‘She’s his daughter,’ Simpson stated, not a few moments from the Sallows’ door. ‘If that’s what you’re daydreaming about.’
Samuel chuckled in response. ‘Sometimes I think you can read my mind.’
‘With that look on your face,’ the old man returned, brushing his whiskers and blowing a puff of smoke to the breeze, ‘I don’t need to.’
Samuel grinned at nothing and they continued on their bumpy way.
Samuel looked forward to the next day’s delivery. When Mr Sallow opened the door, Samuel eagerly stepped past with the single, small jar in his hands, hoping to spy the daughter once again. He peered into the sitting room, but was disappointed to find it deserted. Samuel’s heart leapt, however, when he found her waiting in the kitchen.
‘You must be Samuel,’ she said, smiling. ‘I am Leila. Leila Sallow. I’m sorry we weren’t introduced yesterday.’
‘Nice to meet you, Leila,’ Samuel returned with a smile that he could not contain. After a moment’s awkward silence, he realised he was staring like a fool. ‘Did you enjoy the milk?’ he asked quickly-too quickly.
‘Oh, I didn’t get to try it. Daddy sent it away it before I could,’ she answered, smiling and rocking on her heels and toes. ‘Are you going to the village dance next week?’ she asked.
‘I hadn’t heard of it,’ Samuel replied, ‘but I would certainly like to go-if you are, that is.’
‘I am,’ she smiled. ‘I shall look forward to seeing you there.’
‘Perhaps, I’ll see you tomorrow?’
‘Perhaps,’ she responded. There was an energy in the air, an excitement that had his skin covered in goose- bumps and his head feeling light-almost the same as when he summoned his magic, but strange and wonderful. Magicians were not supposed to be able to feel strongly towards women, but right now, he certainly felt something he could not describe.
‘Samuel!’ Simpson called loudly from outside.
Samuel realised he was dawdling. ‘Good day,’ he said to the girl and hurried down the hall.
Simpson was waiting on the wagon and, as soon as Samuel had vaulted up beside him, they turned for home.
‘Mr Sallow says he wants to have all our milk,’ Simpson explained. ‘He says he’ll pay almost twice what I ask now so he can send it all down to Gilgarry.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ Samuel said. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Of course, but I’m wondering what will happen when you leave and the milk goes back to the way it was. If I let all my customers go now so I can meet Mr Sallow’s order, I may never get them back.’
‘I can promise you, I won’t be leaving just yet. The longer I stay in Lenham, the more interesting things I find. With all the money you make from Mr Sallow in the meantime, you’ll be able to afford to hire some help on the farm once I’m gone and we can build that barn you’ve always wanted.’
Simpson thought for a time. ‘Aye,’ he said. ‘That sounds fine. You’ve got a sensible head on your shoulders after all, lad. Perhaps you will make a decent merchant one day yet.’
‘I hope not,’ Samuel responded.
Simpson seemed very happy and whistled a tune for the trip home. It was the very tune Samuel had taught him.
The new arrangement began several days later. To Samuel’s displeasure, a wagon arrived on their doorstep bound directly for Gilgarry, and so Samuel did not get to see Leila at all. She had been waiting to talk with him on the last few mornings, but her father had begun noticing the fact and had kept Samuel moving along. When he enquired about the dance, Mrs Down said the village had one every month or so, so that everyone could kick up their heels and lose their cares once in a while. They rarely went themselves, being old and having no children, and Mrs Down declared herself a terrible fool for not thinking to tell Samuel of it before.
The night of the dance came and Mrs Down presented Samuel with a fine new set of clothes she had made in the local style-clothes that were not worn and stained from his farm work. His comfortable mage’s boots finished the look finely once he had polished them up. There was no mirror, but Simpson and Mrs Down both said he looked very handsome and so he had to be content with that. Samuel quickly saddled Jess and rode for the village with little else on his mind but seeing Leila.
The village square was decorated with coloured ribbons and lanterns and an enthusiastic tune was being played by a vigorous quartet of musicians. Samuel tied Jess a short distance away beside some other horses and approached the joyful gathering. Men and women were dancing arm in arm before the assortment of foot-tapping musicians. Laughter and merriment prevailed.
‘Hello, Samuel.’ A grey-haired, old couple, arm in arm, said as they approached him. ‘We are Mr and Mrs Luke,’ the old man said. ‘We thought we’d introduce ourselves-we’ve been meaning to for a while. Where are you from, then?’
‘Stable Waterford,’ Samuel said, looking over them for any sign of Leila. ‘In Marlen. Although I have spent some time in the capital.’
‘Oh yes?’ said Mrs Luke. ‘I can’t imagine what the cities must be like. And you help Mr and Mrs Down on their farm?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful. Perhaps you could visit for tea one day and tell us all about yourself.’
‘Of course,’ Samuel declared, but then he spied Leila, momentarily visible between dancing bodies. ‘Excuse me, please. I see a young lady I’m hoping to talk with.’
‘Of course, Samuel,’ said Mr Luke through his thick, white beard. ‘Off you go and have some fun.’
Leila saw Samuel approaching and a smile lit her face. A young man was asking her something and she shook her head, brushing past him. Grabbing Samuel by the hand, she dragged the hesitant magician out to dance. At first, he was not quite sure what to do, but he quickly picked up the gist of the movements. Within moments, they were skipping and turning playfully amongst the other village folk.
‘You’re very light on your feet,’ Samuel said, noticing how neatly and gently she moved about.
‘Thank you,’ Leila smiled. ‘And I’m quite surprised you know this dance. I didn’t think anyone outside our village knew it.’
‘I don’t, really,’ Samuel declared, feeling the warmth of her waist in his hand, ‘but I pick things up quite quickly.’ It was not unlike moving between some of the summoning stances he still practised every evening.
They danced for a time and, as Samuel’s nervousness diminished, they moved a little nearer to each other with the start of each new melody. For some reason, he was constantly aware of her hand in his. He tried to relax a little and ignore the fact, but he would have had more luck ignoring his boots if they were on fire. They twirled and danced, laughing and talking all the while about anything and everything, before finally collapsing onto a bench for a much-needed rest. Samuel could not help but notice the scalding looks from many of the village’s young men.
‘How is it that you’re not yet spoken for?’ Samuel asked. ‘All the young men seem to be horrified that I’m dancing with you.’
‘My father has been very possessive of me since my mother died. None of the men around here is good enough for him. He’s hoping to find me a lord or noble of some kind to marry, but they are few and far between in these parts-and all of them are Imperials.’
‘Is there no one suitable for you?’
‘I don’t want to live by my father’s standards. He’s kept me locked up all these years, so I’ve never had time to even meet anyone, except when he bundles me up and takes me down to Gilgarry to display me like a prize cow. Then, all those pompous asses fawn all over me, I tell them what I think of them and then Father brings me home again and won’t talk to me for days. He says if I don’t choose a suitor soon I’ll end up an old maid.’
‘I wouldn’t say you are in danger of growing old anytime soon.’
‘Couples marry younger here than in the cities,’ she told him.
‘Aye,’ Samuel said. ‘So I’ve noticed.
She sighed and looked about the crowd as if searching for someone, before returning her attention to him.
