The boys looked on with bored expressions, obviously not sharing his sentiments. Lance began making rude noises with his hands and armpits, and Michael quickly escorted him outside. Only when a juggler took the stage did the other two boys perk up and strain on the edges of their seats in order to see better.
Throughout the afternoon Brent sent several worried stares Darcy’s way. She’d been unusually quiet ever since the freak show. The event had disturbed him as well. Not so much the physical imperfections and abnormalities, though Brent would be lying if he didn’t admit to being a bit repulsed. Still, he felt sympathy for those people, who were forced to act like trained monkeys and entertain others.
Remembering the gasps of revulsion and the jeers from the so-called “normal” people in the audience, Brent was reminded of the games in the ancient Roman colosseum. The only difference he could see between the two was that the Romans had once held games of sport to kill the flesh. This sideshow had been designed to kill the spirit of those on exhibit. He frowned at the memory, wishing to put the event far behind him. Once the juggler exited the stage, he suggested they eat.
The huge lunch Irma had prepared didn’t satisfy the boys, who insisted on roasted peanuts, candy apples, and other treats—all of which Michael readily supplied. Brent shook his head, thinking of the bicarbonate of soda that would likely be administered to three stomachaches tonight. Four, if Darcy kept at it. Her disturbance over the sideshow didn’t seem to affect her appetite. Of course, he knew she was partial to fruit, but three candy apples and a small paper bag of sugared orange slices was taking it a bit far.
They passed a tall man in a clown suit handing out balloons to children. The man wore a green-and-white polka-dot shirt with a yellow bow tie, dark baggy pants, and a tiny hat on his head. His face was hidden behind layers of white and black paint, and a huge red frown replaced the usual clown smile.
“Would you like a balloon?” Michael asked the boys.
Joel and Lance both looked the clown’s way but shook their heads. “Naw, them’s for babies,” Lance said. “Can we ride that?” He pointed to the upright circular monstrosity with seats resembling buckets.
“The Ferris wheel,” Michael said, nodding. “I don’t see why not.”
Joel cocked his head. “You been to a carnival before, Mr. Larkin? You know the names of all the rides.”
Michael smiled. “I’ve been to Coney Island’s amusement park. It’s a lot like this, only on a much grander scale.”
As they drew closer to the Ferris wheel, Tommy’s face blanched. “Do we have to ride on that if we don’t want to?” he all but whispered.
Darcy gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Of course not. We can find something else to do while the others ride.”
Michael nodded down the midway to the revolving ride with the painted wooden horses attached. “Why not take the lad on the carousel?”
Tommy nodded, smiling. “I do like horses, even if they ain’t real.”
Joel looked in that direction. “I’d like to go on that too.”
Brent stared at him skeptically. He would have figured Joel would be interested in the more thrilling ride.
“I’ll take Lance,” Michael said. “You two take the others. We’ll meet at the hippodrome afterwards.”
“And see the Wild West show and the wild animals there?” Lance said hopefully, his eyes wide as he craned his head to look up at Michael.
The old Irishman grinned and ruffled his hair. “Aye. If we’re in time for the next show. I t’ink it will be a lot like the circus I was telling you about.”
Arrangements made, they went their separate ways.
“Mr. Thomas?”
Brent was only a few yards from the carousel when he heard his name called from behind. He turned to see a patriarch of their small town, one of those in strongest opposition to the reformatory. “Good afternoon, Mr. Forrester,” Brent said courteously, though his stomach plummeted in dismay.
“Do my eyes deceive me?” The man’s mouth turned down underneath his walruslike white mustache. He adjusted his monocle and gave the boys a scathing glance. “Have you taken these hooligans away from the reform to mix with members of decent society?”
Brent maintained his pleasant smile. “Mr. Forrester, I assure you, all precautions have been taken. These boys are being rewarded for their exemplary behavior—”
“Exemplary!” the old man scorned. “Since when is thievery, lying, and who knows what other fiendish acts cause for reward?”
“It is their changed behavior for which they’re being rewarded.” Briefly Brent described the contest.
Mr. Forrester’s white brows knitted together. “I assume you cleared such a thing with Judge Markham?”
“Everything has been taken into account, Mr. Forrester. Now if you’ll excuse me?” Brent tipped his hat, took Joel’s hand, and moved away.
“Mark my words, Mr. Thomas, the town council will hear about this,” Mr. Forrester called after him. “With criminal activity rampant in your own family, I find it shocking that Mr. Lyons would have left you in charge in the first place. A significant error on his part if this is how you choose to run the institution. . .”
Brent kept walking, though he felt the sharp stab of Mr. Forrester’s words. Feelings of anger at Bill flared, and it was with difficulty that he pushed them away.
Darcy took a place beside Brent. “You’re doin’ a fine job, Guv’ner—the boys are better behaved than I ever did see them. Why, even Charleigh was saying just yesterday how pleased she is with your work at the Refuge.”
Brent looked at her. Under the hat, her stormy eyes blazed.
“I cannot take full credit for that,” he said. “The boys’ improvement is due in part to your ministrations also. It’s something we’ve accomplished together, with a significant amount of help from above.”
Darcy stopped walking and stared at him in surprise. A soft smile tilted her lips. “Together. . .we do make a fine team, don’t we, Guv’ner?”
Her wistful-sounding words shook him. He couldn’t look away from her shining face; and he suddenly longed to stroke her cheek, which appeared as soft as velvet.
A chuckle shook Brent from his trance. He blinked, noticing how people were walking around where he and Darcy stood and stared at each other in the middle of the midway.
“Daydreaming again, Mr. Thomas?” Joel inquired innocently. “Wonder what it’s about this time.” He snickered and elbowed Tommy in the ribs, earning an answering chuckle from the lad and a stern gaze from Brent.
“Come along,” he snapped, his pace faster than before. “We haven’t all day to waste at the fairgrounds.”
❧
In a daze, Darcy stared at Brent’s departing form, then put a hand to the crown of her hat and hurried after him. For one breathless moment, she’d thought he might kiss her—there, in the midst of the crowd, with strains of calliope music coming from somewhere in the midway and mixing with the dreamy music from the carousel. His eyes had been so soft, so full of something that made Darcy’s stomach whirl.
“Guv’ner?” she said as she came up behind him and put a hand to his shoulder.
Brent turned, his expression sober. The spark that lit his eyes when he stared at her earlier was gone. “Joel is complaining of a stomachache now and doesn’t want to ride,” he said, businesslike, his tone holding none of its former warmth. “With all the sweets he ate, I’m not surprised. We shall stand and watch while you take Tommy onto the carousel.”
Lips compressed, she nodded curtly and took the boy’s hand to lead him away, angry with herself for daring to hope. When would she learn? Brent thought of her—would always think of her—much as one of those poor freaks at the sideshow. It didn’t matter how she improved herself; he most certainly would never see the change. She wondered why she bothered, then shook away the thought.
She did it for herself. For Darcy Evans. She wanted to be everything God intended her to be. She enjoyed learning, both i
n her studies and on being a lady. Her accomplishments made her feel good inside. Darcy lifted her chin with confidence as she stepped onto the stationary wooden disc with Tommy and located two painted horses side by side.
So much for Brent Thomas, she thought. She didn’t need him or his stuffy ways.
At Tommy’s timid request, Darcy took the life-sized horse closest to the outside rim after helping him up on his horse. Perching atop, she drew one leg under her long, full skirt, as though she were riding sidesaddle. With one hand she held onto the metal pole securing the horse to the wooden dais and canopy, while smiling at Tommy and assuring him that the ride wouldn’t be a scary one. Pointing to the mirrored column in the middle, she got Tommy to laugh at the silly faces she made at her reflection. Darcy didn’t even bother to cast a glance Brent’s way, though she knew they were seated on the side where he and Joel stood.
The music of the carousel grew louder as the wheel slowly began to turn and then pick up speed. Darcy clutched her other hand around the pole, holding on for dear life. The cool breeze created by the wheel’s movement brushed her face, and any apprehension she had fluttered away.
Suddenly carefree, she plucked off her wide-brimmed hat to let the wind cool her sweat-dampened hair. She laughed, trying to pick out the faces of those who stood watching the carousel spin. But the whole world was off balance, and such a feat proved impossible.
“Grab the ring, Miss Darcy!” Tommy squealed, pointing to a striped pole standing near the carousel. Several gold rings—a little larger than bracelets—hung from a protruding rod at the top. “If you get one, you win a free ride.”
“How do you know?” Darcy asked.
“Mr. Larkin told me. Grab the ring!”
Spurred by the boy’s excitement, Darcy nodded. With the next revolution, she spotted the candy-striped pole. However, stretching out to retrieve a ring seemed not only impossible but dangerous. Her gaze dropped to the unforgiving hard ground spinning crazily under the edge of the rotating platform. She tightened her grip on the pole. “Aaaee,” she cried softly.
“You didn’t try for the ring,” Tommy said, a pout in his voice.
Darcy took a deep, steadying breath and straightened, waiting for the carousel to take them around again. This time she focused on the top of the pole, refusing to look at the ground. With the brim of her hat securely tucked beneath one knee, she kept her hand solidly fixed around the pole and leaned as far as she could toward the outside, stretching her other hand toward the ring.
“Miss Evans!” Brent’s shocked voice came from somewhere within the revolving blur of faces. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Her fingers just brushed the metal ring as the carousel took her out of its reach. Now determined, she tightened her grip on the pole and moved farther up on the horse, using her other leg to anchor her to a semikneeling position. The pole came in sight. She slid her hand farther up the slick rail, braced herself, and leaned as far over as she could, her upper body hovering above the ground. Her hat suddenly went sailing into the crowd of onlookers, but her fingers connected with cold metal. She locked her hand around the link and tugged, elated when she came away with the gold ring.
“You did it, Miss Darcy, you did it!” Tommy cried.
A burst of applause from behind almost unseated her. Once she’d settled onto the horse again, she looked over her shoulder. A man with a mustache and dark windblown hair leaned against one of the horses and smiled at her with amused approval in his eyes. Recognizing him as the carousel operator, Darcy hurriedly turned face front.
Her cheeks burned when she remembered the antics she’d gone through for the silly ring. Definitely not in any way ladylike—and what’s more, Brent had witnessed the outrageous display. And her hat—her fashionable new blue hat that she’d paid seventy-five cents for! By now it was probably trodden underfoot.
This ride seemed to last longer than the ones she’d watched from afar; and when the carousel finally came to a stop, Darcy was sure the extra time had been deliberate. Especially when the carousel worker sauntered up to her painted horse with a sly smile and extended his hands.
“Need a lift, Miss?”
“No, I’m fine—oh!” Her words shuddered to a stop when she felt his big hands clasp around her middle and swing her off the horse’s painted back to settle her on the wooden planks.
His smile grew more personal. “That gold ring is worth a free ride, you know.”
Irritated, Darcy awkwardly sidled past him, the ring clasped to her breast. “Yes, thank you. Another time. Come along, Tommy.” She held out her hand to help him down.
“The ride isn’t to be missed in the moonlight,” the carousel operator called after her. “Come back after dark. There’s a full moon out tonight.”
Darcy ignored him, heat singeing her cheeks. She still felt a bit dizzy from the ride and clutched Tommy’s hand hard as they made their way off the carousel. Tommy looked back at the man, then at her, but he didn’t say a word.
Before she could find a familiar face in the crowd of onlookers, Darcy felt her arm clasped from behind.
Brent’s eyes were stormy. “And just what was the meaning of that foolhardy exhibition?” He kept hold of her upper arm.
She held up the gold ring. “I won a free ride.”
“And you decided to risk life and limb to do so?” he asked incredulously. He shook his head. “Your behavior was appalling; the example you set for the boys atrocious.”
Darcy wondered why he was so upset. True, she’d acted a little carelessly, but she’d done a lot worse in the past and never seen him so angry. She forced herself to remain calm. “You’re absolutely right, Guv’ner. I did act without thinking. I apologize.”
He snorted, something out of place for the proper Brent, and stepped closer. “Who was that man ogling you? What was that all about?”
“Man ogling me?” Darcy uttered in surprise, marveling that he should care. “What man?”
“Don’t play coy with me, Miss Evans. I distinctly saw him manhandle you and lift you off that horse.”
“Oh, you must mean the carousel operator.” She dismissed him with a toss of her hand, though the sudden pounding of her heart belied her indifferent attitude. Could Brent’s uncharacteristic behavior actually mean he was jealous? The surprising thought greatly appealed to her womanly ego, and she couldn’t help but stoke the fire a bit. “He was just a kindly gentleman helping a lady, is all, and trying to be friendly. Why, he even suggested I take a ride by moonlight,” she couldn’t resist adding when she saw his eyes narrow. “I have a free one coming, you know.”
“Darcy Evans, you steer clear of that carousel worker. He is anything but a kindly gentleman. His kind is after one thing and one thing only. You must guard your reputation and be careful around these carnival workers—in light of your job at the Refuge as a guardian of young boys, of course.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. Did Brent realize he’d said her first name? Offense quickly replaced wonder when she weighed his words. He must have very little faith in her judgment, telling her whom she wasn’t to associate with—as if he had the right! Did he truly think she couldn’t see beyond the carousel operator’s wily charm and familiar ways? Daily, she had come up against much worse on the streets of East London and knew how to watch out for herself. Suddenly angry, she glared up at him.
“Mr. Thomas, I don’t believe I care for your supercilious attitude. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find me hat.”
Brent didn’t release his hold. Darcy turned, intending to break away, take Tommy, and stalk to the opposite side of the carousel. What did the boys think about their schoolmaster’s bizarre display? And he had the audacity to complain about her behavior?
Her equilibrium still unsteady, Darcy teetered and suddenly found herself pressed against Brent’s chest and in his arms. Staring up at him, she blinked in surprise. He looked down, evidently just as shocked as she.
“Miss Evans, I. . .” His hesitant word
s trailed off. His gaze magnetized hers and then lowered.
All anger dissolved. She parted her lips in expectation, her pulse rate quickening. His hold tightened, and his piercing blue gaze lifted from her mouth to roam her face. Electric seconds passed, the noise of the crowd vanishing to a muted roar in Darcy’s ears. She felt suspended in a fantasy world where everything faded to the background—everything but she and Brent.
“I don’t remember what it was that I wanted to say,” he whispered, his absorbed expression proof that he was also caught up in whatever held her spellbound.
She lifted her hand to the back of his neck, exerting pressure downward while raising her face to his. Before their lips could touch, he straightened and released his hold on her.
“Miss Evans, you have my most sincere apology,” he said, his voice sounding thick. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Darcy’s heart teetered from the clouds and made a fast spiral to the bottom of her chest. Before she could recover, Tommy’s high-pitched voice shattered the air, and his hand insistently tugged at her skirt.
“Miss Darcy! Where’s Joel?”
Ten
Brent and Darcy stared at one another in shock. Brent was the first to move. “He couldn’t have gone far in such a short time.”
However, a thorough search of the immediate area did nothing to produce the boy. “You take Tommy and tell Michael what happened. I’ll start looking for Joel in that direction.” Brent motioned beyond the carousel.
Darcy nodded and hurried toward the hippodrome with Tommy. Brent scanned the crowds in front of each makeshift building and tent. Where could the boy have gone? It had been a mistake to bring him, but of course that was all water under the bridge now. Joel’s disappearance was Brent’s fault, but he refused to visit that place in his mind. Refused to visit any thoughts that led him to Darcy Evans. He still felt rattled that he’d almost kissed her! Brent shook his head. They must find Joel before he escaped. Where would the boy go? Where would Brent run to if he were Joel?
Heart Appearances (Truly Yours Digital Editions Book 560) Page 11
