A beautiful grin spread across Elara’s lips, and without further fuss, he guided them to the entrance. Once they cleared it, Constantine’s suspicions of a carnival were confirmed. Vendors selling puppets, toys, and colorful trinkets were everywhere,along with extravagant food stalls, entertainers, and wandering minstrels playing lively tunes on their instruments throughout the sprawling gardens.
Constantine could not help but enjoy himself as he let Elara lead him, first to one vendor, then to another. He bought tiny, colorful cakes for her, and his heart skipped a beat when she bit into one and moaned with delight. He did not even protest when she asked him to get more to take home, and he had his footman bring back an entire box to the carriage.
Soon, he found her excitement contagious, and instead of trying to keep her by his side, he let her lead him by the hand from one spectacle to another. First to the many vendors, then to a puppet show. From there, she led him to a small concert of violinists among the colorful lily beds, then she pulled him excitedly through the crowd to a section near the gladiolas where many large portraits of flowers, fields, and forests stood on easels for everyone to see.
Unlike Elara, however, it was not her beauty at the event that captivated Constantine. It was her reaction to it that he found truly awe-inspiring. It made him wonder what his life would be like if he abandoned his prejudices and devoted more time to making her happy. He became consumed by thought, feeling torn between the wariness of doing so and the surprising urge to do exactly that.
“What are you making such a face for?” Elara asked. “Do you not like the art?”
“What do you mean?” Constantine then realized he probably looked quite bothered, and quickly smoothed his expression into one of casual indifference. “The art is fine,” he replied, glancing quickly toward the nearest painting.
It was a large-scale, up-close painting of a rare pink violet. The colors were explosive on the canvas, but what he was drawn to more was the shape of the flower’s petals toward its center. It reminded him of the beautiful way Elara’s sex had parted for his tongue.
The thought made his face grow hot, and his cock once more stir in his breeches. He quickly looked away from the painting and pulled out his pocket watch, needing something, anything, to distract him from his pervasive thoughts.
“The fireworks should be starting soon,” he stated, seeing that, to his surprise, it was already almost ten.
“There are fireworks?” Elara gasped.
Again, Constantine’s heart flipped at her sense of wonderment.
“Vauxhall has them every Friday and Saturday night at ten this time of year,” he answered, offering her his arm. “You truly did not know that?”
Elara shrugged, her smile fading as she looked down at their feet.
“Caroline and I saw them occasionally when we climbed onto the roof of my house, but we did not know where they came from.”
As they walked toward the grassy meadow where staff were handing out blankets for viewers to sit on and watch the show, Constantine glanced down at Elara.
“I had no idea your brothers kept you so sheltered,” he confessed. “I mean, you told me they were overprotective of you, but this is a bit much.”
“They were worried about me,” Elara replied, glancing up at him with a look of fondness in her eyes. “Papa died when I was quite young. I barely remember him anymore. But my brothers took it upon themselves to assume his fatherly duties. They would take me on walks. Both on promenades at Hyde and at our estate in the country. They would take me for ice cream and treats. But they were treating me as if I were fragile when it came to anything else.”
Guilt crept through his chest. She had touched briefly on her brothers’ overprotective nature at the races, but he had not realized how deep it went.
“That sounds quite suffocating,” he admitted.
Elara waited to answer as Constantine saw to acquiring a blanket and a picnic basket.
“It was quite boring as well,” Elara agreed as he joined her again. “But you must know what that feels like.”
Constantine gave her a puzzled look.
“Why do you say so?” he asked, and he was rewarded with the beautiful sound of her laugh.
“Come now,” she goaded, nudging her elbow into his. “No one who is settled hosts the elaborate sort of parties you did before we were married.”
Constantine’s lips parted as a smile drew up on the right side of his face. “You were able to determine that, were you?”
Elara clucked her tongue as she gave him an impish grin.
“It was quite easy to deduce,” she replied, “You had fire eaters and acrobats at your last soiree for heaven’s sake.”
Constantine let out a genuine laugh at her implied tone.
“I confess, you are right,” he then said with a dramatic sigh. “Without having Augustus to keep out of trouble, my life grew dull. So I replaced that excitement with rather wild parties. However, they quickly lost their appeal. People had loved them, though, so I still hosted them.”
“Yet I heard some people say that you rarely attended them.”
