It had taken the full force of Marian's considerable will to resist going right to the footbridge with Professor Hill when he ushered her off the Madison Park pavilion. It wasn't the first time she had danced the Shipoopi with him; he had shown her and the teens the new step in the gymnasium a few afternoons ago. But things had not been this heated between the two of them – Harold danced with her as if they were the only two people on the pavilion, his desire shamelessly on display before the crowd.

When the song ended and she sat on his knee, flushed and breathless from her exertions, Marian had turned to see Harold looking at her like he wanted to take her in his arms right then and there. And if he had done this, she wasn't sure she could have refused him, as much as she blushed to think of engaging in such impropriety.

Marian couldn't go to a secluded area with Professor Hill when she was in such a vulnerable state; she needed time to collect her muddled thoughts. "Professor Hill, I – " she protested as he pulled her along by the arm.

"Now, this is no place to talk," Harold chided. He stopped and looked at her. "You're not going to back down?"

"Oh no! No, I'll come, but" – her mind scrambled for an excuse – "I promised mother and Winthrop to have a plate of cream with them. You go along; I'll meet you there."

"Fifteen minutes," he said, giving her that look again; the one that made her feel weak at the knees.

"Fifteen minutes," Marian agreed breathlessly.

XXX

"What, back from the footbridge already?" Mrs. Paroo asked when she saw her daughter.

"I haven't gone yet; I told him I'd meet him in fifteen minutes," Marian said, her voice shaking slightly. "But I don't know if I will go, after all."

Mrs. Paroo motioned for Winthrop to go see Amaryllis, who had been eying him from across the pavilion. Once the boy had scampered off, she turned to Marian, who braced herself for an argument. "Now, Mama – "

But Mrs. Paroo gave her an understanding look. "I thought things might come to that."

Marian's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"A mother always knows, darling," Mrs. Paroo said fondly. Her expression grew nostalgic. "You know, your father had a wife before me."

"He did?" Marian said curiously. "Why didn't you ever tell me this?"

"The subject never came up," Mrs. Paroo replied with a shrug.

"Why are you telling me now, then?" she asked, exasperated.

"Because I know what love can do to a man. Your father loved his first wife dearly, and when she died so young, he swore he'd never marry again. But then he met me – and the rest was history, as they might say in one of your li'berry books."

Marian gaped at her mother. "I think my situation is just a little different."

"Are you saying I don't recognize a man in love with my daughter when I see one?" Mrs. Paroo challenged. "I've had Professor Hill pegged since the day he stopped by the house to sign Winthrop up for the band. Goodness knows he's the only man who's ever had the spunk to keep after you!"

"Well…" Marian said skeptically, not knowing where to begin. How could she explain to her mother that a traveling salesman didn't always have love on his mind when he pursued a young woman?

But Mrs. Paroo was shrewder than Marian had allowed. "Harold Hill is in love with you, me girl – whether he knows it or not. Now your fifteen minutes is up. You'd better get going, before you miss your chance!"

XXX

So Marian went to the footbridge. Even though she was still apprehensive about what might happen if she allowed herself to be alone with Harold, she knew if she didn't see this through, she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

Marian had nearly reached her destination when she glimpsed him waving a stick like a conductor's baton. He looked so endearing that she halted, not wanting to spoil this charming tableau. As Marian watched Harold mime leading a band, her heart glowed with pride. She had made the right decision.

But then, with an uncharacteristically glum look on his face, Professor Hill broke the stick in half and tossed it into the creek. Marian longed to comfort him, but she didn't want to embarrass him by revealing what she had seen. As she tried to think how best to announce her presence, Harold turned and caught sight of her.

"Miss Marian – you're late!" he teased, wagging a finger at her.

With a smile, she joined him on the footbridge. "You said fifteen minutes."

"No, I didn't mean that kind of late. I meant – well, I'd say about twenty-six years late. It took you all this time to get to the footbridge with a fellow," he marveled.

"If you want to know the truth, it was almost longer," she admitted.

"Oh?" he stammered, sounding as if his voice had caught in his throat.

"Halfway here, I nearly turned back." Too embarrassed to look at Harold, she focused her gaze on the footbridge railing. "I suppose I'm not the first person to discover a girl doesn't think too clearly when under the spell of your salesmanship."

"Oh, now Miss Marian, you surely don't think I've been trying to sell you anything?" he asked with a voice full of the utmost sincerity.

To the very last moment, Harold Hill was the consummate salesman. But that no longer mattered – she had seen the generous heart beneath his gilded exterior. After what he had done for River City, and for her, he deserved to know the truth.

"Oh no!" Marian said earnestly. "You've given me something. That's why I had to come."

Harold's suave salesman smile faded, and he looked at her with a perplexed expression. "I don't recall giving you – "

Marian beamed at him. "Oh yes, something beautiful. That's why I came. And I'm so glad. Oh – please don't be afraid I expect too much more," she said when he balked. "One can't expect a traveling salesman to stay put. I know there have been many ports of call, and there'll be many more. Still, I can be grateful for what you've left behind, for me."

Professor Hill looked genuinely alarmed. "Marian – "

Placing her hand gently over his mouth, she confessed everything.

There were bells on the hill, but I never heard them ringing
No, I never heard them at all – till there was you
There were birds in the sky, but I never saw them winging
No, I never saw them at all – till there was you
And there was music, and there were wonderful roses, they tell me
In sweet fragrant meadows of dawn and dew
There was love, all around, but I never heard it singing
No, I never heard it all – till there was you

Marian saw something stir in Harold's eyes – something true. As he regarded her from the other end of the footbridge, she recognized in his gaze the same love she felt radiating from her own expression. Her mother had been right. And even though there could be no future for them, it was enough to know that Harold's feelings for her went deeper than superficial desire.

So Marian finally surrendered, going to him as eagerly as he came to her. They met in the middle of the footbridge, Harold catching her in a warm embrace. He pulled back a little and sought Marian's eyes with his. For a brief, wonderful moment, they just looked at each other, before joining their lips together in an intensely passionate kiss.

For the first time in her life, Marian tasted pure delight. Being with Harold was just as wonderful as she had imagined. No, it was even better: She had never dreamed he would look at her with such adoration, or that she could feel so safe in his arms. Harold was indeed the gentleman she had always suspected him to be – not once did his hands stray anywhere untoward. He simply held her like he never wanted to let her go. And she never wanted him to – Marian clung as tightly to Harold as he did to her.

But all too soon, he ended their embrace. "Marian," Professor Hill began, taking her hands in his, "there are a lot of things that you don't know about me – "

XXX

A/N – I included the extra scene with Mrs. Paroo because I always wondered what she was thinking, encouraging her daughter to go after a traveling salesman with the "gift of the Blarney." This seemed like a good place to explore that, and it also served to illustrate how Marian almost turned back from meeting Harold at the footbridge.