“Oh, I know. Let’s go to the fair.” Juliet turned an excited grin on them, fairly bouncing in her seat. “I’m told there’s a fortune teller there. You can see her, and maybe she’ll tell you what you’re supposed to do.”
Olivia perked up at the idea and smiled aye her friend. “At the very least she can give me some guidance.”
Juliet had always believed in such things while Emma called them pure nonsense. Olivia did not hold any firm opinions about the unknown, but she did believe that some people were blessed with unique intuitions and abilities.
She believed it possible that the fortune teller could tell her something useful, leastwise, she was willing to reserve judgment until she’d seen the woman. What could it hurt?
“Perhaps,” Emma released Olivia’s hand with a sigh, “though it’s far more likely she’ll provide nothing more than a moments entertainment.”
Juliet glared at Emma for a heartbeat, then shook her head. “You needn’t always be so serious.”
“You well know how I feel about such things. I simply do not want to get Olivia’s hopes up.” Emma stood. “Shall we be on our way, then?”
Juliet stood then threaded her arm through Olivia’s and leaned closer. “Ignore her, there’s nothing wrong with hope.”
Olivia gave a slight grin not wanting to dampen Juliet’s excitement, but she well knew that Emma’s warning had merit. She looped her arm through Emma’s and gave a slight squeeze. “Regardless of how this turns out, I thank you both.”
As they made their way from the parlor, Olivia’s heart pounded, a mixture of foreboding and excitement turning her insides to knots. Even if the fortune teller had nothing good—nothing helpful to say—Olivia would escape the future being forced on her.
She had to. She’d not settle for any other outcome.
The fairgrounds were all a bustle with the local gentry and common born folks alike. Olivia’s heart fairly pounded free of her chest as she and her friends made their way through the crush in search of the fortuneteller’s wagon. They did not have far to go before they spotted it.
Olivia experienced a moment of hesitation as she stood before the brightly colored wagon with her friends beside her. What if the fortuneteller had nothing good to say? Could Olivia discount her words and move on? Or would they ring through her mind despite her efforts? Perhaps not knowing would be best.
A dark-haired woman with probing brown eyes appeared in the door. “Do not tarry, child,” she said as she stepped aside to allow them entrance.
Juliet nudged Olivia, setting her in motion. She took a few tentative steps then mounted the stairs leading into the conveyance. Juliet and Emma followed close behind her.
“Sit.” The fortuneteller indicated a bright velvet bench.
Juliet gave Olivia an encouraging nod while Emma gave a slight grin.
Olivia moved to the bench and lowered herself onto it. Emma and Juliet came to sit beside her, their hips pressed together so that they would all fit.
The fortuneteller sat on a bench opposite them. A small table stood between them with a deck of cards sitting nearest the woman. “I am Madame Zeta, and you are?” She smiled, her freckled cheek’s rising with the movement.
“Olivia.” She cleared her throat and said, “Lady Olivia Montague.” She glanced around the wagon at the brightly colored interior. It was unlike anything she’d seen before, though she found something about it inviting. The tension in her muscles waned as she returned her attention to Madame Zeta.
“I assume you are here to have your fortune told?”
Olivia hesitated for a heartbeat. She nodded, then reached into her reticule and produced three shillings. “Yes, please.”
The honey-skinned lady reached across the space and Olivia dropped the coins into her palm.
Madame Zeta tuned, dropping the shillings into a small box at her side. “Very good.” She reached out once more. “Give me your hand?”
Though Olivia’s pulse quickened, she did not hesitate as she turned her hand over and placed it in Madame Zeta’s. Something about the woman put her at ease. Perhaps her warm gaze or the intelligence she saw within it? Maybe the fortuneteller’s gentle smiles?
Made Zeta examined Olivia’s palm, then she trailed one dark finger across the lines of Olivia’s flesh. A warm tickle resulted, but Olivia held still and remained quiet.
“Your path is well defined but not so much so that it cannot be altered.” Madame Zeta’s gaze remained on Olivia’s palm as she spoke. “We all have a path to travel. The path of life. It keeps us steady come what may.”
Olivia nibbled on her lower lip as she waited for the woman to say more.
“You are facing a crossroad.” Madame Zeta met Olivia’s gaze.
Olivia swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “Yes.”
