tapered fingers selecting meats and cheese with purpose.
‘I was thinking you might like to ride this afternoon since the weather turned out to be nice,’ Greer offered. ‘I noticed both you and your father brought horses.’
It would be perfect. The afternoon was far too fair to be cooped up in the carriage. It was the ideal conversational offering as well.
They spent lunch talking about riding and horses, something she didn’t know half as well as she knew billiards. She liked listening to Greer talk about his stallion, Rufus, and other horses he’d owned. He had a face that came alive when he spoke, and an easy manner that was fully engaged now. She’d caught glimpses of it before; when they’d played billiards and this morning in the carriage, but always somewhat tempered by the side of him that never forgot he was an officer and a viscount’s son.
This afternoon, sitting under the oak, he was quite simply himself. And she had been quite simply herself, not Allen Lockhart’s daughter, not always planning the next calculated move. It was nice to forget and she did forget right up until the flags of the fair came into view and it was time to remember what they were there for.
‘Should we find your father?’ Greer asked, looking for a place to leave the horses until the carriage and servants caught up to them.
Mercedes smiled and dismounted. ‘I think we’ll let him find us. Meanwhile, you and I shall enjoy the fair.’
This was pure recklessness, Mercedes privately acknowledged as they tethered the horses on the outskirts of the fairground. She was inviting all sorts of trouble being alone with the Captain. Not the usual kind of trouble. She was too old to need a chaperon and the Captain wasn’t likely to take advantage of her. Her danger lay in mixing business with pleasure. She was on this trip to groom him, introduce him to the world of professional billiards. She was not here to picnic under trees, or walk fairgrounds, or to play parlour games in coaches with him.
Those all led to perilous places where business became confused with emotions. But she was not ready to let go of the afternoon. That would happen soon enough. Her father would have plans for the evening that would demand it. But not yet. For now, the afternoon was still hers.
They browsed at the booths, smelling milled soaps from France and laughing when a few of the little cakes were reminiscent of cloying old ladies. They admired the bolts of fabric at the cloth merchant’s, the vendor mistaking her for Greer’s wife as he tried to convince her to buy some chintz for recovering seat cushions in her sitting room.
She had blushed furiously over the mistake, but seen no way to rectify it. Greer had politely steered them on to the next booth, taking the remark in his stride. The booth contained various blades and he soon became engrossed with the owner in a discussion of blades and hilts. Mercedes moved on to a display of ribbons. She’d been debating the merits of the green or the blue ribbon with the vendor, a woman of middle years, when Greer stepped up behind her. ‘She’ll take them both,’ he said with a laugh, passing over the shillings. ‘They’re too pretty to choose just one.’
‘You have a good husband, ma’am.’ The woman smiled, pocketing Greer’s coins with a wink in his direction. ‘Knows how to spoil his wife properly. You’ll have a long marriage, I think.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Mercedes hissed once they’d moved away from the booth.
‘Why not?’ Greer teased. ‘Don’t you like people thinking we’re together? Am I too ugly for you?’
She shook her head with a laugh. It was impossible to stay angry with him. ‘You know you’re not. That woman was rather disappointed you were so devoted to your “wife.”’
‘Aye, she was likely hoping I might be devoted to her later this evening. But alas, my heart is claimed elsewhere.’
‘Stop it,’ Mercedes insisted with little vigour. ‘You’re being ridiculous.’ But she was laughing too.
They’d reached the perimeter of the fairground. Their horses weren’t far off and the crowd had thinned, leaving them alone. Greer took out the blue ribbon from his coat pocket. ‘Will you permit me?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. He moved behind her, but instead of putting the ribbon in her hair, he slid it about her neck and when she looked down, a tiny silver charm in the shape of a star dangled from the ribbon. She recognised it immediately. She’d stared at it overlong at the jeweller’s booth. It had been of surprisingly good worksmanship and Greer had noticed. It had not been cheap either.
‘You shouldn’t have,’ Mercedes began quietly, settling her hair.
‘Shouldn’t have what? Shouldn’t have commemorated this glorious day?’ Greer argued in equally soft tones. He turned her to face him. ‘I haven’t had many nice days like this for a while. As you can imagine, there aren’t picnics and fairs in the military. And for once, I don’t have anything pressing to worry about. There’s no one shooting at me, there are no worms in my food. Life has definitely improved since I’ve met you.’
She felt guilty. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t worth it, that she’d been brought along to tame him, to turn him into something that could make her father money. But she let him have the moment. He’d been a soldier, he’d faced death and delivered it too. He worried for his family and over their finances, and finally he’d had a day where there was fair weather overhead, money in his pocket that bills couldn’t claim, and a pretty woman by his side. She could not bring herself to steal that from him. Taking that from him meant taking that from her, too, and she couldn’t do it.
Mercedes gave up the fight and said simply, ‘Thank you, Greer.’ Her hand closed over the charm where it rested against her skin. She would treasure it always, as a reminder of the day a gentleman had treated her like a lady. She stepped closer, her head tilted up in encouragement. Perhaps he’d like to seal the day with a kiss. And he might have if he’d got the chance.
‘There you two are!’
Her father approached, his spirits high. Mercedes stepped back, putting more space between herself and Greer. If her father was in a good mood, things must have gone well in town. ‘We thought you’d find us when you were ready.’ Mercedes offered as an explanation for their truancy.
‘You thought right, my smart girl.’ He chucked her under the chin playfully. ‘I’ve got rooms at the Millstream Inn, but the billiards table is at the Golden Rooster.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Two inns! Not bad for a sleepy little place. We’ll have some fun tonight. Everyone hereabouts is in town with money to spend after a long winter. Are you ready to play, Captain?’
Her father inserted himself between the two of them as they walked back towards town, horses in tow. Behind her father’s back, Greer caught her eye and gave her a grin. Mercedes smiled, swallowing her disappointment. The afternoon was officially over.
Bosham was a pretty fishing village at the east end of Chichester Harbour. A Saxon stone church sat neatly on the High Street not far from their rooms at the Millstream Inn, and Greer would have liked time to tour the town with Mercedes. She’d been a game sightseer at the fair and he would have enjoyed exploring the town’s countless legends about King Harold and Canute with her.
There would be no time for such an indulgence.
