Judson Cullen was much company on the rare occasions they saw each other.

Snapped out of the doldrums by the return of his table companions, he levered himself to his feet briefly as good manners dictated. It would have been better if he hadn’t looked across at Samantha. Her enticing breasts heaved as she gasped for breath. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright. His cock saluted her innocent beauty.

She’s the one, the voice repeated.

“It’s unfortunate you don’t dance, Sergeant Cullen,” she gushed. “I love to dance.”

His resolve to leave before he said something he might regret was stymied by Mr. Hindley.

“I understand the bridge designer is your uncle.”

Parker might have known his relationship with Judson would be common knowledge in the village. Aware Hindley stood to lose business with the coming of the railway across the Severn, he chose his reply carefully, trying not to look into Samantha’s wide-eyed gaze. “Yes. Although we rarely see each other.”

“Will you be at the official opening?”

Parker could think of a thousand things he’d rather do than sit on a grandstand in the howling gale forecast for the next day. “Probably. You?” He recognized his mistake when Hindley scowled.

“We’ll watch from my boat.”

“We’re all going,” Grace blurted out. “We’ll have the best view of all.”

Parker met Samantha’s gaze. It was lunacy but he convinced himself her eyes held a silent plea. The voice egged him on. “That sounds like an excellent adventure. Would you have room for one more passenger?”

Chapter Eight

Mixed Feelings

Parker awoke after a restless night. He wasn’t sure why he’d been so keen to ride the ferry with the Hindleys. His uncle would be disappointed not to see him on the grandstand.