reply, reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed for the damp of the alleyway. Regardless, Laurel needed to start the day. She pushed back the covers, hurrying to bathe and dress. Hopefully, she could enjoy the second day of the Cotton Festival without seeing anyone disagreeable .
Christopher waited for her on the courthouse lawn. He sat beneath the shade of a large tree, watching a group of children play tug-of-war. It was nearly time for luncheon, and Miss Graham had still not appeared for the festivities. He was becoming concerned that the events of the previous night had weighed too heavily on her conscience. It would be up to him to set the tone of their future friendship.
He saw her walking across the grass with Deirdre and Mrs. Jones, looking lovely in her white lawn blouse and pink gingham skirt. Instead of rushing to her then, like he wanted to do, Christopher stayed where he was, letting their eyes meet casually. Laurel’s bright features faded when she saw him, but he smiled at her. It allowed her time to realize that he harbored no ill will towards her, and to judge her own feelings before he approached her.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said. “I thought you might like to have luncheon with me at the hotel.”
Laurel looked as if she was about to refuse him.
Christopher glanced quickly at her shocked companions. “And I would be honored if you ladies would join us.”
Deirdre and her mother flushed with excitement. Lunch at the hotel with His Lordship! It was very exciting for them, so Laurel could not decline the invitation – for their sake.
The foursome walked down the street to the hotel, taking a table by the rose trellis. The ladies all ordered fried chicken without any hesitation, and Christopher was compelled to do the same. It was the only southern staple that he had not tried, believing that it was undignified to eat with one’s fingers. When he picked up a piece and brought it to his mouth, he went against everything his mother ever taught him.
Laurel could not help but laugh at him and how ridiculous he looked. She enjoyed seeing him step out of his comfort zone, and had made it her personal quest to discomfit him as often – and as good-naturedly – as possible.
Mrs. Jones smiled across the table. “I’ll bet you’re bored with our simple foods.”
“Not at all. Actually I think I am quite spoiled. English food may be elaborate, but it isn’t always the most…” He searched for the right word to describe it. “…Agreeable.”
Laurel was proud of the way Christopher went out of his way to make Deirdre and her mother comfortable and include them in the conversation. However bad his behavior was to her the night before, he was truly a gentleman that afternoon.
Christopher and Laurel walked to the church down the street from the hotel, while Deirdre and Mrs. Jones went to find the rest of their family. Laurel was a little nervous about attending the ice cream social, but she did not want to let him know. Christopher incorrectly interpreted her strange behavior as still having something to do with him.
“Miss Graham, I think we should talk about last night.”
“Please, let’s not,” she begged. “I’d like to forget that it ever happened.”
He gave her a half-hearted smile. “So would I. It was a misstep between us.”
“That’s right! And we’ll never mention – or even think about it again.”
Christopher agreed verbally, but in his mind, he couldn’t help but disagree. He had thought about their ‘misstep’ for a long time afterward. Even in her presence, he kept seeing her as he saw her that night – beautiful, seductive, and dying to be held by him. He also recalled the way he had been desperate to hold her. It had been so long since he had felt that need, and in a way, it frightened him.
Laurel brought over two bowls of peach ice cream, fresh from the churn. One she handed to Christopher, and the other she kept for herself as she eased down