Hope Remains: A Hope Springs Fanfiction

Chapter 12

Spinning into Mr. Kent's arms once more, Emma tried to hide her blush, hoping it looked like she was flushed from dancing. She felt guilty for being so hard on Finbarr when she knew full well he had suffered a great deal. The pain and regret she felt over Finbarr coupled with the tingling, excited awareness of Peter led to an uncomfortable evening.

"You know, I think I'd like to try my hand at the pipes," Peter commented as the musicians ended one song to take up another. "I've often heard that lawyers are full of hot air. That might be useful when playing them."

She laughed as the two of them walked off the dance floor to where her parents sat.

"Papa told me you were a lawyer, but he never mentioned why you had come."

"Your parents wanted to draw up wills," Peter replied. "After all, your father is very wealthy, he has quite a lot of assets to divide up among his children."

Her face paled, her heart turning over uncomfortably in her chest. "There's—there's nothing wrong, is there?"

"No, no," Peter rushed to reassure her. "They just want to be prepared for the distant future, that's all."

Taking in a quick, deep breath, she nodded. Everything was alright. Her reaction was likely a touch extreme, but since Mama had died, and then Marianne, she had lived in constant fear of losing those she cared about. Still, she found tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, blinking the moisture away. "It seems I'm forever crying around you."

He chuckled. "You know, my father once told me men don't carry handkerchiefs for themselves, they carry them in case a lady needs one."

Waving his proffered linen square away with an embarrassed laugh, she threaded her arm through his.

"I'm afraid I overreacted. I just don't like the idea of losing the people I love."

She'd lost too many already—most recently Finbarr, although he was not gone from this world, he was gone from hers. He had confessed his love for her, but he had already rejected her once. She didn't think her heart could take it if he did it again.

"No one does," he agreed. "But I have a feeling a fine bit of baking will cheer you up. There's a chocolate cake over on the food table I've had my eye on all night."

She smiled lightly and nodded. He had soothed her fears and he was right about a fine bit of baking being just the thing to set things right once again. They sat down together on a log, quietly talking as the group began to filter toward the bonfire. Emma loved the storytelling best of all at the ceílí. She'd heard all the old yarns dozens of times by now, but every story held a special place in heart. Perhaps it was the way each storyteller told their story, or perhaps it was the comforting familiarity of it all. But she always felt at peace in the circle as she listened to the tales.

"Listen up, I've a tale to tell ya." Tavish O'Connor had jumped to his feet, pacing near the bonfire with a huge grin on his face. "Hundreds of years ago, there was this beautiful girl called Grainne. Now, she was promised in marriage to this fella called Fionn, a cranky old warlord, old enough to be her grandfather."

The crowd had settled in, listening to the story. Emma loved this one. As she closed her eyes, she could almost picture the beautiful maiden and the cranky warlord Tavish described.

"She wasn't in love with the old man. Then, on the very night of their betrothal, whom did she meet but a handsome young warrior named Diarmuid."

Fingers slipped around hers, and she opened her eyes. Peter was watching her with a smile on his face. She glanced down at their now intertwined hands, a pleased smile pulling at her lips even as she felt her cheeks pink. He gave her fingers a squeeze before returning his gaze to Tavish.

"They fell madly in love at first sight," Tavish's voice seemed far away now. Emma was having a difficult time concentrating on anything but the feel of Peter's hand around hers. Glancing around the circle, she noticed Finbarr looking at her. She shook herself mentally, reminding herself that he couldn't actually see her. Yet, those piercing brown eyes seemed to gaze right through her to her very soul. It made her feel warm and cold all at the same time, another blush stealing over her cheeks.

"Has anyone ever told you that you blush adorably?" Peter whispered in her ear the next moment. Emma looked up at him, his warm brown eyes smiling down into hers.

"No one has ever told me that before," she murmured back, attempting to make a joke. "Ivy told me once I get splotchy when I blush."

Had Peter guessed her thoughts were centered on Finbarr? She hoped not. Peter was wonderful, she liked him quite a lot. She would not allow her childhood fancy to get in the way of something new.

"No, you don't," he replied. "Your cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink. I think I shall have to make it a mission of mine to make you blush more often."

Just like that, heat stole through her cheeks once again. He chuckled and she couldn't help but join in. She liked the way he made her smile and drew laughter out of her so easily. Finbarr had been able to do the very same thing before the fire.

"Are you two tellin' my story over there?" Tavish teased. "Perhaps you'd like to finish for me."

Emma tucked away her smile as Peter answered. "No need, go ahead and finish. You won't hear another peep out of us."

Peter tipped her a wink, drawing another giggle out of her. She knew she probably should feel embarrassed, all eyes in the circle were on them now. But instead, she just felt happy. Happier than she'd been in a long time.