“Yes,” Goldie answered without hesitation. When would she have such an opportunity again? Likely never. She’d make the most of this magical day while she was out from beneath her father’s thumb.
Reed laughed softly, sounding indulgently amused.
Madam Zeta stepped backward. “Please, come inside then.” She gestured to her tent, which, unlike most of the others, was made up of very worn, very old-looking canvas. It was just tall enough for Goldie to stand, and Reed ducked in behind her.
Inside, more scarves decorated the walls. A round table sat in the center with three chairs. “What do we do?” Goldie asked.
“Clear your mind, my child, and sit.”
How was a person expected to clear their mind? Goldie glanced over at Reed, who shrugged.
This was going to be…
Fun!
Too Easy
Sunday morning, after learning of the task he was going to have to accomplish, Reed had not once expected he’d enjoy any of it. He’d walked away from the meeting dreading the scheme—for both himself and the lady he’d have to convince.
But showing Goldie around, by God, was… fun. Being with her didn’t feel like a task at all.
It had initially, when he’d made his first visit to the Duke of Crossings’ Mayfair mansion. But the more time he spent with Lady Gardenia’s younger sister, the more he enjoyed himself.
Goldie.
His enjoyment came from enjoying all aspects of her. Her personality, which surprised and delighted him, was as voluptuous as her figure. She exuded a welcoming sparkle tempered only by an inordinate lack of vanity.
And now he sat beside her in, of all things, a charlatan’s tent.
“Woo her,” Caroline had told him this morning. “Court her.” His sister’s advice, ironically, came easier than he’d imagined.
Because he liked indulging Lady Marigold Hathaway.
The fortune teller made an elaborate display of closing the curtains to the entrance and then wafting a dish of incense around them before taking her seat on the opposite side of the table.
“Are you going to use Tarot cards?” Goldie asked. Reed loved that she didn’t feign boredom or sophistication. And in this case, that her curiosity overcame any shyness on her part.
Madam Zeta shook her head. “I am going to seek your fortune in the glass.”
“Scrying,” Reed supplied, and the older woman shot him an approving glance.
“Yes,” the Romani woman confirmed as she slowly and ceremoniously drew the scarf off the table and revealed the glass ball set in the center.
“Oh,” Goldie exhaled, and Reed couldn’t help smiling. She shifted nervously, and Reed took her hand.
He’d held her hand earlier. It felt natural.
“Do you see people in it?” Goldie leaned forward. The ball was glass but not quite transparent. It was an ideal prop for creating an aura of magic.
“Visions,” Madam Zeta answered. “Now, you must be silent, so I can listen to what the spirits have to say today.”
Goldie nodded, looking as though she had another question, but then pressed her mouth together.
Enchanting.
The word drifted through his mind. Madam Zeta made a low humming sound, her eyes intent on the ball. Flames from a few candles reflected off the glass, and it seemed to heighten the woman’s focus. If nothing else, the older woman was an excellent actress. She would have had decades of practice, of course.
But then, a cool breeze wafted through the room, flickering the candles and stiffening Madam Zeta’s spine.
