Perfect? Lord, but it was. It was perfection in a dance, but it was only perfect because of her, because love for her was going to burst his heart, because for the first time in a very long time, there was hope in his life.

She was his hope.

“Yes,” he murmured, his hand gripping at her waist, his thumb absently grazing. “Yes, it surely must.”

Elinor exhaled, seeming to shiver unsteadily as she did so, and he pulled her closer, mesmerized by the change he was witnessing in her fair eyes.

“Hugh…” she whispered, her lips barely moving.

They moved on a particularly large swell of music, and he felt his heart rise and fall with it. “Elinor.”

Her lashes fluttered, and he knew he was lost. They were. Together.

He was not alone in this. He couldn’t be. This moment was for both of them, the pair they had made, and the dance they were in.

No longer separate individuals, but moving as one.

Together.

The music stopped suddenly, and he blinked at the abrupt change, as if the moment was broken when the music stopped. As if only the music held that magic.

They stopped moving, and he looked into her eyes with as much regret as he could muster while still under the influence of so much joy. He found it reflected back, and with it, some of the magic.

All was not lost, then.

He smiled with promise, and Elinor looked away, tucking an invisible strand of hair behind her ear.

Her father stood by the musicians, his hands raised. “My friends, my friends, we have a most welcome surprise this year. Some rather pleasant locals have come and offered to sing us some songs, which I find to be most appropriate. So, if you will make some space for them, we will let our entertainment commence.”

The guests moved, and Hugh and Elinor moved with them, shifting to one side of the room as simply, but warmly clad locals filed in, their cheeks bright with the cold.

Elizabeth hurried over to Elinor, her energy high. “Isn’t this marvelous? They’ve never come before!”

Elinor released Hugh’s arm and turned to her sister, the two of them whispering and giggling about something or other.

Hugh couldn’t do so, as he suddenly felt the chill that these locals must have felt making their way from the village up to Deilingh. All because she had let him go. He cleared his throat, swallowing as he began a brief conversation he wouldn’t remember with whomever was standing beside him.

A bell held by one of the villagers pealed once, which effectively silenced the gathering, then rang once more in the same almost haunting manner.