Page 24 of How to Tempt An Earl
‘One would think you’d never been to a fair,’ Kieran laughed as they passed a leather worker’s stall showing exquisite sheathes and bridles.
She turned her green gaze on him, her smile wide. ‘I haven’t,’ she said, and laughed at the look of surprise he gave her.
‘Notever?’ he asked in disbelief.
‘No. There were fairs near some of the schools I attended. There was a frost fair on the Neva River in St Petersburg. We could see it from the school windows, but fairs were deemed too dangerous for boarding-school girls.’
‘I’ll be sure to keep you close,’ he teased, but she felt him tuck her arm more securely through his. ‘The headmistress wasn’t entirely wrong to worry. Pickpockets do abound at such events, and there are some charlatans among the legitimate vendors.’
‘That sounds exciting. Who do you think is a charlatan?’ She looked around the grounds, eyeing each booth, and he laughed.
Kieran discreetly nodded towards a booth selling ‘Dr Graham’s Medicinal Tonic’. ‘There’s one—that tonic likely doesn’t lessen anything but one’s purse.’
She tugged at him. ‘I want to go and see him.’
They stood a little distance from the booth, listening to the respectably dressed, middle-aged man behind the counter in a dark suit profess the magical properties of the tonic. ‘It’ll cure female complaints, it’ll soothe a teething baby, relieve headaches, muscle aches and so much more for just five shillings for the small bottle and eight shillings for the large. Then there’s my special liver rejuvenator, made from the purest ingredients, only found high in the Alps…’
She watched, enrapt, caught up in the story. She turned towards Kieran for a moment. ‘The gentleman is quite good. I like the part about the Swiss milk thistle.’
‘A good story is central to selling the product,’ Kieran murmured, his tone suggesting that, while she enjoyed watching Dr Graham, he was enjoying watching her, a thought that set something hot and wild loose within her.
‘What do you suppose is really in it?’ she whispered as the doctor’s talk concluded and people surged forward, pressing coins into Dr Graham’s hand.
‘Alcohol, mostly—probably opium, so that it’s addictive. It creates return customers.’
‘That’s a bit dark.’ She frowned. ‘And they’ll give that to their children? Suddenly, I find this less entertaining. I feel like I should stop them. Five shillings is a lot; it’s half a week’s work in some places.’ She glanced at him, frustrated. ‘Can’t we do something?’
‘What would you have me do?’ Kieran steered her away towards other booths. ‘It’s not our choice to make. But if it makes you feel better, it angers me too to see hard-working people swindled out of their money. Still, no one’s forcing them. Dr Graham is just presenting them with a choice.’
They stopped in front of a booth selling various blades and he flashed her a smile. ‘Just as I am presenting you with a choice. I think you should have a dagger. Fairsaregood places to purchase daggers, unlike elixirs.’ He grinned and directed her attention to a few of the blades on display. ‘Try this one. It’s pretty and well-made.’
He held it up for her, moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her as he put it in her hand. ‘The handle is polished camel bone; the pommel is brass. Do you feel the balance? You could throw it if you had to. Try it.’ He stepped back, giving her room to take few experimental strokes. ‘Dagger work is close work, but you don’t have to reload it.’
‘It’s beautiful, and light—much lighter than your pistols.’ And it made her feel…powerful; more in control than she’d felt with a pistol.
‘Then you should have it.’ Kieran handed over the coins. ‘I think a dagger is more portable than a pistol, especially for a woman. You can easily carry it on your person.’
She worried her lip. The dagger was beautiful but it was also deadly. ‘You are preparing me for danger,’ she said as the craftsman wrapped the blade.
‘I want you to be safe, to be able to protect yourself.’ Because he might not be there to do it; because their choices would take them in different directions and those decisions would be made soon.
‘Protection through empowerment.’ She flashed him a grateful smile. ‘Thank you, Kieran. I will cherish this blade. Hopefully, I will never have to use it.’
‘At least, not tonight.’ He took her hand. ‘Look, there’s French milled soap made with lavender from Provence. We should stock up. We don’t know what supplies will be like at the Hall.’ He was diverting her and she let him. Tonight was not for gloomy thoughts, it was for living, and perhaps even for loving.
She reached for a bar of soap and inhaled, letting the lavender soothe away the dark thoughts. ‘That smell is divine.’
‘We’ll take six bars.’ Kieran flashed her a wink. ‘Don’t say a word, Celeste. It’s your first fair and I mean to make it memorable.’
The woman working on the booth gave a knowing laugh. ‘When your man wants to spoil you, never say no.’ She leaned close to Celeste. ‘Especially when your man is as handsome as this one. He could spoil me any time he wanted, but anyone can see he only has eyes for you.’
Her man… Celeste blushed at the woman’s frankness but she liked the idea of that very much. It was a fantasy she could let herself indulge at least for the night, even if she could not for the long term. Fantasies didn’t work that way. That was why they were fantasies.
The spoiling continued in earnest after that: a fistful of hair ribbons in a rainbow of colours because Kieran couldn’t decide which colour he liked best in her hair; a pretty necklace of sea-glass, the colour of her eyes, strung on a sterling-silver chain, and silver ear-bobs to match, all expertly etched with Celtic runes. Then full darkness fell and lanterns were lit, giving the fair a festive atmosphere. They ate hot meat pasties and drank cold ale at a plank table, where Kieran laughingly licked a droplet from her lips with his tongue and turned it into a lingering kiss that fired her blood and had those around them clapping. She ought to have been shocked, she ought to have reprimanded him for such liberties, but what did it matter? No one cared and this wasfun. There’d been too little of that in her life.
‘How are we doing? Is the fair living up to your expectations?’ he asked afterwards.
‘Exceeding them,’ she answered honestly as they left the plank table and began to stroll again. ‘The fair is just as I imagined it. Boarding-school girls are guarded quite closely, sheltered intensely. Our childhoods are not at all like the one you describe at Willow Park with your brothers, all of you running wild. We saw little of the outside and nothing of the real world.’
