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A lice didn’t come to their meeting spot that Saturday, neither did she meet him on Farnham road for the walk back. To Isaac’s surprise, she didn’t make an appearance the next weekend either.

He had so many questions for her. Why, when he offered Miss Kilchrest another bouquet, one he thought was nice, didn’t she seem any more enthusiastic than she’d been with the first one?

Had Miss Kilchrest’s collection of admirers diminished or was he imagining it?

Why did Mr. and Mrs. Kilchrest seem more inviting of late?

More important than any of the other questions, he wanted to know where Alice had gone, why she didn’t walk with him any more.

Late November gave way to earliest December, and still he didn’t see Alice. She had to be avoiding him. They walked the same road twice a week. She knew exactly what time of day he’d be on that road. To not cross paths even once in weeks couldn’t be a coincidence.

She was clearly mad at him, though over what he couldn’t say. They’d never had an argument in the months they’d known each other. They didn’t always agree on everything, but those little disagreements never ended in anything other than smiles and continued friendship.

He hated that she had disappeared so entirely.

Walking down the streets of Cavan on the way to the Kilchrest home, Isaac stopped in his tracks.

In the window of a small shop amongst a display of trinkets and jewelry and such sat a delicate lady’s pin watch.

Flowers of inlaid gold stood in contrast to the deep-blue of the perfectly circular case.

It hung on a bow-shaped pin leafed in matching gold.

Alice would love this. And, he thought with a smile, she’d not need to ask him for the time every weekend. He didn’t know if Alice could read a watch, but he’d happily teach her how, especially if it meant seeing her again.

He slipped inside the shop and inquired after the price. ’Twas steep, more than he’d ever spent on a gift before. He made a comfortable living but wasn’t rich by any means. The watch would set him back quite a bit.

I’d not have enough left to give Miss Kilchrest a Christmas gift. Not having a holiday offering for the lady he’d spent months courting made no sense whatsoever. And yet he wavered. Alice would love the watch. He knew she would.

He left the shop and the watch behind, but the question of Christmas gifts remained in his mind all the way to the Kilchrest’s home.

Odd that he knew precisely the present that would bring a smile to Alice’s face, but couldn’t begin to guess what Miss Kilchrest would like.

He’d given her flowers on a few occasions, but the offering didn’t make her gleeful by any means.

He simply hadn’t stumbled upon what she loved.

A stern-faced servant opened the Kilchrest’s door. Isaac was not terribly accustomed to calling at a home where the owners didn’t answer their own door.

“I’m Isaac Dancy. The Kilchrests invited me to call.” He felt he ought to explain why he’d come when, if truth be told, his position in the world was far more equal to that of the housekeeper than the master of the house.

He was ushered inside. Isaac had never been to the Kilchrest’s home. He glanced about the entryway, with its fine furnishings and paintings and fresh-cut flowers. A great many flowers, in fact. Twas no wonder Miss Kilchrest hadn’t been impressed with his offerings. She had no need of more flowers.

As he followed the housekeeper into the formal parlor, Isaac began to suspect Miss Kilchrest was not in need of much of anything.

The room was elegant, fancy even. His own home, in comparison, would seem run-down and plain to the point of being ugly.

But that was one of the reasons he’d first began pursuing Miss Kilchrest. He had worked very hard for many years to make a success of his farm, despite the lingering shadow of The Hunger still clinging to the land.

He wanted that to be reflected in his home.

He wanted his neighbors to receive a warm welcome there.

Who could do that better than a lady who’d been raised in refinement, learning from the cradle how to be sociable and genteel? The idea was a good one. He’d certainly spent enough months thinking on it.

Yet, standing in the pristine parlor, his hat in his hands, Isaac felt very out of place. Elegance, he was discovering, was not always welcoming. Surely the version of refinement Miss Kilchrest would bring to his more modest home would be a bit less overwhelming.

The object of his matrimonial ambitions stepped inside a moment later. She wore the same smile she always did, content and calm.

“Welcome, Isaac.” She motioned him to a white settee.

He brushed at his trousers, not entirely certain they didn’t yet bear dust from the road. White was not the most practical color for furnishings.

Mr. Kilchrest came inside and crossed to where he still stood.

“I hear you took in a good profit on your crop this year,” Mr. Kilchrest said.

Isaac nodded. Prices had been good.

“Good, good.” Mr. Kilchrest took up a seat nearby and opened a newspaper. That was to be the end of their conversation it seemed.

Isaac didn’t know if that was normal for Mr. Kilchrest or if he simply didn’t have anything to say to him.

He knew many of Miss Kilchrest’s suitors had been invited to call on her family over the months, but he’d never been among their number.

Where were the others? He didn’t think the invitations were generally kept to one man at a time.

“Is there to be no one else?” he asked.

Miss Kilchrest’s smile tightened a bit. “Not this time.”

None of the others could come? Or none of the others would come? He didn’t know where the uncharitable thought came from. He dismissed it immediately.

Isaac sat on the edge of the settee, still clutching his hat. A person was afraid to breathe in a room like that one. Everything looked breakable and clean as new. If any of the other men felt half as uncomfortable as he did in that moment, ’twas little wonder they weren’t coming around any longer.

He attempted to match Miss Kilchrest’s small talk but never had been one for conversations that felt pointless.

She spoke of fashions and the weather and stories she’d heard of people Isaac didn’t know.

He tried to discuss improvements to his land or difficulties he had about his home, but she only put on that everyday smile of hers and nodded without comment.

They’d not had enough opportunities to become acquainted. Isaac didn’t think he’d do a very good job of it in her house. He simply couldn’t feel at ease there.

Though he’d only been in the Kilchrest’s home a quarter of an hour, Isaac was ready to be on his way. But he hadn’t spent much time with Miss Kilchrest over the months he'd been courting her. He’d meant to further their connection, to make his case, to move closer to his goal of winning her regard.

“I’d be honored if I could walk ya home from church tomorrow,” he said. An outdoor conversation would be far more enjoyable.

“Of course.” Of course I can? Or ‘of course’ I’m honored?

He stood and inched his way toward the door. “I’ll wait for ya outside the church, then.”

She only smiled. He’d simply have to wait and see what happened the next morning.

He was well on his way in a moment’s time. The finer houses gave way to smaller, plainer ones. For the first time all evening, Isaac felt like he could breathe.

His feet carried him, not to his friend’s house where he’d be spending the night, but down the street where Alice’s grandparent’s lived.

He wouldn’t actually call on her. Alice had made quite plain that she didn’t wish to see him.

But he’d lost his footing at the Kilchrest home.

He felt turned around and needed something familiar.

The sounds of laughter and music met him as he walked. He followed it to the side garden of a house two or three doors removed from where Alice spent her weekends. He wandered over to the low stone wall.

Quite a few people had gathered about, talking and playing music. There was chatting and dancing. Isaac smiled to see it. He’d attended many such gatherings as a child growing up in the countryside. His own neighbors gathered on occasion for traditional music and friendly chatter.

Just as he made to find the gate so he might ask to join them, his eyes fell on an achingly familiar face.

Alice, her mouth turned up in a grin as broad as any he’d seen her wear, was dancing about the grassy area with the same man Isaac had seen her with several weeks earlier.

Billy, she’d said his name was, and a dear friend.

A dear friend.

A dear friend she was laughing with and dancing with. A dear friend she was smiling at. Isaac hadn’t had her laughter nor her smile in weeks. He’d not ever danced with her.

Isaac spun about on the instant. The party held little appeal to him any longer. He’d wondered at Alice’s absence, worried he’d offended her. All that time she’d simply found another whose company she preferred to his.

His steps echoed hard and fast around him as he trudged back to his friend’s home. In all the months he’d watched Miss Kilchrest pay particular attention to any number of her suitors and not to him he hadn’t felt the deep, crushing disappointment he did in that moment.