She pinned her gaze on Reed, and even he couldn’t escape the ghost that seemed to slide down his spine. “You have suffered great loss,” she said. “But also great gain.”
Goldie turned to glance over at him, her brows lifted high, but then just as quickly turned her attention back to the fortune teller.
“And you,” Madam Zeta directed her attention to Goldie. “Will be faced with a test. A test of courage. A test of faith. Your happiness depends on passing it.”
“What kind of test?” Goldie asked. “What will it be?”
Madam Zeta’s dark eyes shuttered and closed, and then she made a great show of distress before opening them again. “You were not to speak. But that is all the spirits have for today, I believe.”
“But what does it mean?” Goldie persisted.
“That is for you to discern. I am but a mere vessel.” Her accent sounded heavier than it had before.
Reed rose and tugged Goldie to her feet. She was looking confused and more than a little troubled, and damned if that wasn’t the opposite of what he wanted for her today.
He shouldn’t have agreed to this.
His goal for the day had been to put Goldie at ease, not add to her fear.
“That will be two shillings, my lord.”
My lord?
Even as he dug into a pocket, he frowned.
He was wearing his old and comfortable clothing—nothing that gave away his new status. Why would this woman think he was any different from all the other rabble coming through?
Goldie stood beside him, however, looking every inch the lady. He supposed that the fortune teller’s assumption about him came from the obvious status of his companion. Yes, that made sense.
She’d gotten lucky when she’d mentioned his loss—and his gain. It was vague enough that it could have applied to anyone.
“My apologies, Goldie,” Reed said after they’d exited the tent. “She upset you.”
Goldie laughed, but he didn’t miss the tremor in it. And then she shook her head. “It’s silly. I know. But what do you think she meant? I mean, if any of it was real.”
“She’s intentionally vague. You ought not to concern yourself with her ramblings. Let’s keep going.” And then he pointed toward one of the gaming vendors. “Shall I win you a trinket?” Reed was determined to get the afternoon back on track. He needed this young woman to agree to marry him. In order to do that, she needed to feel safe.
So for the next hour, with a good deal of laughter, Reed proceeded to drop enough money to buy at least ten prizes before he finally won her a delicate ring. It was nothing more than paint and paste, but after failing to win it herself, and then cheering him on, she squealed in delight when he finally managed to hit the target three times.
Rigged, of course, and all the more satisfying to have gotten the better of the charlatans.
It was ridiculous, but it was also inordinately entertaining.
The thought that mucking stalls with this woman would be entertaining flitted through his thoughts. Her comments were inordinately clever, and when she laughed, she made little hiccupping sounds, which made him want to make her laugh some more.
He touched her more than was strictly necessary, placing his hand on her waist and twice using his fingertips to brush her hair away from her face. When she spoke, he leaned in closer, drawn by more than her scent.
Simply… drawn to her.
By the time he began steering them back to the road where he’d arranged to meet the hackney driver, their mutual attraction now enshrouded them both like a tangible thing. Goldie’s eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed. She was deliciously attractive and, not bothering to contemplate his motivation, he swung her around a corner and pinned her against a brick wall.
She’d enjoyed their kiss the day before. As had he.
But he needed her consent to marry him. Normally he might have used more finesse, but time was running out.
Despite all these thoughts clamoring for his attention, when he stared into eyes swirling with browns and greens and golds, he was simply… lost.
She tilted her head back in invitation. Her kiss was his for the taking.
