Chapter Eight
Excitement thrummed in the air the following evening at the village fair. Carriages lined the drive, ready to take the house guests for a night of revelry. Nora stepped inside a carriage with her mother and two sisters.
‘I hope they have cider and spiced gingerbread,’ Candace said.
‘I’d like new ribbons to match a few of my dresses,’ Sara said.
Nora leaned forward on the bench, practically feeling her sisters’ excitement. ‘I hear there is cake judging.’
‘Cake!’ Both Candace and Sara cried out.
‘Girls! Remember to act with decorum,’ their mother admonished.
By the time the carriages arrived at the edge of the village green, the sun had dipped towards the horizon, the last rays streaking the sky in soft amber and rose. Nora descended the carriage alongside her sisters to join the other guests and countryfolk.
The village green had shifted into its most magical hour and was abuzz with activity.
Lanterns floated like stars on strings above bustling stalls, casting golden light on the crowd.
Vendors sold everything from gingerbread and spiced cider to children’s toys, clothing, music boxes and trinkets, and paste jewels that looked real beneath the lamplight.
The scent of spiced ale, mincemeat pies, sugared nuts and roasted apples scented the air.
Children chased hoops between the stalls, dogs barked, and the mood of the fair was light with laughter.
Wide-eyed, Nora took in the scene, debating which stall to visit first. Candace was drawn to an artist as he sketched the figure of a young girl with a basket of flowers. Sara stopped by a stall selling ribbons in every colour of the rainbow.
Nora turned to spot the Earl of Ralston strolling alongside his friend, the Marquess of Adler.
Ralston, normally impeccably dressed, looked slightly different.
He’d loosened his cravat and his dark hair ruffled sightly in the breeze.
He laughed at something his friend said and, even though she was too far away to hear the sound, the change in his expression caused her breath the catch.
His attention turned to a booth selling children’s toys.
He picked up a miniature wooden train, running the tiny wheels across his palm.
She was fascinated by him. Just when she’d thought him uptight, he played with a child’s toy at a village fair.
At that moment, he looked up and noticed her watching him from across the square. His dark eyebrow arched in inquiry. Her face grew warm, and she quickly turned away, embarrassed to be caught watching him, and pretended to be interested in a stall selling colourful scarves.
A fiddler struck up a lively tune and a space was cleared for dancing. Villagers, young and old alike, twirled hand in hand as laughter spiraled into the night air. A young girl, no more than five years old with a smear of blackberry pie on her cheek, came up to Nora and took her hand. ‘Dance!’
Nora smiled. She needed a distraction, and the rhythm of the music called out to her. Taking the girl’s hand, she joined the revelers.
Ralston stood on the outskirts of the fair, watching the festivities. The amber light of the lanterns cast a glow on the dancers in the center of the square. Feminine laughter mixed with the strains of the fiddler.
He immediately spotted Nora at the center of it all.
She spun and caught hands with a neighbour boy before twirling away again, her laughter mingling with the others but distinct to his ears.
She wore a lavender gown, simple but well-fitted, and the reddish highlights of her hair shimmered beneath the lanternlight.
As she turned, her hem lifted just enough to reveal slender ankles and shapely calves.
He was struck by her gleeful enjoyment, her green eyes alight with absolute abandon and joy.
Ralston couldn’t tear away his gaze. There was something unguarded about her at that moment, just Nora Magarian, without pretense, who was enjoying all life had to offer. Young, beautiful, alive…yielding a siren’s power she didn’t know she held.
‘Careful. You look like a starving man.’
Adler arrived to stand by his side. Ralston barely gave him a sideways glance.
‘Is it that obvious?’ Ralston asked.
‘Go dance with her.’
‘I don’t dance at county fairs.’
‘Make an exception. Before a young, randy farmer does.’
Ralston did not need further encouragement.
He found himself at the edge of the circle of dancers.
The fiddler’s song ended, and Nora spotted him and approached.
‘Lord Ralston! Are you enjoying the fair?’ Her face was flushed from dancing.
Auburn curls had escaped from her ribbon in the evening’s humidity and brushed her slender neck.
‘I am, but you seem to be enjoying it more.’
‘I got caught up in the dance.’ Her eyes seemed to be laughing and he was entranced. Had they been alone, he’d sweep her into his arms and kiss her hard right here and now.
She tilted her head as she watched him. ‘You look a bit different tonight.’
‘How so?’
‘Your cravat is loose. Your expression not as serious.’
‘You believe me too serious?’ he asked, surprised.
Her eyes sparkled. ‘You are a politician. I’ve come to believe you are always thinking as one.’
No one had said that to him. Not even Adler. He’d never thought about how he acted in public. Perhaps she was right, and he was always thinking about his appearance.
Perhaps it was the magic of the night with the shimmering lanterns and laughing merrymakers. Perhaps he wanted to keep things light and make up for his behavior the prior evening after their discussion about Sir. Simon. Perhaps it was her.
Whatever the reason, he found himself holding out his arm. ‘Shall we stroll the fair together?’
Nora nodded then placed her hand on his sleeve. They walked towards the market stalls. ‘Since we are to wed, maybe you can tell me something about your life in London.’
‘What is it you’d like to know.’
‘Well, for one, tell me about your estate and home life.’
They passed several stalls, one that roasted chestnuts and another that sold colourful scarves. ‘My Berkley Square home has a full staff. It has been efficiently run by my housekeeper, Mrs Hanning, since I was a child. After we wed, you will be mistress there.’
Nora’s eyes widened. ‘Goodness, I know little about running a large home and will rely on Mrs Hanning for all matters of advice.’
He nodded. ‘She will gladly help.’
‘What of your country home? Is there one?’ she asked.
‘Yes, Ralston House is in Derbyshire and is over fifteen thousand acres.’
Her step faltered and he immediately reached out to cover her hand.
‘Fifteen thousand acres! I cannot imagine owning that much land,’
‘It’s been passed down for generations. I’m the sixth Earl of Ralston.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘I fear I’m dreadfully unprepared.’
‘I’m not concerned. Like I said, both homes have a full staff. And if you can find specific seashells among many on a Cornwall beach, then you have much more attention to detail than any lady I’ve ever met.’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘That is one of the kindest things you have said, my lord.’
‘Good. I must make up for my bad behavior from the prior evening when I told you to stay away from Sir Simon.’
She tilted her head back and laughed. ‘It was bad behavior. But forgiven.’
His heart hammered at the pleasant sound of her laugh. It wasn’t high-pitched, but husky and reminded him of long, lustful mornings they’d soon share after they wed. ‘Anything else you’d like to ask?’
‘Your bill to improve child labor. When will it pass?’ she asked.
This was a familiar topic. ‘Ah, passing a bill is a long process. It must initially have its first reading where debate is not usually allowed. Then the second reading where a full debate is expected. A final passing of the bill in the House comes later. Then it must go to the Commons.’
‘Surely it will pass.’
He did not want to ruin the light mood with talk of politics or his adversaries. Not when he was enjoying their time together beneath a string of lanterns at a festive fair.
They approached another booth. ‘Would you like to judge the pie competition with me? The Duchess asked me earlier. Her head housekeeper entered the contest with her blackberry pie.’
Nora’s eyes lit as she smiled up at him ‘Yes!’
He offered his arm, and they headed for a long table filled with pies of different flavours—apple, blackberry, strawberry, cherry and even rhubarb. The Duchess stood by her head cook, Mrs Hemsworth, and sampled her blackberry pie.
‘Delicious!’ the Duchess said.
Both Ralston and Nora were handed plates with samples of three different pies, including the head cook’s. The strawberry pie was Ralston’s favorite—sweet and crusty, he could easily eat more. Mrs Hemsworth eyed them, and both his and Nora’s forks froze in mid-air.
Nora tugged on his arm and when he lowered his head, she whispered in his ear. ‘I think it will be rigged in favor of Mrs Hemsworth.’
His lips twitched with the need to smile. ‘That woman could frighten Parliament and any seasoned politician.’
‘She may poison us at our next meal if we vote against her,’ she said.
Their eyes met in humour over their raised plates, and a sensuous glance passed between them.
Mrs Hemsworth cleared her throat, and the moment was lost. Their attention returned to her.
They filled out their ballots and stuffed them in the ballot box, then hurried off together.
Once they were out of sight, they both released laughs.
It was a rare moment between them, and Ralston watched as she wiped tears from her eyes with her sleeve.
‘That was unexpected,’ Nora said.
‘It was. Shall we walk more?’ Once again, he offered his arm, and she took it.
He didn’t want to leave her, not when the magic of the fair was still alive.
They were to depart for London tomorrow.
Too soon, everything would change. The atmosphere would not be relaxed.
The rules of polite society could be oppressive and there was much to do.
His work at the House of Lords would come first. Second, he had an upcoming wedding.
He had no intention of changing his daily routine.
He knew, looking at Nora now, under the twinkling amber lights, this was fantasy, not reality.
His past hovered deep in the recesses of his mind like a gloomy specter.
As his wife, he’d never open his heart to another.
He’d respect her, just as he’d expect her to respect him.
But he couldn’t let her in—he would never do that again.
Mutual distance would be easy to maintain once they were back in the city.
‘Nora!’ The shout pierced the night air.
Nora stiffened by his side and dropped her hand from his sleeve. ‘It’s my mother.’
‘You should go.’ Even knowing the fantasy had to end, he was reluctant for her to leave his side.
She raised thick lashes to look up at him. ‘I had a lovely time.’ Then, as if realizing what she’d said, she blushed and she quickly lifted her skirts and ran off to her family.
The moment was broken. He watched as she joined her mother, then was led off to catch up with her sisters.
Ralston reluctantly turned away. Not for the first time, he wondered at his fascination with her. It was too easy to forget himself when she looked up at him. It didn’t matter whether her gaze was inquisitive, flashing with anger or brimming with humour.
Turning away, he found Adler drinking a tankard of ale by a stall selling refreshments. Ralston paid for his own tankard and drank.
Adler gave him a sideways glance. ‘You may need something stronger than the ale.’
Ralton lowered the tankard. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight. Will you miss your fiancée? Once we return to Town, you will not be able to see the lady as easily as you can here.’
Ralston’s lips flattened at his friend’s comments.
Adler could be a nosy gossip. Still, Ralston looked across the green to where Nora stood with her mother and sisters.
Nora appeared in conversation with her parent.
Not for the first time, he realized it wasn’t just Nora he would be marrying; her family would become his own.
From the encounters he’d had with her sisters, he liked the ladies.
Nora’s mother, however, was still a formidable force.
Ralston’s jaw tensed when he thought of returning home. ‘London will come soon enough.’