describe, rather ordinary.”
Desperate, Patience searched the crowd looking for anyone who could pass as Sally’s aunt. She determined to carry Sally if necessary into the crowd, hoping to lose the earl and his interest in them behind.
She spotted a middle-aged woman in black and pointed to her. “Sally, I think I see Aunt Bella over there. Come along, dear.”
But the child frowned in confusion. “But, Mama, that’s not Aunt Bella.” Suddenly, the sound of the merry-go-round caught Sally’s attention, and immediately dolls and aunts became yesterday’s candy. She pulled at the earl’s arm. “Can we go on the merry? Oh, please! Please, Mr. Long?” Sally pleaded.
“I don’t see why not, as long as your mama approves,” he told her, looking back at Patience a few steps behind them.
She stared at him in bewilderment and found herself nodding. She should have been content to have the opportunity to study her enemy this closely, but could not quite reconcile this man with the image of the purveyor of evil. But what did she really know of him? Unnerved, she could not suppress a shiver.
Unfortunately, the earl must have seen her tremble, for he immediately removed his coat and placed it around her shoulders. “It is certainly a chilly night after the recent rainfall. Let us take the little one on a ride. Then we will look for Aunt Bella.”
Sally and the earl walked over to the ride, while Patience followed slowly, enveloped in a musky cocoon of warmth in his greatcoat. His strong, clean scent disturbed her, and she knew not why. It worried her. The sooner she discovered proof of the earl’s guilt, Rupert could be free of the treason charges, and they would see the last of this devious man.
At the merry-go-round, Lord Londringham handed coins to the proprietor and lifted Sally onto the wooden platform, already crowded with other children arguing over who would have the best chargers. Sally eagerly climbed onto a small brown pony and turned to look at the earl with a smile.
As Patience dug deep into her pocket for her lucky onyx stone, she watched the child, aware that her ordeal of pretense had only just begun. When she turned to look for Colette, she suddenly felt strong hands at her waist easily lifting her onto the brightly painted horse beside Sally.
She heard him whisper in her ear, “Thought you might also enjoy a ride.”
It all happened so quickly, his touch, his whisper, then he was gone. On her gray-and-yellow wooden charger, Patience sputtered like a candle at the end of its wick, for she had no notion of taking a ride. But before she could climb down, the carousel jerked into motion. With a firm hold on her horse’s pole, she shook her head at the man’s audacity. Next time, she would certainly be ready for him. She hoped.
Her contemplation was cut short when she heard Sally’s peals of glee as they spun around and around. Thankfully, Patience’s charger was wooden, given her fear of horses. But after a few more revolutions, she was ready to exchange her seat for solid ground, while Sally protested her ride had ended much too soon.
The earl stood ready to help them down from the platform, a package tucked under his arm. He plucked Sally down first, then reached for Patience, who tensed, feeling his sinewy hands about her waist. The heat of his touch ignited a strange warmth in her belly and a flush across her cheeks. She did not have to look up to know he watched her as she clung to his hard forearms in an effort to regain her balance.
Finally, when able to stand without his assistance—he seemed oddly reluctant to let her go—she told him succinctly, “Sir, the next time, I will advise you if I wish to take a ride.” She must remember to keep her wits about her, and her feet firmly planted on the ground when dealing with the man.
“Mrs. Grundy, I sincerely hope you do,” he returned pleasantly.
The gleam in his eyes confused her, and she quickly looked away, finding her bonnet needed adjustment again.
“Oh, that was fun! Shall we try again?” Sally cried, as she spun in circles, her arms flung out as if to fly.
“No, little lady, we shall find your aunt,” Patience stated firmly.
Her authoritative tone brought the child to a slow halt. A grin suddenly lit Sally’s face as she spied another amusement. “A puppet show! Let’s see the puppets!” She grabbed the earl’s hand and began to pull him in the direction of the little curtained box where a group of children were laughing at the antics of Simple and Master Simon, a comedy about a hopeless servant and his hard-to-please master.
Patience sighed and reluctantly followed her companions, suddenly suspicious that both Sally and the earl enjoyed themselves at her expense. She saw the earl purchase the child an orange from a merchant, but declined when one was offered to her.
“Really, Mrs. Grundy, that disapproving look on your face surprises me. Do you not like to see your daughter, your stepdaughter enjoy herself?”
Startled, she blinked up at the earl, standing a little too close for her own peace of mind. She swallowed. Hard. “Yes, I only worry about finding her aunt. And it is growing quite late. Surely we must be keeping you from something or someone?” She watched his guarded expression carefully.
He pulled out his watch. “Yes, I am due to meet someone. But they shall wait.” He returned the watch to his pocket and leaned idly on his cane, seeming to mask his predatory nature. “I believe you are unfamiliar to Winchelsea. Where is home?”
Alert, she replied, “A good two-day journey from here, my lord.”
Watching the performance, he asked her, “And what brings you to Winchelsea? A new position? A suitor?”
Patience turned to stare at his hard profile, then quickly focused on the show when he glanced her way. Think quickly. I must think quickly. “Ah, visiting. Yes, visiting my cousin for a short while.”
Preventing anything further along this line of inquisition, she smiled brightly. “And where is the woman for your arm?” Her question edged in flirtation, hoping to distract him. She observed him intently, waiting for his answer.
When he shifted his stance to face her, his smile almost charmed her. “Madam, fate has not seen fit to provide me with a wife, and I must take my pleasure like this evening when it is afforded me.”
Patience blushed, wondering if he lingered a little too long over the word “pleasure.” She remarked hurriedly, “You seem to enjoy children, you must wish for your own.”
His blue gaze grew deeper as he gave her an amusing smile. “First a wife, then children. Are you quite sure this is not some kind of proposal, Mrs. Grundy?”
Horrified at his pronouncement, albeit in jest, she clasped her hands to her now-scarlet face. “My lord, I intended no such liberty.”
He laughed at her expression, then, as if he remembered something, said softly, “I almost wish—”
Sally interjected, “Please, I want to see the tigers and unicorns and…and ponies!” as they left the puppets for the Wild Beast show.
Wearily, Patience told her, “Ponies, my dear girl, are not wild beasts, and I do not believe there are any unicorns around here.”
“Where’ve ye been, Sally?” a thunderous voice commanded from high above.
Startled,
