Persuasion, Captain Wentworth and Cracklin' Cornbread

by Mary Jane Hathaway

  She searched for something to say, trying to regain her train of thought, but Theresa spoke first. “I saw Jem on the way over here.”

  Lucy forced herself not to peer around the garden. He’d said something to her about having dibs on the first dance since they’d walked down the aisle together, but she hadn’t seen him since. “I don’t think he was thrilled to be wearing breeches, but it’s funny what we’ll do for our friends.”

  “That’s the sign of a good man.”

  “Dressing up in a Regency costume?” Lucy asked, laughing.

  “That, too, but I was referring to the way he treats his friends.” Theresa looked out across the grass, watching the guests. “You can tell a lot about a man by how loyal he is to his friends.”

  Loyal. Lucy felt the word reverberate in her head. Jem had always stood by his friends, through moves and marriages and deaths and children. Lucy was the one who broke promises.

  “You two are very similar that way,” Theresa said.

  Lucy looked up in surprise. She and Theresa had only just met. The woman didn’t know much about Lucy’s life, or her history.

  Theresa went on, “I see how you take care of your sisters and watch out for your father. Loyalty is a rare thing these days. It seems as if we can make friends more easily than ever before since distance isn’t an issue when everybody lives online most of their waking hours.”

  Lucy nodded, thinking of Marcus’s hostess present for Paulette. The poster-sized selfie was the sign of a warped sort of world, where friendships started with a profile picture and hinged on gifts that fed the illusion.

  “And we can lose friends just as easily. The click of a button and you can hide them forever, as if they’d never existed,” Theresa said.

  “Maybe I’m not more loyal than the rest of the people. Maybe I’m just not able to hide the people that irritate me. It’s hard to block out a living person.”

  Theresa reached out, putting a hand on Lucy’s arm. “But you could. The fact that you think you can’t tells me a lot about you, Lucy Crawford. You’ve stepped into your mama’s shoes, and nobody thanked you for it. It’s a lot easier to walk away from responsibility, especially when it’s not really ours to carry. Not everyone would stick around to fight for their family and their home.” Theresa paused. “And not everyone would try to be friends with an ex-boyfriend.”

  Lucy dropped her gaze. The faint sounds of the band tuning their instruments sounded from the stage. “I think you might have misunderstood. We didn’t just break up— I . . .” She was suddenly aware of how much she enjoyed Theresa’s friendship and how she didn’t want to explain what she’d done so long ago. Lucy didn’t want Theresa to think any less of her. “It was my fault. I made the wrong choice. I know that now.” Her voice was just a whisper.

  “Then it means even more. You’re humble enough to face him and want to be friends. Maybe there is a second chance for you two.”

  Lucy watched couples drift toward the dance floor, laughing and talking. Without obstacles, staying in love was easy. But Lucy had failed Jem so many times that he couldn’t possibly trust her now. At dinner, when her father didn’t welcome him properly, she hadn’t said anything. In the clinic, he’d held her in his arms for one shining moment, and then she’d jumped away when she’d thought her aunt had walked through the door.

  “I think I’ve used up all my second chances.” Lucy lifted her chin. “He’s the most wonderful man I know. He deserves better.”

  Theresa blinked, shocked. “Better? Than you? Girl, I know how it is to look at a man through the lens of a deep and passionate love, but Jem is still a human being. He has his own faults, his own failings.”

  Lucy nodded, but wasn’t convinced. Jem needed a woman who would never let him down.

  “You should really watch the rest of Persuasion.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t made it back to finish the movie.”

  “Oh, dear, not a problem. We have all the time in the world.” Theresa paused. “I know you think we Austen fans are crazier than all get-out, but there’s a lot of truth in those books.”

  Lucy’s lips twisted. She knew Theresa would love to give them a happy ending, but life wasn’t as simple as fiction.

  “You haven’t seen the end, but Captain Wentworth realizes he loves Anne. He wants to ask for her hand, but he thinks she might be engaged to her cousin —”

  “But if Jem felt that way about me”—Lucy hated the hope in her voice—“he wouldn’t have any reason not to say something. He could say anything he wanted, at any time.”

  “What I was going to say was that it can go both ways.”

  “You mean, I should tell him how I feel?” The very idea made her stomach roll up into a ball.

  Theresa glanced toward the band and smiled. “I’m tellin’ you to take what opportunities present themselves.”

  The dance floor was filling with couples, and the fading summer light bathed everything in a warm glow. Lucy thought of how afraid she’d been to show up at his party, of how her hands had shook when she slipped on that ugly prom dress, of how her heart had pounded when she carried the pan of cornbread through the little garden gate. But she had done it because she knew that if she didn’t take the opportunity to apologize, she would regret it forever.

  Could telling Jem that she loved him be any worse than asking his forgiveness?

  Caroline appeared beside them. She introduced herself to Theresa and said, “Are you two ready for the dancing? They brought a band in that is going to teach us some of the reels. My husband says he’s not dancing, but I bet Jennie, the caller, can convince him.” She grinned and waved toward the stage.

  “I think they’re the same ones who played at the Wrigley barn that night for the party I told you about.” Theresa nodded to a tiny African American woman and four men who stood at the ready.

  Someone brought her a microphone and she tapped it with her finger. “Hey, y’all.”

  The crowd started to quiet down. People drifted away from the punch table and toward the long dance floor in the middle of the grass.

  “My name is Jennie, and this is my band.” She introduced them one by one, and they stepped forward to take a bow. “I’m right tickled to be callin’ the dances at this wedding.” She waved a couple up to the front. “Brooks, come up here. Bring your pretty wife.”

  Lucy let out a laugh as Brooks turned and gave Caroline a knowing look. She hurried to him and they went to the front, hand in hand.

  “We’re going to show you a few moves. Real simple. I want you to practice with each other, and then we’re going to have a real good time.”

  Jennie started calling moves, and everyone stood on tiptoe to see Brooks and Caroline. Lucy thought they looked like something out of a book, both blond and so clearly in love.

  “Grab a partner and give it a whirl,” Jennie called out.

  “I better grab Jacob before some other woman asks him. Doesn’t he look handsome tonight?” Theresa didn’t wait for an answer but crossed the grass to Dr. Stroud. He was standing near the punch table, deep in conversation with several older gentlemen. As Theresa took his arm, Lucy smiled at the sight of the pair. He was wearing his seersucker suit and a bright red bow tie, and they seemed as if someone had gotten the eras confused when they’d hit the time-travel button.

  “Would you care to dance?” Lucy knew who it was before she turned, but she still blinked in shock.

  “I . . . yes. I do. Want to dance.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I haven’t even been drinking. All of that was natural.”

  He was smiling, tiny lines radiating from the corners of his eyes. He held out a hand and she placed hers in it. Her heart was pounding so hard she was afraid he could hear it. Theresa’s words had planted a seed of doubt. She knew Jem didn’t hate her. He might even feel something for her. Would she ruin everything they had worked f
or? Would their tentative friendship be cut off with one awkward move?

  They stood on the dance floor side by side. She tried to listen to Jennie’s calls and watch the couples move from one place to another, but seconds later, she was lost.

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” she said.

  “We’ll fake it. And if push comes to shove, we can just sing ‘Goober Peas’ and waltz around.”

  She giggled. “Rebecca might not find that very funny.”

  “Rebecca is a Yankee. You can tell because there aren’t any cheese straws on the snack table.”

  Again, they lined up facing each other. The fiddler started first, and the tune was slow and mournful. After a few bars the other instruments jumped in, and the rhythm picked up. Jem bowed to her and Lucy curtsied.

  She realized she hadn’t really been paying enough attention because when Jennie started to call out the turns, they made no sense. “Men allemande half to the left. Left one-half and half a hey,” Jennie called to the beat, singing out steps. “Ladies chain and circle right. Do-si-do and make it right, back to your man and face each other.”

  Lucy was being passed from hand to hand, unsure of where to turn or what to do.

  Jem appeared and he was laughing at her expression, and then he was gone again. Theresa appeared and she gripped Lucy’s right hand, swinging her in a circle and giving her back to Jem.

  “There you are,” he said, and saw a moment later than he was in the wrong spot. He shuffled forward, a sheepish look on his face.

  Jennie called out, “Gypsy turn,” and the couples put their palms together and turned in a circle. Lucy searched for Jem and found him alone, looking as lost as she was. She waved, and he rolled his eyes.

  Jennie called out another gypsy turn and everyone moved in the opposite direction. Jem grabbed Lucy’s hand and tugged her from the group.

  She gasped, “But we’re supposed to dance.”

  “I have no idea what I’m doing and neither do you.” He steered her toward the refreshment table. She couldn’t really argue with that and was relieved to leave the dance floor.

  They stood in front of the dessert table. “What do you think this is?” Jem asked, wiggling the metal tray under a large gelatinous mound.

  “I’m not really sure, but I think I see baby asparagus and . . .” She leaned down, squinting into the molded dessert. “Green olives.”

  “Yikes.” Jem chuckled. “So the food is weird, but the setting is nice.”

  “You can’t do much better than the William Faulkner House.” She looked out at the evening sky. The sun was still bright but the heat of the day was gone. She thought of what Theresa had said about taking the opportunity if it presented itself, and of how Paulette had known that Lucy was in love with Jem. Everything and everyone seemed to be leading her to this moment. She prayed that she wasn’t making a huge mistake. “Have you ever seen the path that runs to the little footbridge?”

  He frowned. “I don’t think so. I’ve only been here once on a school trip.”

  “Come on, I’ll show you.” She took one last glance at the quivering food and headed for the edge of the grass. “It’s not very far.”

  “At least I’m dressed for riding, in case I encounter a horse.”

  She snorted. “I’m sure you guys weren’t real happy about the clothes, but you look very handsome.”

  He said nothing for a moment and they walked farther along the path, until the trees grew thick and close together.

  “Are you sure you’re not planning to lead me out here and then lose me in the forest?”

  “Did you fill your pockets with bread crumbs? Or was it stones in the fairy tale?”

  “I think bread crumbs get eaten,” he said. “But I’m a little wary of filling my pockets with rocks right near a river, either.”

  “Very Virginia Woolf.” Lucy looked at him, trying to not trip on the edge of her gown. “But why would I be trying to lose you in the woods anyway?”

  He shrugged. “It would be easier on you.”

  She stopped. “If you weren’t around?”

  “Right.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know it’s hard for you to have me in your house.” His face was half in shadow but she could see the set of his mouth.

  “Only because . . .” And then she stopped, knowing that if she was really truthful, she would tell Jem exactly why it was hard to have him near.

  “The patients? Your aunt?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

  She tried to speak, but all she could think of was the day when Jem would leave again. She hadn’t realized it, but even though it was painful to know he was near, she couldn’t bear the thought of his leaving. Looking down at the edge of her dress, she felt the burn of tears and tried to force them back.

  “What is it? Did I say something wrong?” He let out an exasperated noise. “Just ignore me. I’ve never been really good at words.”

  “Not good at words? But that’s all we had, really. We lived and breathed words, that’s when we fell in love, how we learned to listen to each other.”

  His blue eyes turned dark. “No, it wasn’t then. It was all those times we weren’t even talking.” He stepped closer. “Those hours we spent under the trees near the trailer park. That afternoon under the willow. Even your back porch.”

  Lucy’s face went hot. She remembered every single one of those times. “So, how do we learn to understand each other now? We’re not teenagers anymore. We’ve grown up and have to have conversations like adults.”

  The corner of his mouth slid up. “Maybe not all the time.”

  She realized what he meant the moment before he reached out for her. She walked into his embrace, her heart pounding so loudly she couldn’t hear what he whispered against her lips. All she knew was the press of his hands against her back, the crush of his arms around her, and she had never felt so happy. One kiss slid into another, and another. He kissed a trail down her neck and she thought she was going to slip to the ground. Her knees felt weak and she couldn’t quite grasp a full thought, but only knew that she had waited for this moment for ten long years.

  “Lucy,” he groaned against her mouth, and almost lifted her off her feet.

  She had never yearned for a man who was rough or anything less than absolutely respectful, but when his hands threaded into her hair, releasing it from the Regency style, she shuddered.

  “Oops,” someone said, laughing.

  Jem lifted his head.

  A blond girl giggled, stumbling against her friend, a tall man with a crew cut. “Oh, I know you. You’re that new boyfriend of Regan’s. She’s gonna have a duck fit,” the girl said. “She can’t stand a cheater.”

  “Nobody’s cheating on anybody,” Jem said, and didn’t let go of Lucy.

  “Kaycee?” Regan’s voice called out. “Kaycee, you’ve got my keys in your purse.” The next moment, Regan appeared, looking irritated and sweaty.

  Regan’s gaze traveled from her friend to Jem to Lucy. Regan’s eyes widened as she took in Lucy’s hair falling loose around her shoulders and Jem’s arms around her waist. Regan stalked forward, face furious. “I . . . You . . .” She reached out and slapped him hard across the face. Lucy felt the shock travel through his body and into her arms. Regan turned on her heel and stomped back down the path. The sound of her sobs carried back to them long after they couldn’t see her anymore.

  “Told ya so,” Kaycee said. “All you cheaters think you can get away with it, but the girl always finds out.”

  Lucy looked at Jem and started to move away.

  “No, I don’t know what she’s talking about.” He gripped her arms, holding her in place.

  “Not at all? Not even a little?” Lucy could feel doubt push against her heart, like a wave
of icy-cold water. She’d seen him flirt with Regan, and he’d let her touch him in a way that Lucy would never have dared. Maybe it wasn’t just that he was too embarrassed to move her hands away. Maybe there had been more to it after all.

  “Not even a little.” His mouth was a tight line. “I mean, I knew that she thought we were dating, but I figured she would get over it.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “It means just what I said.” He sounded frustrated and his tone was sharp. “I thought she would just move on after a while.”

  Lucy looked up and saw Kaycee and the blond guy with the crew cut, smirking. A numbness filled Lucy’s chest and traveled down to her feet. She couldn’t have this conversation here, not now, in front of these people.

  “Let me go,” she whispered, and tugged against him.

  He released her, his eyes dark with pain. “Lucy—”

  “I’m going back to the reception. I shouldn’t have led you here in the first place.” She paused. “Maybe I’m like Regan, throwing myself at you when you’re really not interested, and you just go along with it, hoping eventually I’ll move on.”

  “No, it wasn’t like—”

  She’d already moved past him and was hurrying up the path. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she bit her cheek, forcing herself not to cry. It was so juvenile to wander into the woods and make out with a guy at someone else’s wedding. More than Jem, she was disappointed in herself. She was a grown woman, not a teenager. All it took was a pretty dress and some Regency costumes, and she had let herself act like someone much younger, someone who had never had her heart broken.

  “I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as arewithin my reach.”

  —CAPTAIN WENTWORTH

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jem wandered up the flagstone path and watched Zeke pouring chicken feed in metal containers. Jem felt exhausted and hollow, as if someone had scooped out all his working parts and left him full of dust.

  Zeke looked up and called, “Morning.”