“Practice is important,” Lady Emily murmured, still not moving her legs.
Callum darted a quick look in her direction, but her gaze remained on Peter. Had she even noticed they were touching? He’d no idea, but he hoped so since that surely meant she liked the closeness as much as he.
The possibility of such an occurrence danced through the air with the promise of something exquisite. He froze while the conversation continued around him. Of all the people in the world, he never would have expected to forge a bond with Lady Emily, yet here he was, happy with the intimacy they shared in this moment.
The carriage came to a halt and his thoughts on the matter scattered. Leaning forward, he opened the door so they could alight, ever conscious of the fact that she was becoming more important to him with each passing second.
* * *
The atmosphere at the fair was brimming with energy. It felt like all of London was eager to get out after the rain and had chosen to spend the afternoon here. Emily glanced around as they pressed their way through the crowd. A group of musicians who stood upon a raised platform were playing a lively tune with their fiddles.
Farther ahead was a tent with a sign that read,Hall of Mirrors. Another one promised a magical show while a third claimed it contained a collection of the bizarre.
“Look,” said Peter. “That man’s blowing fire.”
They stopped to watch and Stratton tossed a few coins into the man’s hat before moving on.
“This was a splendid idea,” he told her when they’d seen a bear perform a balancing act while a monkey played a trumpet. “Peter is having a marvelous time.”
What about you, she wanted to ask, only to shy away from the question. It felt too obvious, even though her decision to let his legs rest against hers in the carriage was even more so. She should have avoided the contact, but the discreet intimacy it had provided made her feel closer to him somehow, and she’d liked that.
“As am I,” she said, deciding to let him know she was glad to have made the suggestion. Raising her voice she asked Peter, “Shall we try to catch the next magic act?”
“Oh yes. Let’s.”
Peter started toward the tent but Stratton caught his hand. “Stay close. It’s a large crowd and I don’t want to lose you.”
Emily made sure Georgina was following close behind too before falling into step beside Stratton. When they reached the tent, Emily already had several coins at the ready.
“You did say I could pay the next time,” she told Stratton when he looked ready to protest.
He flattened his mouth, took a deep breath, and finally nodded, then gestured for her to precede him. She paid the fee and entered the tent where chairs stood in three long rows. Deciding a spot at the front would be best if Peter was to have a good view, she made her way toward the end of that row where a few spots remained vacant.
Arriving first, she claimed the seat farthest away while Stratton, who’d entered behind her with Peter, sat down beside her with the boy positioned between the duke and Georgina.
Emily kept her gaze carefully trained on the spot where she expected the magician to appear, but try as she might, she could not stop from wondering about their seating arrangement. Had he selected the chair next to hers on purpose? If so, why? What did it mean?
She shook her head. How silly she was being. In all likelihood, he’d merely taken the first available seat he’d arrived at. But why not suggest Peter sit between them? Or Georgina, for that matter?
Good grief. She’d drive herself mad if she kept cross examining every decision he made.
“I saw a bakery stand near the entrance with tables and benches in front,” Stratton told her. The length of his arm pressed against hers as he shifted closer. “Perhaps we can have a hot drink and some cake there after the performance. My treat.”
“Mmm…hmm…”
What else was she to say when the scent of him wafted around her? Lord, he smelled good – of sandalwood, fresh mint, and something exclusively him. Why hadn’t she noticed before? Perhaps because she’d been too busy cursing the constant disruption he’d brought to her life.
How foolish she’d been. How unfair and unkind.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a short and plump man announced. “Prepare to be amazed by the extraordinary, the marvelous, and the unique. I bring to you, the one and only, Jimmy Fortuno!”
Everyone cheered as a cloud of smoke appeared behind the announcer. And again when it faded to reveal a slim man dressed in black and scarlet. He proceeded to turn a collection of handkerchiefs into a bouquet of flowers before moving on to a series of card tricks. Most impressive, was a disappearing act involving a rabbit.
Throughout it all, Emily’s attention remained on the man beside her. Whenever he clapped, his elbow brushed hers, and as he angled himself to speak with Peter, she felt the press of his knee against her own.
By the time the performance was over, she was so hot and flustered over the impact he was having on her, she could barely breathe. What she needed was copious amounts of fresh air. Annoyingly, she noticed, he seemed perfectly fine. Nothing about him suggested he might be in need of smelling salts on account ofherpresence.
This made her curious. In the past, he’d always seemed slightly out of sorts whenever they’d come into contact. This well-composed version of him was something new altogether. She wasn’t entirely sure how to handle him not being clumsy and was almost relieved when he spilled the tea he’d ordered for her at the bakery booth a short while later.
