Misfortune
"Your First Kiss holds the answer to all that you desire." Tilde snorted with laughter as she walked out of the fortuneteller’s tent.
“Foolishness, Peaches, I tell you. Utter foolishness.”
Another chuckle followed her words. Tilde was aware she was more likely to be judged to be foolish, as she was currently talking to her dog. Peaches had been her small, short legged, long bodied companion for the past seven years. Her coat varied between reddish browns and blacks. The sweet pup barely weighed half a stone. Loyal brown eyes stared up at her in complete agreement. Tilde believed with all certainty that Peaches understood every word she said.
“All that I desire! Can you imagine, Peaches?” Tilde scoffed out loud.
But she could not prevent shelved memories from breaking through. She pondered the first time a man’s lips had touched her own. A very long time ago. Eleven years this spring, to be exact. At one time, the old woman’s words would have summoned tears.
Not that she’d been in love with him. Good Heavens, they’d only just met. It was just that she’d been so sure he was The One…
Perhaps she’d imagined the magic. Imagined the certainty that she’d discovered the man of her dreams.
“Hello, dog.” A shy voice drew Matilda’s attention back to the present. “Will you bite me if I pet you?”
Matilda smiled down at the young girl. “Her name is Peaches and I think she’d quite enjoy being petted by such a well-mannered young lady.” The child appeared to be five, maybe six, with long black hair and pale skin. It seemed to have taken a great deal of courage for her to make her request. “But, come, let’s step out of the path so no pedestrians trample us.”
Both Peaches and the girl followed Tilda as she led them to a bench beside one of the tents. The little girl but didn’t seem to know what she ought to do next.
Since the earth was dry, Matilda lowered herself to the ground instead of using the bench. She gestured to the child, who immediately dropped down beside her.
“Peaches, this is… Pardon me, we failed to make our introductions to one another. My name is Miss Matilda Fortune.” She dipped her head in lieu of dropping to a curtsey, since they both were sitting.
“I’m Lady Althea.” The child spoke the words timidly––to Peaches. Tilda’s brows rose both at the child’s shyness, but also at her use of a title. She ought to have realized by the quality of the child’s dress, as well as her formal manner, that she was no ordinary village urchin. Tilde glanced around and wondered where Lady Althea’s nanny might be. She hoped she didn’t draw anyone’s ire by sitting with the girl on the ground like this.
As soon as the thought came, however, she dismissed it. Children needed to be allowed to sit on the ground and play. They needed to be allowed to be children. Turning back to Peaches, she completed the proper introductions.
“You can touch her here.” Tilde rubbed the back of Peaches’ neck and lovingly worked her way down the dog’s long body. “She especially likes it because she cannot scratch her own back.”
Lady Althea raised her hands, and, in no time at all, was giving Peaches a glorious massage. When Peaches deigned to lick the girl’s chin, Lady Althea giggled.
“Where is your nanny, my lady?” Again, Tilde twisted her head around to see if anyone appeared to be searching for someone. If the child was lost, then someone would most certainly be looking for her.
“We don’t have a nanny anymore.” Lady Althea spoke without removing her gaze, or her hands, from Peaches.
“Did your mother bring you to the festival?” Tilde considered it highly unlikely that a peeress would attend such a common event.
But before Lady Althea could answer, a virtual duplicate of the first child threw herself onto the ground beside them. Lacking any of the shyness of her sister, the nearly indistinguishable looking girl began petting Peaches, who appeared to be in heaven.
“Althea! I’ve been looking all over for you! Is this your dog, Miss? Oh, he’s a fine little fellow.”
Lady Althea mumbled inaudibly. Her sister––she had to be her sister, or even a twin—seemed to understand anyhow.
“You aren’t a puppy, are you?” No shyness on this girl’s part. “What’s your name?”
Tilda drew herself up to her knees. If both girls were present, then somebody would soon find them. “Her name is Peaches. And yours? I take it you are Lady Althea’s sister?”
The second girl rose to her feet, all the while nodding. “I’m Lady Eloise.” And then she dropped into a perfect curtsey.
“I am Miss Matilda Fortune. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Tilde didn’t hold Lady Eloise’s attention for long, however. Without warning, the child sprang into action, shouting and waving her arms. “We’re over here, Papa! Come see, Thea’s found a dog!” With a sideways glance at Tilde, she added, “And a missus that owns it!”
If these girls were ladies, that would mean ‘Papa’ was an earl or a duke. Best not to be sitting cross-legged in the dirt while in the presence of his lordship. Unwinding her legs, and only groaning a little, Tilde pushed herself to her feet and then her full height. “They’re safe and sound. And, I imagine, chockfull of apologies for worrying you.”
She clasped her hands in front of her, happy at the knowledge that these two little girls were no longer unsupervised. Although the village was a small one, country fairs like this often attracted more than a few undesirable characters.
