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142 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 1, 1980


Amelia, meeting the Dutchman’s sleepy gaze, had a sudden strange feeling, as though everything had changed; that nothing would ever be the same again; that there was no one else there, only herself and this giant of a man, still staring at her.
Gideon with his two dogs came into her view, and this time, carried away by some impulse she didn’t try to understand, she opened the casement and called good morning.
He stopped and looked up. ‘Good morning, Amelia. Put on some clothes and come down. A walk’ll do you good. You can have five minutes.’
She managed it somehow, bundled into slacks and a sweater and her quilted jacket on top. She cleaned her teeth, but there was no time for her hair or face; the latter was rosy with sleep and her head a dark tangled curtain as she raced downstairs to meet him.
His quiet: ‘Lord, what a lovely girl you are, Amelia,’ brought her up short. She had wanted to be with him, so much that she hadn’t cared what she looked like, and the sudden knowledge of that shocked her into a frozen silence. She stood in front of him, her face a stiff little mask of bewilderment and embarrassment.
He studied her slowly, his head on one side. ‘Oh, dear—why have you gone all frosty?’ he wanted to know, ‘just when I thought…well, never mind what I thought. You remind me of a winter’s frost waiting for a silver thaw, Amelia.’
‘A silver thaw? What’s that?’
‘Something only to be found in Oregon, I believe; after a frost when the thaw sets in, it turns to silver in the warmth of the sun. It is reputed to be beautiful, just as you are beautiful—only you haven’t found the right warmth to thaw you yet, have you, my dear?’
What she saw was Gideon at the other end of the room, standing head and shoulders above everyone else, talking to a pretty red-haired girl. At least, he had been talking to her, presumably, now he was staring at Amelia over everyone else’s head. She tried to smile, a meaningless social smile, but her mouth shook so that she turned her head away quickly.
She wondered instead what he would say if she told him that she had made a discovery; that it wasn’t Tom at all whom she loved but he, standing there smiling at her. ‘Across a crowded room,’ she thought a trifle wildly. She felt peculiar again; she had felt like that when she had met Gideon for the first time and she knew now, with all the clarity of hindsight, that she had fallen in love with him then and had never allowed herself to acknowledge it.
‘Presently. There’s a song—I’m strongly reminded of it—‘‘Some enchanted evening,’’ although the only line appropriate to us is the one ‘‘Across a crowded room’’.’
‘Oh, did you think of that? So did I.’
‘Now that’s interesting, Amelia. And why do you look so sad? You looked sad in church too, but perhaps you don’t know that.’
She wanted desperately to put out her hand and clutch his arm and explain why she was sad, and not because of Tom, who had suddenly become quite unimportant, but because she loved him so much and he didn’t care two straws for her.
‘I’m very happy,’ she said a shade too loudly. As the waiter went past she took another glass of champagne.
‘Happy? Oh yes, and I’m sure you will be—because you will make your own happiness. You’ll tend it with all the care of someone holding a last candle in the dark. You’ll learn to make do with second best; a great many men and women do, you know. Just a few know what real happiness is—to love someone so much that nothing else matters any more, only the two of you and the life you share.’ Gideon smiled faintly. ‘We could have been like that, you and I. You know that deep in your heart, don’t you, my darling? And do you know something else? If it would make you happy, I would give up all I have and live in a desert with you, or on top of a mountain. I’d pluck the moon from the sky and hang the stars round your beautiful neck. The world could be paradise.’ He sighed. ‘But most of us, as I said, make do with second best.’
Amelia drank in every word, her insides glowing with excitement. He loved her—he must, to talk to her like that. She had only to explain…
The next minute she knew that she never would. He laughed suddenly and the mockery in his laugh was so blatant that she winced. ‘What nonsense one talks at weddings! Come and meet Fiona; we came together—we’ve known each other for a long time.’