indecent proposals both from the men she travelled with and the customers she flirted with at the fairs. She usually found the best way to deal with them was a sweet smile, a swift knee to their nether regions and a quick escape.
She’d just summoned the sweet smile when Lord Whitemore’s eyes narrowed and he quickly stepped back.
‘Not like that,’ he clarified. ‘Goodness, what sort of man do you think I am?’
‘We have been acquainted for less than five minutes,’ Lina said. ‘I have no idea what sort of man you are, Lord Whitemore. Now, if you would excuse me, I have work to do.’
She moved quickly, darting away through the crowds without looking back until she was sure she must have lost him. The fair was getting busier as the morning turned into afternoon and it was easy to hide herself amongst the large groups of visitors.
‘You’re quick on your feet,’ a low voice came from close to her ear.
Lina tried to hide how she jumped as Lord Whitemore’s words tickled her neck.
‘All the better to get away from lecherous men,’ Lina said, turning to face the young gentleman.
‘I understand your reluctance to consider my proposal, but I’m in a bit of a sticky situation. I cannot lose this wager. My sister would see me settled with some sweet, banal wife before the year was out and my life would be miserable. And I do hate to be miserable.’
Despite her instinct to run as far away from this man as fast as possible, Lina felt a little intrigued. When she’d told his fortune, he’d been dismissive and bored, but even then she’d sensed an energy, a simmering vitality hidden underneath. A few minutes earlier she’d found herself watching him from a distance as he’d laughed and joked with his brother-in-law, wishing she knew exactly what it was that made his eyes sparkle and caused him to fling his head back and let out a raucous laugh. Now he was right here, in front of her, and she knew the safest thing would be to leave and not look back.
‘What was the wager?’
‘Come share a drink with me and I’ll explain everything.’
‘What was the wager?’ she repeated without moving.
Lina watched as Lord Whitemore appraised her before answering. She got the sense he wasn’t a man who people said no to, but she stood her ground, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
‘I made a comment about the conversational ability of today’s debutantes,’ Lord Whitemore said eventually. ‘And I said I could turn any young woman into an acceptable debutante within six weeks, no matter her background.’
‘And your brother-in-law challenged you to do just that?’
‘Exactly.’
‘With me?’
Lord Whitemore grimaced. ‘It wasn’t you specifically. It was the next woman of marriageable age to walk past.’
‘And I’m the lucky girl? What happens if I refuse you straight away?’
‘I lose the wager.’
‘Why should that matter to me?’
Lina watched as Lord Whitemore’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and she saw the flicker of a smile on his lips.
‘Right now of course it doesn’t, but come and have a drink with me and we can work the details out.’
Glancing over her shoulder as a ruse to buy a few seconds to make a decision, Lina deliberated. Although she knew she should be working, trying to earn the money she owed Uncle Tom, Lina had been performing at village fairs since she could walk and she was bored. She wanted more in her life than travelling with the same people, working the same jobs. She wanted excitement and adventure, and maybe this was her chance.
Lord Whitemore was already walking away towards one of the tents serving the local cider by the time she turned to face him again.
Muttering a string of expletives under her breath, Lina watched him go, wondering when he would realise she wasn’t following him. As much as she complained about her gypsy family and way of life, she couldn’t stand the arrogance of the upper classes. No one in her family would act so imperiously, especially if they wanted a favour. This Lord Whitemore needed her—he’d admitted as much not two minutes earlier—and now he was expecting her to scamper after him like some obedient puppy.
With one hand lifting her skirts, Lina hopped over a muddy puddle and wove through the crowds back towards the lively country music. She allowed herself a satisfied smile at the thought of Lord Whitemore arriving at the cider tent on his own, joining the small group of young women hovering by the musicians.
Raul was plucking away at his strings, tapping his foot to keep time for the little group. When he caught sight of Lina he nodded towards the empty space that had been cordoned off for dancing. It was the same at every fair—people would wander about for the first hour or two, enjoying the cider, looking at the different goods to buy and inspecting the livestock, but before long they would gravitate towards the music. Huddles of young women would look longingly at the fresh-faced young men across the open-air dance floor, hoping someone would ask them to dance. Of course no one wanted to be the first to sashay out into the open with everyone watching, and that was where Lina came in.
‘Ready?’ she asked a young man whom she was probably distantly related to. John was only a few years older than her, with a mass of dark hair and deep brown eyes. He was popular with the village girls wherever they went. He and Lina always took to the dance floor together, performing for the onlookers before splitting up to entice others to dance. It was a well-practised routine and as Raul saw them come together he motioned to the other musicians to up the tempo.
One of Lina’s greatest pleasures in life was dancing. As the music washed over her, she didn’t even have to think about the steps, just allowed her body to take over and move instinctively to the music. At these times she forgot about the audience gathered watching her and instead danced this first dance as if she was the only person in the entire world.
Round and round they spun, their feet barely touching the ground, and only as the music slowed temporarily did Lina catch sight of Lord Whitemore making his way to the front of the crowd.
‘My dance, I think,’ Lord Whitemore said as he reached them, catching Lina by the hand. At the same time John winked at a young country girl, beckoning her out to join him, so now there were four on the dance floor.
‘Lord Whitemore, I applaud your persistence, but I am working,’ Lina said, pulling away.
‘Enticing people to dance?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Then let me help.’
Before Lina could even open her mouth to protest Lord Whitemore had gripped her firmly around the waist, pulled her in closer so her body was pressed tightly against his and whisked her off across the grassy dance floor.
‘I don’t need your help.’
‘It is nice to help out your fellow human being. Rewarding.’ He spun her unexpectedly and flashed a flawless pearly white grin.
Out of the corner of
