Free Love in Three-Quarter Time by Dina Sleiman Page A

at him. “I spent the last few years…much of my childhood…I only suppressed it for…” Each of the lies died upon her lips as she gazed into his eyes. In the moonlight they shimmered like deep blue pools. She dared not let her mind wander to the last time she’d gazed upon him under the moon. “Patience thought your mother would hire me if she thought me British.”
    Constance turned down her head in shame. Frog croaks sounded from the fishing pond to their left. He started to shake beside her. How angry was he? She went to tug away. But then a hearty belly laugh exploded from the man. She pulled apart from him, this time in disbelief, and watched as he tossed back his head. He buried his fingers in his gleaming hair. Then his head fell forward as he continued to laugh and slapped his knee.
    Finally, he stood straight and wiped tears from his eyes. “That is so true! And it worked, so who am I to naysay you? It shall remain our secret, my clever girl, but don’t blame me if I smirk when you use it. You sound like a shepherdess one moment and abandon it entirely the next. You’d think Mother would hear it. But then again, Mother has a tendency to hear what she wishes.” He dissolved into laughter again.
    Constance’s ears burned. She had so tried to maintain the correct intonations, but had been caught off guard again and again over dinner. “I’m glad you find such amusement in my discomfort.”
    â€œIt’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.” They’d reached the gate now, and the sun had sunken beneath the horizon, leaving streaks of orange, red, and purple in its wake. Robbie turned her around.
    â€œSo we agree that you shan’t tell your mother about my questionable British heritage? I actually did spend a summer there, you know.”
    â€œAye, we ’ave an agreement. I mun’t tell my mother.” He flattened his own vowels in imitation of her accent, then pulled her hand back to his arm. His demeanor softened. “How is Grammy, by the way?”
    He remembered. Tears pricked Constance’s eyes. She cleared her throat. “Well enough, I suppose. A bit wheezy in the winter. Matters…” How much should she tell him? Oh but it felt good to have a listening ear for once. “Matters haven’t been easy since we lost the plantation. We’ve found some work in Richmond, but not nearly enough.”
    He patted her hand, with sympathy this time. “My apologies. I was tired when I came in today, and shocked to see you. I’m afraid I let some anger build toward you after that last big fight. I should have thought to ask about your family. Forgive me.”
    As if he cared. If he had cared he would have married her then, taken them away from it all. He could have. Nothing stood in his way. But no, he deserted her and all her family. Nice as it might feel to cling to his rippling arm, it felt even better to cling to the comfortable shield of her anger and protect her heart as she had planned.
    She bristled and stood straighter. The words slipped out before she could stop them. “As if you care.” She hadn’t meant to speak them aloud. Gingersnap would have said something peevish like that. She attempted to settle her temper but met with only marginal success. “It hardly matters. This job will help. I don’t need your pity, although after all these years a bit of support would be nice.”
    Tension filled his arm. “You couldn’t expect…never mind. I’ll confirm your abundant amazingness, your majesty, demonstrate a few dances, and be on my way. I won’t trouble you much longer.”
    The temptation to draw her hand from his arm and stomp her foot, preferably on his toe, struck hard. But instead she took deep breaths and counted to ten as she matched her strides to his.
    You’ve changed, Constance
, she told herself. She was no longer a hotheaded flirt. But