((A/N: First of all, I'd like to apologize for the snail's pace at which this is being written... Sorry! Second, I'd like to thank the people who went out of their way to review. They mean a lot to me, and, if you're reading this story and like it, please, please just write a review! It can even be just 3 words or less, but people letting me know they enjoy my work is my bread and butter. Also, there is a passage or two taken directly from the book, so I may want to label that "artistic license" now rather than face accusations of laziness later. So, thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy this chapter!))
When I got back, I mostly avoided Fezziwig when he wasn't with the other boys. The memory of his last words to me was embarrassing enough, and I didn't want any verbal fuel to be added to the proverbial fire.
The work was easy enough, but then it always was. Preparing a party was easy when the three of us were set on it. We swirled around the place like tornados, cleaning, rearranging, adding finishing touches, and all that. In fact, I think we may have spent more time looking at it to see if it was perfect than actually working on it. And perfect it was. Dick declared it the greatest moment of his life.
Bangers and Mash arrived as we got to work on the food. Three kegs of ale was deemed not enough, so I was sent to buy a few more. By the time I got back, the boys had tied a red ribbon across the door, so I had to roll the barrels in instead of simply carrying them. I could only carry one at a time, so it took three trips.
"What's the ribbon for?" I asked Eb, who was slicing up roast beef with the air of an artist.
"Oh, that was Constance's idea," said Eb, shrugging. Constance was Fezziwig's second daughter. "Once the party's started, Fezziwig's going to cut it with the shears, so people can get in without bending over backwards or ducking."
"Yeah, well, you could have waited until I'd gotten back to put it up," I said, but I grinned to show I was joking.
"I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me for inconveniencing you mildly?"
"If I can forgive you for running over my foot with the wagon, I suppose this is nothing."
Eb winced. "Hey, that was five years ago!" he said, in indignation. "Besides, I think I got my dues."
We were interrupted by a cry of pain from the door. We looked over to see Dick brandishing a poker and glaring out the door, which was open.
"And stay out until we're ready!" he yelled. Eb and I applauded. Dick bowed.
"Somebody tried to get in before the party started," he said, shrugging.
Eb burst out laughing, but I was already gone, to hang the mistletoe.
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It was time.
Fezziwig came in from the kitchen with a large pair of shears. Smiling, he simply cut the ribbon as slowly as he could.
As the final strand slowly twisted free, the band broke into Greensleeves. There was quite a mob outside the door by now, and all of them poured in, happy to be out of the cold and snow. From the side door, which was reserved for special guests, came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young followers, whose hearts they broke. When looking at them, I felt a twinge of envy. Talking to girls isn't my strong suit. In came all the staff, and all our friends and family. In came several important people who we'd invited as a business maneuver, but they were the opposite of stuffy and boring now, it was as though they were different people. Thus, the great dance began.
Belle and Eb immediately began dancing, and the blissful looks on their faces would have wrung poetry from a stone. Dick slipped away, no doubt to break yet another woman's heart. Chastity, the youngest of the three Miss Fezziwigs, was too slow in vanishing into the crowd and reluctantly began dancing with one of her admirers, who looked starstruck at his luck. But how could anyone remain reluctant for long? Dance was a mystical experience, and something to be enjoyed no matter whose partner it was. Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig were the embodiment of the enjoyment of dance, seeming everywhere at once, dancing twice as fast as the music suggested, and the cause of much good-hearted laughter.
If, though, you possessed no romantic soul, there was an object of greater interest- the refreshment tables. Already, they gathered a crowd. I steered away from them, remaining on the dance floor, hoping to stare at Prudence's blinding beauty from almost halfway across the room. The band suddenly stopped and the three daughters suddenly were all together, standing at the front of the floor, towards those watching.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" All of them yelled in unison, as was tradition, "Please take partners for the Jolly Dog Polka!"
Smiling radiantly, they twirled into the gathering crowd, leaving their admirers with empty air. My mood somewhat returned, I listened to the band, which had struck up "Star of the County Down".
"Pardon me, sir, would you like to dance?"
I turned to see a girl who I didn't recognize. Her black hair was a bit longer than shoulder-length and her eyes, like her dress, were a lovely shade of green.
"I apologize, but I must decline. I do not find myself in a dancing mood at this minute," I said, trying to be frank. She was a pretty girl, but I had no interest in dancing if my partner wasn't Prudence.
She laughed. "Oh, come now," she said. "You are on the dance floor! How can you have no appetite for a dance or two?"
"When a man gorges himself, he may find himself unable to consume a rare delicacy that he might espy in a few hour's time," said a voice behind me. "I, however, I'm a glutton, and my appetite for dancing is insatiable."
In the span of a few seconds, the girl was in Dick's arms and they were dancing as smoothly as if they had been together from the start of the song. They turned in a half-circle and Dick's eyes met mine. He winked and jerked his head, obviously telling me to go somewhere quickly.
I cursed inwardly. How many people knew about Prudence anyway? The band had begun "The Congress of Vienna", a universal favorite.
Chastity had been caught again, and her expression, as her name suggested, was of polite disinterest. Constance was smiling and talking to one of the businessmen, who was laughing and looking most undignified. The third sister, though, was nowhere to be found.
I began weaving my way through waltzing couples, trying to get to the side of the dance floor. Dick had nobly sacrificed himself to aid me, and I would be helpless if another girl tried to deter me. On a hunch, I glanced over at Dick. His feet were moving almost as fast as old man Fezziwig's himself and as I watched, he spun the girl twice, then switched to open position. Perhaps "sacrificed" was the wrong word.
I saw an opening in the mass of people. I began to walk briskly towards it when somebody hit me from behind, pitching me forward and almost forcing me to hit an old couple wearing a pair of big smiles. I would have, except that the person who had run into me grabbed and steadied me.
"Don't talk," whispered the person, and I could tell from her voice that she was female. "Just dance. And try to look like you're enjoying it, please."
I turned, set my hands in traditional victorian waltz position, and started the dance without thinking. Then I looked at her and almost tripped over my own feet.
Prudence Fezziwig was dancing with me, a carefree smile on her lovely lips, and I had no idea what was going on.