I made the construction of a new gown my highest goal; it was finished the night I went to the dance with Cullah. His father drove the coach, accompanied by that old parson I had spoken with, so that everything was quite proper. The parson did not recognize me, so I left off questioning him whether he’d seen August.
Cullah did not mention the gown, though he did remark on the ribbon on my bonnet. He seemed at first distant, and sat out more than one dance to confer with the old parson. I said to him that he wore those new boots well and that I hoped he had indeed learned to dance in them. And in truth there was no step at which he was not adept, though he turned about with many girls more than me on that floor. I felt eyes upon us when we danced, and then it seemed they were on him even when I sat. I had to go to the balcony more than once to catch some fresh air, for the place was stifling. He drove me home, begged again to spend the night, and left me, whistling one of the reels loud enough to keep the Indians and fairies at bay. It was the most diverting evening I had ever experienced, with enjoyable food and gracious music.
Then, I did not see or hear from Cullah for a week. I worked at first cheerily, but as time wore on without a word from him, I grew pensive, and felt I had been tricked into this work and the waste of that rich cloth I could have sold for a goodly sum. My trepidation turned to anger, and I put the gown away in my trunk.
One gray morning, I caught the smell of snow coming on the breeze, as subtle as a rose. Something in the breeze carried the faint taste of mint and comfrey tea. And that day, there came a conveyance such as I had only seen in town. A flat wagon, driven by Cullah himself, came rattling up to my house. “Pa told me you have need of this!” he called from the seat. He took down pieces of wood, shaped and honed, carved with designs in parts and painted, too. As he got each piece on the ground and put it into place, turning screws and tapping here and there, a chest began to take shape.
I thought he had brought the old chest in the front of his shop, but this was a new linen press and not the same size at all. “I did not order this,” I said. “Though it is nice.”
Cullah faced me and said, “Jacob said you saw the ones out front. They’re just examples. I thought, after I was here last, that you need something to put your work into, so it doesn’t come to stacking it on the floor. I measured the place by the loom. If I’m any good at my craft, this ought to fit in it.”
I watched him tug the chest through the door and wiggle it into place in its corner by the loom, so snug as if it had always been meant for that spot. I could not help clapping my hands happily. Such warmth spread through me, I wanted to hug and kiss him. I closed my eyes, thinking, do not lie to me, oh, my heart. Bear no false witness of my feelings, for I fear that I love this man.
He stared into my eyes, a mixture of emotions playing upon his face, and then said, “You went with me to the dance with no ill effects. But I have told you my wish that you marry me. I tell you now that I will wait for you to have me. Until the day you tell me to stop waiting, that you love another, I will wait.”
“You do not ask whether I love you.”
“If you grow to love me that would be excellent. For now, that you tolerate me would be enough. I know I love you with my very core. Everything I have and all that I am I would give to you. I will hold that love sacred until you tell me it is all lost. Until you say you love another. That day I will bury it. If I must wait until the waves stop coming from the sea, so be it.”
“You give very little quarter.”
“Love and war. No quarter given, none asked.”
“Cullah. Eadan. Is there any other thing in your past than that which your father told me?”
“Such as a wife and seven children?”
I laughed. “I was thinking since Jacob took the Stone of Scotland perhaps you’d stolen the crown jewels. Is there a wife?”
“No. Although I have, well, learned a few manly arts from a tart or two.”
“And would you be inclined to return to them, say, when I am sick on childbed?”
“What kind of rogue do you take me for, woman?”
“I want a man who is steadfast and chaste. Past tarts excused. Future tarts will be cause for great strife and a clout on the head. Before drawing and quartering.”
“Miss Talbot, you are a stern taskmaster.”
“I shall need a stick, then.”
“I will fetch you one.”
“I shall marry you, then.”
He gasped with a look on his face that made me see him as he might have been when but a child. “You will?”
“Despite my lack of arts and understanding, sir, I find that I love the very sight of you. The way your hair will not part straight. The way you laugh. I cannot but move my hand across my loom that it is not touching your cheek.”
Cullah sank to one knee, looking for all the world like a man in a painting before his lady. “When? Today?”
I laughed. “We must post banns. Let us choose a day together. Christmas is coming. That would be a better time.”