by Vella, Wendy
“So what was that at the table?” Alex moved up beside him.
“What was what?”
“The flirting with Miss Haversham?”
“It was flirting, Alex.”
“I understand that, Ben, but I had thought you and—”
“If the next words out of your mouth are Miss Ainsley, then don’t speak them. I have no feelings for that woman.”
He felt his brother’s eyes on him, but he thankfully said nothing further. In case he changed his mind, Ben nudged his horse into a gallop, leaving the other guests behind. Alex kept pace with him.
The day was clear and the sky blue. Cows grazed in pastures, lazily swishing their tails to remove flies, and for the most part it was idyllic.
The village of Chipping Nippley, which they were at present riding into, was larger than Two Oaks (contrary to what Alex said, they were not locals and could not call it Twoaks), but Ben didn’t think it was as picturesque.
There was no river greeting them, or quaint shops butted together like books on a shelf.
“Apparently Edward I, also known as Edward Longshanks—”
“Thank you, Alex, I know who Edward I is.”
“Yes, well, apparently when he rode through Chipping Nippley he was ill and could not go on, so he stayed here for two weeks while he recovered.”
“Who told you that?” Alex wasn’t above telling a story to Ben that had no truth to it whatsoever with the hopes that he’d recount it and look like a fool. Ben often did the same thing to Alex.
“The duke, just this morning. Look there, see, that tavern is called The Longshanks.”
It was, but still not enough evidence to convince Ben.
“And there is Edward I Cobblers.”
The shoe shop had a crown perched over the doorway. In fact, every shop had some reference to the man Ben now believed had stayed here.
Alex said nothing, he just wore a satisfied smile that Ben ignored.
“You’ll be here for the Longshanks Fair?”
“We are indeed.” Ben smiled at the elderly woman standing on the roadside. “I have heard that the great man himself stayed here many years ago?”
She leaned to the right, putting her weight on one hip, and sucked in her bottom lip.
“You’ll be right about that, young sir. Graced us many times, he did. Said it was his favored place to stay. Left us many of his possessions.”
“Did he really? How wonderful,” Ben encouraged the woman.
“A feather from his favorite cap, and his most prized possession, his drinking vessel.”
“Well, I will be sure to inspect these items.”
“They’re dotted around the village. You’ll see there, in the front window of The Longshanks, that’s his drinking vessel.”
Alex and Ben dutifully looked. The vessel was something of a disappointment for Ben; he’d expected something gold and jewel-encrusted.
“It’s quite plain.” Alex voiced Ben’s thoughts.
“He was not a man of grand gestures, was our Edward Longshanks. He was humble.”
“Well then, that must be why,” Ben soothed the woman, who had now sucked her lips inside her mouth. “Now if you can point us in the direction of the fair, I would be grateful.”
“Through the village, take a right at the driveway, then you’ll see an open gate. You’ll want to enter the pint and pie run.”
“Pint and pie run?”
She gave Ben a look that suggested he wasn’t the most intelligent person she’d met that day.
“It’s through the woods. You have to stop and eat a pie and drink the pint before you can recite the riddle the fair maiden hands you.”
“Right,” Ben said, not sure what else to add.
“Mind you,” she cackled, “not many of them are actually maids, if you get my meaning.”
Alex barked out a laugh.
“Yes, well, thank you kindly for your information.”
“If you have a penny to spare, I’ll see it makes it into the village for the Longshanks fund.”
“I almost hate to ask,” Ben muttered to Alex.
“For preserving his memory.” The old woman glared at him. Her hearing had obviously not deteriorated with age.
Ben dug about in his pockets, as did Alex. The woman took the coins with a brisk nod, then walked away.
“I think you insulted her with your disparaging comment about the vessel,” Ben said, leading the way.
“Very likely. I wonder if there is actually a fund.”
They studied the shop fronts and saw the entire village had devoted itself to Edward I.
“Was this village even here back then?”
“Very likely,” Ben said, “but it was possibly just one or two structures of some kind.”
They crested the hill and saw color everywhere. Flags fluttered on tent roofs, and stalls had people lined up viewing their wares. Ben saw a small platform had been set up, and on it was a juggler throwing drinking vessels in the air.
“Exact replicas of the one we just saw in that window.”
Alex was laughing too hard to reply.
Soon they were wandering with the rest of the party from Rossetter. Of Primrose he saw no sign, which had Ben relaxing.
They walked between stalls. Ben dug into his pockets for money often, and was soon munching on treats. Hannah purchased shawls for the baby, as did Thea. Ace and Alex hovered. Ben knew he would never be like that, as he wasn’t going to be a father.
He tested how that felt inside him. Strangely, it left him feeling hollow. Logically, he knew there wasn’t a viable reason not to marry, and it was likely he could be happy like his brothers. But the memory of that searing pain when his mother deserted him had not eased in any way for Ben, and he never wanted to experience it again.
“Right. I have entered us into the pie and pint race,” Finn said. “I will beat you both.”
“You?” Ben scoffed. “You’re too old to beat us.”
“Did you hear that, Will? Apparently we are too old.”
“I know I am,” the Duke of Rossetter said. “But I shall cheer you on with a pint in my hands.”
“I’ll show you who is too old, Benjamin.” Will scowled at him.
“I was wondering about the riddle and the fair maiden?” Alex said.
“I think we have to carry the mugs to the finish line and hand them to her,” Finn added. “And she hands us a riddle to read.”
“You will not be kissing any maidens,” Phoebe stated loudly.
“Good day to you all.”
And with those five simple words, all the good resolutions and calm Ben had achieved fled. Turning, he found Primrose standing behind him with Mr. Sanders and Miss Fullerton Smythe.
Hollyhocks.
Chapter Seventeen
“We have purchased a great many things already.”
Primrose kept her eyes on Heather as she spoke to the Rossetter party. Benjamin was there, and the smile he’d given her had just the right amount of civility. It was a smile he would give anyone. That was exactly what she wanted, she reminded herself.
He had obviously come to his senses and realized that putting distance between them was for the best. There could be no more wonderful kisses or teasing. No more debates or letting her guard down, Primrose thought, shooting him a look.
His hat was in a large gloved hand, his hair ruffled. The jacket was a sedate brown, but the waistcoat was far from it. His brother, she thought. He would have selected it, as she doubted Benjamin would ever pick something like that.
“Come, Mr. Hetherington, we are to watch the acrobats.”
The jab of pain she felt just under the ribs was surely from the fudge she had just consumed, and not because Miss Haversham had slipped her arm through Benjamin’s.
“Excellent. I love acrobats,” he added.
She trailed along behind with Mr. Sanders.
“Are you to enter the pint and pie run, Mr. Sanders?”
“I am not th
e kind to do so, Miss Ainsley. I shall leave that to more enthusiastic members of our party.”
“Of course.”
He was as different from Benjamin as night was to day, and that was a good thing, Primrose reminded herself.
“Uncle Ben, there is a giant here!”
His niece ran toward him. He moved away from Lady Haversham and caught the little girl as she launched herself at him.
“Is there really? Do you know, I have never seen a giant.”
He hugged her close before lowering her to the ground.
He’d told Primrose marriage was not for him, but she had to wonder why. He was obviously good with children and had a kind heart. Plus, he was a good brother; she had seen that too.
“Primrose.”
“Yes, Heather?”
“Will you walk with me to the fortune teller’s tent?”
“Of course, if that is your wish.”
Taking her friend’s arm, she turned them away from the Rossetter party and headed in the direction of the tent that had purple and gold stripes and thick fringing.
Entering, they inhaled the musky scent.
“You have come to have your fortune told by the great Zvonka?”
The young girl could have been no more than ten. She wore a dress of blue silk and a belt that had many scarves tucked into it. On her head was another scarf; this one had beads sewn all over it. On her fingers were rings, and she had at least ten bracelets on her arms.
“Yes, please,” Primrose said when Heather stayed silent.
“Come this way.”
“You’re coming.” Heather’s fingers latched on to Primrose’s arm.
“I don’t want my fortune told.”
“I don’t care, you’re coming.”
She had little choice but to follow. Entering another room in the tent, they found a woman seated at a table. The scent in here was stronger. She was dressed like the child, but her eyes were ringed in black.
“Sit.”
Heather fell into the seat on the other side of the table.
“You also.” The woman, presumably Zvonka, waved Primrose into another chair the girl retrieved.
“No, I’m just watching.”
“Sit!”
She sat.
A cup of tea was thrust into Heather’s hands by the girl. Primrose also took one.
“Hold it with both hands and look into the liquid. Pour into it your heart’s desires and dreams,” Zvonka said in an eerie voice that had the hairs on the back of Primrose’s neck rising.
She wasn’t exactly a sceptic, but neither could she bring herself to believe that some tea leaves arranged in a cup could hold her future. But for Heather’s sake, she was willing to do this.
“Pour the liquid into the bowl Kezia holds.” Zvonka nodded to the girl.
They did as they were told, and then Kezia left, and suddenly the air thickened with tension. Looking around her, Primrose wondered how that was possible. Surely it was the same air they’d just been breathing.
“Focus!” Zvonka yelled.
“Right. Sorry,” Primrose muttered.
Heather shot her a nervous look.
Zvonka took Heather’s cup and looked inside. She stared into it intently for what felt like minutes.
“You are unhappy?”
“Oh, well—”
“You want what you cannot have.”
Heather slumped back into her chair.
“You are healthy, but others are determining your future for you, as is the way of your people.”
“Isn’t it your way, then?” Primrose asked. Zvonka scowled her into silence once more.
“I see a sword; there is a battle coming in your future.”
“Oh dear.” Heather’s hands twisted together.
“But also love. It will be up to you if you stand up for it. Up to you to grasp it with both hands.”
The cup was then lowered to the desk.
“Th-thank you… I think,” Heather whispered, now clearly unsettled.
“You.” She picked up Primrose’s cup and stared into it. “You are a difficult girl.”
“I’m not really, I just like to—”
“Do not speak!”
Primrose snapped her teeth together.
“You have much to face soon too. Many things to overcome. I see love for you also, but many, many obstacles are in your path before you can achieve it.”
“Well, they do say the path to true love is not an easy one.” Primrose tried to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere.
“Oh dear, that’s not good, Primrose.”
“She will overcome these trials and live a happy life with the one she loves,” Zvonka said quickly, obviously realizing her client was upset. “Now I am tired. Please give Kezia your money. I must rest and regain my strength before my next client.”
“Of course.” Heather hurried out of her seat, grabbing Primrose’s hand, and they left the room. They paid the young girl and were soon outside.
“Heather, you realize that she cannot possibly know your future.”
“She said I was unhappy, Primrose, and I am. She said I want what I cannot have.”
“Yes, but that could be a lot of young women of noble birth, surely.”
“No. She knew how I felt. Knew my feelings of unrequited love.”
“Love? Surely it has not come to that yet? I mean, you and Mr.—”
“Don’t speak his name, please!”
Primrose fell silent.
“And I do love him. We talked last night for quite some time where my parents could not see us. I had the first real conversation with the man who has intrigued me since I arrived in London.”
“But how is that possible, Heather, on such short acquaintance? You don’t even know his character,” Primrose said. “Surely you have only seen him a handful of times.”
“I know what I feel, and I have never felt this way before.”
She studied her friend, saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Heather. Are you sure your parents will not find him favorable?”
Heather shook her head. Primrose took her hand and squeezed it hard.
“I’m worried for you also, Primrose. There is true love in your future, but so much to overcome to reach it.”
“Heather, you really should not believe every word that woman said. She cannot know what is in our futures.”
“But she did. Don’t you see, Primrose, she knew what was inside me, and she knows there is trouble ahead for you. Do you think it involves Mr. Hetherington?”
“What? No! Why would you say such a thing?”
“You have been talking to him a great deal, and you get a look on your face when he is near.”
“No, I don’t!” Primrose tried to calm down. “He annoys me. The man is arrogant, and I feel someone needs to put him in his place, so I have been… putting him in his place, I mean.”
“Really? I thought there was more to it than that.”
“Absolutely not.”
“If you say so,” Heather said, much to Primrose’s relief. But she would not be persuaded that Zvonka did not know their futures, so Primrose gave up trying and hoped that in time her friend forgot about the wild prophecies.
“Come, ladies, the pie and pint race is due to start,” Mrs. Fletcher said when they returned to the Rossetter party. “We are to wait at the finish line to greet the men. Apparently, we count the mugs in their hands, and they must recite the words on a card we hand them. The one who can do so clearly and has the most mugs, wins.”
“Good lord, that doesn’t sound like much fun,” Primrose said.
“Men.” Mrs. Fletcher shook her head. “They are indeed an unusual breed.”
All the women gathered nodded in agreement.
Chapter Eighteen
Ben rolled up his sleeves as he looked left and then right.
“Why do I let you talk me into these things, Alex?”
“Because you love them,” h
is twin said.
Alex, Ben, Finn, Will, Ace, Luke, and Jeremy Caton were participating in the pint and pie race with some of the locals.
“This is the second time in two days I’m having to exert myself,” he heard Ace say. “You noblemen are a curious lot.”
“Says the man who smashes his fist into a man’s stomach for fun,” Finn said.
“Yes, but often it’s your brother’s stomach, so there is a great deal of enjoyment involved. As yet, I am unsure if this will produce the same emotion.”
“True, but I have got a few jabs in of my own,” Ben added. He and Ace sparred a lot in London.
Ben looked around him. He had no idea where Primrose had wandered off to; he just hoped she stayed out of the water… if there was any nearby.
“Damn,” he muttered. Stop thinking about her.
“Pardon?”
He waved Alex’s question aside. Ben vowed silently that she would no longer intrigue him.
“If I can have your attention, please.”
A woman who could only be described as buxom waddled out in front of the men. She wore a grubby white dress with plenty of lace and frills, and a bonnet the same.
“My name is Mrs. Higgs, and this is my husband, Mr. Edward Higgs.”
He was staggering out behind her carrying a large bell. The handle was worn and spoke of its age.
“This here bell was used by Edward I on his visit to Chipping Nippley, this village being a particular favorite of his.”
Ben looked at Alex. The corner of his brother’s lip lifted.
“The tankards of ale you’ll be drinking from are exact replicas of his. You will carry them with you to the end. At each stop, someone will watch you drink the entire contents and eat the pie. Cheats will be disqualified.”
“They take this quite seriously,” Will said out the side of his mouth. “Joseph cheated once and was disqualified, and he’s a duke.”
“This whole Edward I business is very intense.”
“Completely. They have several events each year to celebrate him. There are more Edwards born in this village than in any other in the United Kingdom.”
“The winner will receive one bushel of Squire Edward’s corn,” Mrs. Higgs added. “Follow the path down the hill and into the forest. Ribbons on the trees will show you the way.” She went on to explain all the rules. “If you wish to purchase a tankard to remember your day here in Chipping Nippley, they are available at the Blacksmiths for 3 shillings.”
