Page 55 of A Snowfall of Silver

Mr Cantwell gets to his feet. He is wearing what looks like an Admiral Nelson costume, and it suits him extremely well. I particularly like the gold tassels on his shoulders, and his commitment to wearing the bicorne hat – it is the kind of whimsical touch that I would not have expected from him, and yet he looks in his element.

“A toast,” he says, tugging at the cork on a bottle of elderflower wine. We all cheer when it pops. “To Runleigh and the warm hospitality we’ve enjoyed here. I have never found myself in a situation quite like this one, and yet I find that I would not change it for the world. Nor could I ask to be stranded with a more amenable group.”

“To Runleigh!” we all chorus.

“To Hubert!” Eileen cries, causing the theatre manager to turn very pink.

“And to Sophie!” Nora joins in, turning to the woman beside her. “For keeping us poor souls fed.”

“Hear, hear!” we cry as one.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

We eat and eat until we can eat no more. Or at least I do.

“Why did I ever agree to a corset?” I groan. “I should have worn something that fits me like a tent, then I could eat some more of that gooseberry tart.”

“Perhaps just a little piece of the cheese?” Kit suggests. “On a cracker?”

I press my hand against my stomach, and wiggle experimentally. “I think the strings will hold up to another cracker and a sliver, just a sliver of cheese,” I agree. “And maybe some of that quince paste too.”

Kit prepares the cracker and hands it to me and I eye it appreciatively.

Russ shakes his head at me across the table. “I wish you’d look at me the way you look at that cracker,” he says, looping his arm lightly around the top of his chair.

“I doubt I’ll ever look at anyone that way,” I reply. “I’m fairly sure no man can compare to a perfect sharp cheddar.”

“How utterly depressing,” Russ says.

“You’re slipping, Russ,” Viola says, grinning from further down the table. “Beaten out by a piece of cheese!”

Russ laughs but I think I see a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He reaches a hand across the table and takes mine in his own, running his thumb gently over my fingers. “Perhaps you’ll give me another chance to change your mind,” he murmurs.

I pull my hand away, feeling confused. It seems the more I put Russ off, the more interesting I become to him. I need to put a stop to it, but I’m not sure how.

I turn to Sophie.

“It was kind of you to supply this incredible dinner,” I say. “My very wholehearted compliments to the chef.”

Sophie chuckles. “This chef accepts them, and you’re very welcome. I have to say it’s not every day I get invited to a shindig like this.” She glances at Nora from under her lashes, and Nora dimples in response. “And in such excellent company as well.”

“But you must have theatre companies coming through all the time,” I say. “It’s a beautiful little theatre.”

Sophie shakes her head. “Not really,” she says. “The theatre is beautiful, but we’re very out of the way. Hubert tries to keep it going – he loves the theatre, Hubert does – but earlier in the year he was talking about shutting it up. That’s why it was such a relief when your Mr Cantwell added us to his tour.”

“It’s a shame we never got to put on the play. It’s supposed to be our last night here tomorrow,” I sigh.

Nora shakes her head. “Strange, isn’t it? We’ll just have to hope the snow thaws soon. I can only imagine how wild with anxiety Miss Meriden must be.”

“Wild? Miss Meriden?” I ask disbelievingly.

“Underneath.” Nora smiles into her glass. “Underneath a very calm and capable surface, she’ll be going wild with anxiety.”

“Who fancies some dancing?” Russ’s voice calls my attention back to him, and the others murmur in agreement. Someone puts on a different record. I stand to find Russ bowing over me. “Might I have this dance?” he asks, holding out his hand.

“Of course,” I say lightly.

The left-hand side of the stage becomes our dance floor then, and it feels only right to be twirling around in the arms of a handsome man while wearing this beautiful dress. While Russ spins me around and around the stage, my skirts swirl around me, a vibrant Catherine wheel of purple and silver sparks.