‘I did have a reason for coming here this evening.’ His jaw flickered. He looked a little less sure of himself than usual.
Oh, this was it, he was going to end their arrangement. She steeled herself. ‘What is that?’ She made herself smile, a thing of carelessness, though her lips felt stiff and her chest tight.
‘I wanted to ask if you will you drive out again with me on Wednesday afternoon.’
Wednesday would be the second half-day closing day he had asked her to do something with him. The pain of thinking of saying goodbye was replaced by a lightness out of proportion to the invitation. ‘You think we should go to Hyde Park again?’
‘No. I think we have accomplished all we set out to do. This will be purely pleasure.’
She tried not to let his words sound like more than they were. He was being kind, that was all. He did say he wanted them to get to know each other better. This was part of it. ‘Where will we go? Back to the tea shop?’
He shook his head. ‘It is a surprise.’
She didn’t always like surprises. Sometime they were not very pleasant. But... ‘Very well. Wednesday afternoon. What time?’
‘Noon, if you can manage it?’
‘I can. Tansy can manage for the hour or so before the shop closes.’
‘Good. I’ll be off now, then.’
To her surprise he leaned in and kissed her cheek.
She was still touching the spot his lips had caressed when the door to the street closed behind him.
Chapter Eight
Avery found himself whistling as he knocked at Carrie’s door on Wednesday afternoon. He was a few minutes late. He hoped Carrie wouldn’t give him a bear-garden jaw, but he’d had a little more trouble borrowing the carriage than usual. His brother had caught him in the carriage house and had futilely wasted precious minutes trying to persuade him to visit with their father.
Avery had been very tempted, but when he asked if the old fellow actually wanted to see him, Bart had looked more than a little tense. ‘Somebody has to make the first move towards a reconciliation,’ he had mumbled.
‘That’s all very well,’ Avery had replied. ‘The question is whether he will throw me out on my ear when I tell him I still have no intention of marrying to please him.’
‘Dammit, Avery, you don’t have to say that, you could just say you simply are not ready yet. Give him some hope of winning, at least. You know what a stubborn, prideful man he is.’
‘I am not going to lie to him.’
Bart had looked ready to throttle him. ‘If you don’t act soon, you might never get the chance to make things right with him.’
A cold shiver had run down his spine. ‘Is he that ill?’
‘I don’t know. The doctors will tell me nothing. On his orders.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
Bart sighed. ‘Please do.’
‘Now, may I borrow your carriage? I have an appointment.’
For a moment, Avery had thought his brother was going to say no, perhaps as a way to try to bring him to heel, but then he merely waved a hand, a gesture of assent.
‘You usually take the curricle.’
‘I need the town carriage today.’ He wanted a bit of privacy. ‘I’ll have it back by seven at the latest.’
‘Do not rush on my account,’ his brother said. His voice sounded a little thin. ‘I’m too busy for gallivanting.’
‘All work and no play made Jack a dull boy,’ Avery quipped, but his brother was already out of the stable doors and heading for the house. He wasn’t sure whether he’d heard him or not.
Perhaps he should have followed Bart in and tried to make his peace with his father. But he knew Papa very well. An apology would not suffice. Only obeying the ducal edict would make the old autocrat happy.
Thrumby’s porter was used to Avery coming and going and did no more than touch his hat and nod when he admitted Avery.
Carrie opened her door the moment he knocked. She looked delightful in a rich burgundy-and-black-striped carriage gown with a shako-styled hat set at an angle and sporting a net veil that skimmed the bridge of her nose and made her look mysterious, and elegant. Only a tall woman could carry off such a look.
‘You look...magnificent.’
She looked surprised. ‘Why, thank you, my lord.’ She tipped her head to one side. ‘Since you didn’t say where we were going I was not sure what to wear.’
‘That outfit is perfect for our destination.’ He frowned at it. ‘Or it will be if...’ He checked the hem and smiled. ‘Good, there is a loop to hold up your hems. I wouldn’t like your gown to become soiled.’
‘So, we are walking, then?’
‘We will be, once we get there.’
She laughed and shook her head. ‘No use trying to tease it out of you, I see.’
He laughed. ‘None at all. Shall we?’
He escorted her out to the carriage and they climbed aboard.
Laughter was still bright in her eyes. ‘Shall I try to guess?’
He crossed the small space between them and sat at her side, put one arm around her shoulders and gave her a grin. ‘Now that would be a waste of your breath.’
She gazed up at him, her grey eyes questioning, her full lips parted, tempting him to discover their softness and plumb the sweetness of her mouth. He lowered his head a fraction, holding her gaze, seeking her permission. Heat rushed through his veins. His body tingled.
Her breathing quickened as if the air within the carriage had become too thin, her full bosom rose and fell in the most delectable way, yet there were shadows in her eyes. A slight furrow in her brow. She was worried. Unsure.
He did not want her anxious or afraid. He wanted her joyful and happy. Desiring him as much as he desired her. But it was far too soon for that. Knowing women as he did, he was not entirely surprised at her reticence. They had met each other only recently, but even in that short time he had learned she was not the careless sort.
Kissing her now, as much as he wanted to, might well have her fleeing for the safety of her family. He took a deep breath and, ignoring his body’s demands for more, he gave her shoulders a light squeeze, careful not to crush her pretty hat. How marvellously well she fit into the crook of his arm.
The tension in her body eased and they gazed out of the window in companionable silence for a time. Something else he liked about her. The lack of incessant chatter. The aura of calm that surrounded her, now she wasn’t fearing his intentions.
‘Are you ever going to tell me where we are going?’ she asked when they had left the outskirts of town. ‘This is certainly not the way to Hampstead.’
‘You are right. But you will see where we are going when we get there. I really want it to be a surprise.’
‘A nice one, I hope.’
‘It is certainly intended to be. It isn’t too far, I promise.’
Soon they entered the village of Paddington and drew up near a village green crowded with people and stalls as he had been promised. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Carrie sat up straight, then turned in her seat to face him. ‘It is a fair!’
‘A rather small one, I’m afraid. Would you like to take in the sights?’
She shook her head at him. ‘You are a very surprising man, Lord Avery.’
‘I simply aim to please. It is nowhere near as grand as the Goose Fair in Nottingham, but I thought it might amuse you for a while this afternoon.’
He climbed down and helped her out. She hooked her arm through his and gazed about her with bright eyes and a smile on her lips. At the sight of her pleasure, his heart swelled in the stupidest of ways. ‘What would you like to do first: visit the stalls, ride on the merry-go-round, or watch one of the side shows?’
She laughed with delight. ‘You mean us to actually ride on the merry-go-round?’
‘Naturally.’
‘Then let us do that first.’
It was what he would have chosen, too. He guided her across the green to the far side where the merry-go-round held the place of honour in amongst a milling crowd.
* * *
Now she was faced with the whirling structure, Carrie’s heart picked up speed. Would she dare? But with Avery’s gentle pressure at the base of her spine, it seemed she had little choice. After her bold words, she certainly wasn’t going to back down.
Avery paid for their tickets and they waited in line for their turn. As she looked about her, she realised there were very few people present whom she would call gentry. The patrons looked like shop girls on their afternoon off, or labourers, plus an assortment of very rough characters who looked like they would cut your purse or your throat with equal enthusiasm. She shifted closer to Avery, who put an arm around her waist.
A tall, skinny, middle-aged man in an old-fashioned frock coat and a top hat wandered over to the line in which they stood. He removed his hat and beamed. He opened his arms wide as if he was meeting a group of old friends. ‘Ladies and gents, lassies and lads, I offer you a wonder of nature not to be missed. Did you ever wonder what the future held? Did you ever want to improve your fortune at the tables, or know which horse to bet on in a race? Madame Rose can tell you all this and more. All you need to do is cross her palm with a bit of silver and you will gaze into the future.’
‘Can she tell me where to find a handsome husband?’ a young woman further up the line called out. Her friend giggled and nudged her with her elbow.
‘She will answer whatever you ask her,’ the barker said, drawing closer to the two girls. ‘She’ll give you a love potion if you wants.’
‘’Ow do we know she’s not a fraud?’ the other girl said. ‘She’s a gypsy, isn’t she?’
The barker smile widened. ‘She tells you things about you no one else knows. You’ll see.’
The girls whispered to each other and checked their meagre store of coins. The queue shuffled forward. Soon it would be her and Avery’s turn for the merry-go-round.
Carrie’s stomach lurched when the barker’s toothy grin focused on her next. Avery gave her a little squeeze. ‘We will visit you a little later, friend.’ Avery had a certain presence about him, a confidence that brooked no argument.
The man’s friendly grin wavered a bit, but he bowed and moved on.
Carrie let go a sigh of relief.
‘Would you like to have your fortune told?’ Avery asked.
Did she really want to know her future? What if she didn’t like what was in store? ‘Would you?’
‘I wouldn’t mind knowing the outcome of the Newmarket cup,’ he said. ‘I’d be set up for life.’
Gambling. Her stomach churned. He might think a wager on a horse race was harmless enough, but she knew better. Jonathan had gambled away a huge amount of money Westram could ill afford and then married her to help pay off his debts. He’d ruined not only his own life, but impoverished his sisters and his unwanted wife. And then he’d had the gall to take his own life by flinging himself into battle because he’d never wanted to marry her in the first place.
In trying to explain what had happened to all her father’s money, Westram had said that in his opinion some people got so caught up in the excitement of winning, they could not stop even when they lost. It was some sort of compulsion. A compulsion that had hurt too many people in Carrie’s opinion.
One man of that sort in her life was one man too many, if they did not care whom they hurt.
‘I would far sooner let the future be a surprise,’ she said quietly.
He laughed. ‘Don’t be such a stick in the mud.’
‘You don’t really expect her to tell you the outcome of a horse race, do you?’ Heaven forefend he risked his money based on such things.
‘Her guess is as good as mine. Come on, Carrie, it is only a bit of fun.’
He seemed so cavalier about the whole idea. It didn’t sit well in her stomach, but who was she to spoil the day? ‘All right. We’ll go after this.’
They shuffled forward again and watched the two shop girls whirling around, their giggles rising to shrieks the faster the two men in the centre of the contraption pushed against the spokes. And then it was their turn.
They sat side by side on the seats of a replica of an open carriage, while another couple mounted a goose and a gander and a mother and child mounted a couple of gaily painted horses. It turned slowly at first. Avery put his arm around her waist to steady her and the world around them passed by in a blur. Carrie closed her eyes.
Beside her Avery laughed, clearly enjoying the sensation that made her stomach feel queasy. She forced her eyes open and gradually managed to pick out things as they rushed by. A girl selling ribbons. A donkey giving rides to children. The colourful awnings of the stalls. She grinned at Avery and then giggled, resting her head on his shoulder and enjoying the sensation of closeness in the rush of movement.
The roundabout slowed and came to a stop. Avery helped her down. Strangely the earth beneath her feet seemed to keep moving. She staggered a few steps while he held her tight. Finally, the world stopped spinning and everything was back to normal.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
He sounded concerned. She gave her head a little shake. ‘Yes, I think so. That was fun.’ She glanced back over her shoulder. ‘Thank you. I would never have dared to get on there by myself.’
‘You look a little pale.’
She put her palms to her face. ‘Do I? How odd. My stomach was a little queasy at first, but I did become used to it.’
He took her hand. ‘What would you like to do next? Look at the fairings?’
Glad he hadn’t suggested the fortune teller, she nodded. ‘I need some ribbons for the shop. Perhaps they will have something suitable.’
They walked along the row of carts and barrows some of which were set beneath striped awnings. There were all sorts of things for sale. Lucky hares’ feet, ribbons of every colour, trinkets made of china, bunches of heather, bits of lace, pipe stems. But the ribbons were mostly not new and Carrie decided they would not do for the quality of hats in her shop.
Avery bought her a sprig of heather to pin on her coat for luck while she bought him a handkerchief that likely had been stolen. They laughed about their purchases, vowing they would keep them as mementoes of the day. A baker ringing a bell caught Avery’s attention. He had a tray of delicious-smelling meat pies balanced on his head.
‘Are you hungry?’ Avery asked.
‘I am,’ she said. ‘It must be all the fresh air.’
The baker lifted the tray down so they could make their choices.
‘I am not sure I can eat a whole one,’ Carrie said. Her stomach gave a little grumble as if to deny her words and they collapsed laughing.
The baker looked at them as if they had run mad.
‘Two pies, please,’ Avery said, handing over some coins, and they wandered along side by side eating their treat. A small dog appeared and danced along beside them. It leaped up and down all around them, begging. A small boy charged over as if to claim the animal and stumbled into Avery, who caught him by the arm and gave him a little shake. ‘Go play off your tricks somewhere else, lad,’ he growled.
The boy gave him a cheeky grin and dashed away, calling the dog as he went.
Carrie blinked. ‘What was that about.’
‘He was trying to pick my pocket.’
Avery didn’t seem angry.
‘Is he not a little young to be involved in crime?’ Carrie asked.
‘Not these days. Most of the crime committed in London is committed by children.’ His voice was grim.
‘Something ought to be done about it.’
‘There are things being done, but not nearly
enough. Wipe your hands on this.’ He passed her his handkerchief, not the one she had given him, but another. ‘It is clean.’
She chuckled, did as he suggested and handed it back. ‘I suppose he was trying to steal this.’
‘Likely. And that lace you were looking at earlier was likely cut from the bottom of some poor unsuspecting lady’s petticoat, so you had better watch out for yours.’
‘This way, lady and gentleman,’ a greasy-looking man called out to them. ‘In here you will see the most amazing sight of your life. Take a peep at the bearded lady. It is as real as the hair on your face, sir. Pull it if you don’t believe it.’
Carrie grimaced. ‘I don’t think I really—’
‘Nor me,’ Avery said. ‘I am much more interested in the fortune teller.’
Carrie’s heart sank. She had been hoping to avoid that too. But it seemed that it was inevitable. They wove their way between the people flocking around the stalls and avoided the flocks of geese and the man offering to box anyone who would like to try to win a shilling and found the little red-and-white-striped tent on the outskirts of green.
There was no evidence of the barker, but a sign pinned to one of the flaps proclaimed that Madame Rosie was in and willing to read palms, tea leaves or look in her crystal ball for a variety of prices.
‘Come in,’ a hollow-sounding, foreign-accented voice said.
‘There are two of us,’ Avery said.
‘That is fine,’ Madame Rose replied from the dark inside of the tent. ‘Come in, my lord.’
Avery winked. ‘It seems the lady knows her business.’
* * *
Avery held back the canvas for Carrie to enter. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all. He’d been teasing her when he suggested they have their fortunes told, but he had a sense that Carrie, while she had agreed, was apprehensive.
He leaned close and lowered his voice. ‘Don’t take anything she says seriously. It is all a hum.’
A Lord for the Wallflower Widow Page 12