“Papa, Uncle Warwick won’t let me have more toffee!” Beth ran up to them, legs pumping, arms waving.
“Cad!” Cam picked her up and threw her into the air, making her squeal. “Shall I thrash him for you?”
“Yes.” She had a wicked little smile on her face. “No.” Her entire body wiggled as she sighed. “He did let me have fudge.”
“Which your mother and I told you not to have more of?”
She looked at him from under her lashes.
“You know your aunties have been trying that particular look with me for many years don’t you, Beth. It never worked.”
The little girl simply smiled. Cam settled her against his shoulder as they walked.
“Come, we will attempt to get the blood flowing through my veins once more. God’s blood, the day is bleak,” Cam shuddered. “I hate this indecisive weather. Let there be sun or rain, not this miserable sleet and hovering gloom.”
“It gets into your bones,” Kate said.
The fair was stretched around the edges of the huge courtyard. Part was cobbled and part grassed, and it was here a fire roared, around which people warmed themselves. It really was an impressive sight, especially as the castle stood sentry behind them. Flags fluttering, doors thrown open for those needing to venture out of the conditions. Huge torches flamed in sconces. A wreath of greenery, nuts, and red satin bows hung from one of the huge front doors.
“But seriously, Cam, it seems a foolish time of year for a fair.”
“If they hear you say such a thing, you’ll be run out of town. It has been taking place for hundreds of years.”
“Oh, well then, I suppose I can understand tradition as much as the next person.”
“That’s the spirit.” He squeezed her hand. “But I must warn you to stay away from the kissing booths. Sweet young thing like you will be roped in to participate—all for a good cause of course.”
Kate laughed. “Don’t tell me…. The kissing booths are tradition?”
“Indeed they are. Mrs. Radcliff has manned one since she was a young lass; she’s now nearing eighty.”
“I was actually coerced into it earlier by James.”
“Well then, keep your lips pressed together, and take a deep breath before the kiss, as I cannot vouch for the odor of those who will be in your line.”
“Charming. Good Lord, what does James have on his head?” Squinting through the gloom, she watched James approach. He wore a long black coat, and on his head seemed to be some kind of bird attached to a band. He had his daughter Isabella by the hand. A beauty like her mother, she was smiling, unlike her father.
“A raven.” She heard the laughter in Cam’s voice. “As the current duke, he must wear it. The last headwear that James’s grandfather wore was much less conspicuous, so I’m told. Just a simple black band with a discreet black feather. But no one can locate it. So this one doesn’t get lost, Dev and I put our heads together with the local seamstress and came up with that.” He pointed at the bird wobbling about on James’s head. It was black, as they were, and its beak the same, although she thought a bit longer, and she could see a white eye.
“Oh, you are a naughty man, cousin.”
“Yes, well, must dash. I see Warwick speaking with the Beadle brothers, and that is never a good thing.”
“Why?”
“They’re trouble. I know this as their father was my friend growing up.”
Beth waved to Kate as Cam hurried away.
“Where is he going?” James said when he reached her. “I’ve already had words with Dev, Cam’s next.”
“Something about Beadle brothers. He ran that way.” She pointed in Cam’s direction. “I like your hat. Hello, Isabella.”
“Papa doesn’t like his headwear, Kate.”
“Don’t you start in on it, Bella,” James said, but he followed the words with a kiss on top of her head.
“It’s quite fetching really,” Kate said, holding in her laughter.
