When the witch turned her watery gaze on May, Mr. Tumblestone renewed his protests against the sinful activity. “You will not gain a cent from me, you old crone. So stuff your filthy hand back into your skirts.”
A wry, otherworldly smile creased the old woman’s features. May had the grace to give the poor soul a gracious nod before letting Tumblestone lead her away.
“Perhaps we could move farther away from the farm animals,” Lillian suggested. “The smell is disgusting.”
Before the group could agree on a new activity, the old witch hobbled up and wrapped her withered hand around May’s arm. The woman’s wild gaze was a frightening sight.
“It is dangerous to pretend to be something you are not,” she hissed the words before anyone could come to May’s rescue. “You would be wise to cease playing such games, dearie—especially with yourself.”
Chapter 12
The witch vanished into the crowd. Her departure left May gaping like a fool. The old woman had voiced the words she had refused to let her own heart speak for far too long.
She was pretending to be something she wasn’t.
“Did that gypsy harm you?” Radford had cupped her cheeks and crouched slightly so he was eye level with her. His fingers gently traced the line of her jaw.
“What?” May felt suddenly overwhelmed by his close, masculine presence. “I am fine.”
“She doesn’t look fine,” Wynter said.
“She is fine,” Tumblestone argued. With a heavy hand, he yanked May away from Radford and hooked his arm with hers. “This is nonsense, I say. Utter nonsense spouted by a crazed crone. I do not like the atmosphere here. It is not a proper place for a young lady. I demand we return to Bath at once.”
That was the last thing May wanted. To return to Bath would mean her adventure with Radford would end. Her return would put her in a position where she felt compelled to accept Mr. Tumblestone’s suit.
It is dangerous to pretend to be something you are not.
They should return as soon as possible. To pretend she was a lady—to pretend she was someone Radford could love was dangerous. She could lose her heart if she wasn’t careful.
“I would like to stay.” The stubborn words rolled off her tongue despite all of May’s good judgment. “We have only just arrived, and there is still so much to see.”
She should enjoy the afternoon. What else did she have to lose when Radford already owned her heart . . . whether he wanted it or not.
* * * *
Lady Lillian was refined, young, and hailed from a good family. She was everything Radford wished for in a wife. It wasn’t as if he really needed to like the girl. He lingered behind while watching Lillian and Iona flit through the crowds from stall to stall, admiring the simple wares and buying whatever made them smile. Iona had locked arms with May and dragged the elfin princess along with her. May rarely smiled as they shopped. Though she admired many swaths of colorful, exotic fabrics and volumes of battered old books, she never once opened her reticule to make a purchase.
After a while, the group wandered back out into the field where the gypsies had made their camp. Some passing acquaintances had mentioned a collection of antiques for sale from the mysterious lands of the East.
The trail to the battered wooden caravan led them down a dusty path where tall grasses reached out and brushed against their legs. Lillian, the fair-haired beauty who perfectly suited him, whimpered with every step. She despaired over the dirt clinging to her gown until Radford begrudgingly agreed to lift her into his arms.
May uttered no such complaints. For a woman who admitted to being frightened of animals and uncertain of what to do in the wilderness, she plodded through the tall grasses as if her small body was made to spend long hours strolling in the out-of-doors.
Strands of her amber hair slipped from their pins and hung loose down her back. Her straw bonnet sat askew on the top of her head, bobbing with each step. She was truly a creature of the earth. Perhaps she did have a touch of gypsy blood in those veins. Perhaps that was why she’d been able to bewitch him with those haunting eyes.
His desire for her was strong enough to make him rethink his values. A man in his position could use a solid woman like Miss Sheffers as a mistress. Having her by his side would make him a better man.
What could be the harm with that? He would take care of her and protect her from leering old men like Mr. Tumblestone.
“Oooo,” Lady Lillian squirmed out of his arms. “They are lovely.” Her eyes glistened at the sight of three unusual figurines on a small table in front of a colorful tent. They were crafted from the finest bone china.
For once Radford had to agree. The figurines, a trio of wood sprites, were frozen forever in the middle of some pagan dance. Heads thrown back, limbs light and jaunty, and gowns flowing, they appeared to be moving to some ancient tune in the liquid-smooth china.
Radford studied them while sneaking glances toward his own personal mystical creature. All three smiling faces were the very image of Miss Sheffers.
“They are quite well made,” he commented. He picked one up, turned it over in his hand, and stroked the figurine while thoughts of Miss Sheffers tripped through his mind.
She leaned forward and peered at the figurines. A broad smile brightened her features at the sight of the fairy creatures.
A naked longing lurked deep in her eyes and could not be overlooked. Had she seen something in the way those figurines danced freely? Did she too long for such freedom? Perhaps she too saw the image of herself in their lovely faces.
“They remind me of an amazing woman I happened upon not long ago on Beechen Cliff,” he said just loud enough for her ears. “She possessed a spirit as free as these imps, do you not agree?”
“I am sure I don’t know what you are talking about, my lord,” May said, her entire being bristling. She didn’t step away, though. She continued to silently admire the small statuettes.
“Perhaps one day you will let your hair down and dance with such abandon for me?” He knew the suggestion would scandalize her, but he could not stop his tongue. Goading her prudish façade proved far more enjoyable than any thoughts of restraint.
She slanted a questioning glance in his direction. “You mock me,” she whispered. With a single step back from the gypsy’s treasures, May tried to fade into the surroundings.
Well hell, that was the last thing he wanted her to do.
“You don’t have to run away,” he turned around and said to her.
Mr. Tumblestone inched closer to May in an overt show of ownership. His glare fixed on Radford. An unspoken challenge lay on the ground between them. Radford had a mind to stand up to the old fool and win May for himself.
It took Lady Lillian to remind him of his duty to both her and his mother. She tugged on his arm and pouted prettily.
“What is it, my lady?” he asked. Heaven help him, Lillian’s neediness tried his patience.
“I have spent all my money,” she said softly. She wrinkled her button nose and batted her long lashes. “Oh la, and I simply adore those figurines.”
Radford patted the hand she had latched onto his sleeve. “It is never wise to make your selection before considering all your options.” His gaze unwillingly traveled to May.
Her ribbons were drooping. Her curls were fast becoming a riot of tangles. And she was glowering at him with the most honest expression of dislike he could ever hope to see. All and all, he found her quite irresistibly adorable.
“It is unwise to ruin your one chance for happiness by acting rashly, don’t you agree?” he said.
Lady Lillian’s frown deepened. “But, Lord Evers, you could buy me the figurines if you truly wished to.”
He had a feeling his wishes didn’t merit in this case. His feelings would never merit when it came to Lady Lillian. She was a selfish child.
Not a woman prepared to . . . to . . . what did he expect from marriage other than children?
In trying to hide from
a future with a leg that would never heal, he had failed to picture his life in the years and decades ahead of him. What would he want from a wife?
“I will buy you one of the three, my lady, to teach you a lesson. You cannot always have what you want. Sometimes you have to make a choice. I wonder. Which one will you choose?”
“You are a tease, my lord,” she purred. The perfect coquette, the lady literally dripped with sensuality.
Oddly, her charms bored Radford. He watched with disinterest as she lifted each figurine and explained what about it she simply adored. Lady Iona joined in the fun.
Wynter wandered off in search of more interesting entertainments while Lillian remained undecided.
May battled a tiny baby goat that wanted nothing more than to eat the silk flowers stitched into the hem of her gown. Her nudging the little brown and white scamp with her gloved hand only made it more determined to play with her. She let slip a husky laugh when the little guy rammed her leg.
Tumblestone ruined the fun. He swung his stout leg at the playful beast and would have struck it if May hadn’t put herself in his way. The toe of his boot struck her shin.
She rubbed her leg and laughed off the pain. But there was a definite limp in her step when she clapped her hands and chased the little goat back into the field.
Radford ground his jaw, aching to kick that bounder Tumblestone a few times in her defense. He couldn’t, though. His interference wouldn’t be welcomed or appropriate. Miss Sheffers had already made her feelings abundantly clear. She wanted nothing to do with him.
But what did she want?
Certainly she couldn’t seriously be considering marriage to a man like Tumblestone. He was too old, too staid for her. Such a marriage would break her spirit. Her rare smiles had grown strained and her unpredictable personality had turned subdued after only a few hours in his company.
“This one.” Lady Lillian held up a figurine. The porcelain wood sprite was curtsying with her head thrown back in a laugh.
“Very well,” he drawled. He considered offering to purchase one for Lady Iona as well, but she had wandered away from the figurines and was busy speaking with one of the gypsy traders about a necklace with a large purple gem. Wynter had joined her and looked prepared to guide the lady in her purchase.
Radford had no wish to leave without the other two wood sprites. As unbelievable as it seemed to him, the lithe figures charmed him.
“And you, Miss Sheffers, what do you wish for? Do you by chance long for one of these treasures?”
She appeared startled by the question. She quickly blinked away a sheen of tears and turned away.
He’d expected her to tell him his charity was unwelcome, though he had secretly hoped she would beg prettily for the pair of fairy figurines. Never, not in a world of possibilities, had he dreamed she might grow misty-eyed.
“It is getting late,” she said, refusing to answer his question. “Aunt Winnie will be worrying after me.”
“Very well.” He paid for Lady Lillian’s present and offered the simpering miss his arm. As they worked their way through the crowd, Radford could not keep his mind off the two stranded figurines.
May deserved to own them.
They were nothing more than a pair of simple baubles—naught but toys for adults. He must have lost his mind.
“Please excuse me a moment.” He unhooked his arm from Lillian’s. “Wynter, please look after my sweet confection,” he said and graced his companion with an indulgent smile. “I believe I see an old acquaintance. I won’t be but a minute.”
“But I would like to meet—” Lady Lillian started.
Radford pressed a finger to her lips. “Not this time.”
“Don’t be too long, Evers,” Wynter said rather impatiently. “We’ll wait for you at the landau.”
With a jaunty step, which was quite a feat considering the pains in his swollen foot, he returned to the gypsy caravan and purchased the two remaining figurines. A gift, he thought. Surely there was nothing improper with him wanting to give May a symbol of his gratitude. She had talked him into using his cane.
That blasted cane. He dearly wished he’d overcome his pride and brought it with him to the fair. His concern over what Lady Lillian might think if she saw him constantly dependant on it had stopped him.
“Buying your intended the other two ornaments, I see.” Tumblestone fell into step with Radford.
“Something like that,” Radford muttered. Gentleman or not, he had no desire to converse with the old farmer. “Where is Miss Sheffers?”
“She was happy giggling with those two silly hens. And I wanted to have a word with you in private.”
“Indeed?” Private wasn’t an accurate description of the crowded Widcombe Commons they were crossing. “Wynter said he would look after all three of them? I’ll owe him for that. He is a bachelor who enjoys his women, but not all at once. And definitely not the marrying variety.”
Tumblestone chuckled. “S’pose I envy him. We’re on the same quest, you and I. Here we are, two confirmed bachelors, and now marriage looms heavy on the horizon, does it not?”
“Family responsibilities require it.” Radford stiffened. He had no desire to have this discussion with Tumblestone. Morbid curiosity forced him to ask the question though, “Why would you wish to change your ways?”
“You could say the right offer came along.” A curious expression darkened Tumblestone’s stark features. He had the smug look of a man emerging from a gambling hell with his pockets filled with blunt and a deck of marked cards tucked up in his hat.
“I see,” Radford drawled.
“I am afraid you might not,” Tumblestone said. “I have watched the way she looks at you.”
“The way she scowls, you mean?” Radford used his devil-may-care tone. He’d spent many years perfecting his roguish manner and could call it up at will. “Miss Sheffers would wish to curse me, I’m afraid.”
“You don’t believe that, do you?” For a thunderous moment Tumblestone reminded Radford of his father. He half expected the man to cross his arms and sigh. “She has developed feelings for you, the foolish girl. I don’t appreciate your encouraging her unschooled impulses. I don’t know what you have in mind, but she will not be your mistress.” Tumblestone raised a large fist. The old man possessed a workman’s strength and could no doubt hold his own in a fight.
Radford had no desire to test his mettle. “You mistake my intensions, sir. I do not even find the imp attractive.”
“Forgive me, my lord.” Tumblestone backed down immediately. Apparently the frosty glare and the little lie did the trick. “I meant no disrespect. Just—and I’m sure you can understand—I am unable to give Miss Sheffers the discipline she sorely needs until after the marriage. I must woo her . . . win her trust. But she is such a flighty, empty-headed chit. She sorely tries my patience, I’m afraid. Fortunately, there is nothing about her that a heavy hand cannot correct.”
Merciful Heavens. And Radford had been worried about Tumblestone breaking May’s spirit? She’d be lucky not to be physically broken after just a few months living with this monster.
Chapter 13
“Please tell me you have some news for me about Miss Sheffers’ situation,” Radford said in place of a greeting as his man-of-affairs hurried into the study with a bundle of papers tucked under his arm. After having suffered a sleepless night, he’d sent a messenger to fetch Bannor at first light.
He had to stop May’s marriage plans. He simply had to. If not for that blasted eviction letter, she wouldn’t have given a man like Tumblestone the time of day. She was an independent woman, lively and vivacious.
The simplest solution to her problem was the very one that had kept Radford from finding sleep. Not because it was impossible, nor because it tossed logic out the window. Just considering it made his blood race.
He could marry Miss Sheffers.
“I wasn’t able to uncover much about the young miss, my lord. But I did learn some
interesting things about her family.” Bannor adjusted the glasses on his nose and settled into a chair. He took his time organizing the papers in front of him on the desk.
Radford had too much energy to sit still. Leaning on his cane, he paced the length of the room. His patience quickly ran thin. He didn’t have time for Bannor’s efficiency. “Well? Don’t hold me in suspense. What have you found, man?”
Bannor fiddled nervously with his glasses again. “Just-just a couple of wills.” He scrambled his papers in search of a particular sheet. “I don’t have a copy of the documents, mind you. Just pieces of gossip from a boy I hired to glean information from the servants working at Redfield Abbey.”
“Redfield Abbey?” Bannor’s thoroughness impressed Radford. He wouldn’t have thought to send someone to snoop around the Earl of Redfield’s servants.
“Yes, my lord. I hope you don’t mind,” Bannor asked nervously.
“No, of course not. What did you find?”
Bannor cleared his throat. “Appears the Redfield ladies and the current earl rarely see eye-to-eye. When the earl severed ties with his youngest sister for marrying without his permission, his grandmother wrote him out of her will. She left her small fortune instead to this sister.”
“And this sister is—?” Radford asked.
“Lady Viola, Miss Sheffers’ mother. I still haven’t been able to uncover why these funds have been recently seized by the courts, but I have a niggling feeling the earl is responsible.”
“Keep working on that, then.” Radford resumed his pacing. “And what else have you discovered?”
“Another interesting story. The earl’s mother is still alive. And though very old and feeble by all accounts, she still possesses her wits. Not long ago, she and the earl had a falling out, and she changed her will, leaving Lady Winifred all her worldly possessions.”
“All her worldly possessions? And what would that entail?”
The Sweet and Spicy Regency Collection Page 12
