~ Ten ~
MR. BERNARD HOLLAND was not a wealthy man. He had been cheated out of his inheritance when his father, an inveterate gambler, lost everything, and subsequently blew his brains out.
Thus, he had had to live by his wits and his instincts. He was acutely aware that he was gifted with a certain sensitivity, ‘gut feelings’ to be perfectly vulgar, he thought, but such feelings allowed him to protect himself.
At that moment, he felt as though he were being watched. He looked away from the path he was forging through the crowd and saw a beautiful young woman. He immediately recognized her from their encounter at the Red Lion, when he had taken steps to stop her from bearing down on Raphael’s wagon. Had she seen him with the Gypsy? He couldn’t be sure, but even if she had, she really knew nothing. He made up his mind to handle it head-on.
Before she could look away, he tipped his hat to her and allowed her a soft curve of his lips. He started moving in her direction and witnessed her panic as she turned and ran right into the Earl of Dunkirk’s arms.
Trouble lay there. The earl had a reputation of being handy with his fives, and Bernard had no wish to antagonize him. He ducked into the crowd and weaved his way to the back of the row of tents.
It was time he left and made his way back. He didn’t need anyone pointing fingers or asking questions; that wouldn’t serve his plans at all.
* * *
“Ho, m’sweet lass.” The earl held Bess in place as she plowed into him. “What is towards? Did ye miss me that much?” The tease was in his eyes as well as his voice, and Bess almost threw her arms around him and held him close.
Instead, she said, in a voice that was higher pitched than normal, “My lord, my lord.” She turned and frowned, for the fellow from the Red Lion was already gone. “That man … that awful man—he was there, right there, I swear it.”
“Which awful man, for if we are going to swear to things, I would swear there are many awful men parading about this carnival,” he said, and she saw he was trying to ease her tension.
“You must think me mad,” she said as she calmed herself.
“I think ye are the most adorable lass of my acquaintance, but something has upset ye. Why not tell me what it is?”
“It was just that I was so surprised when I saw him, that I must have stared, and he caught me staring, you see. When he started for me, I … I—”
“Devil ye say!” snapped the earl, suddenly angry. “Who started for ye?”
“That man, the one from the Red Lion, remember? That absurd dandy fellow.”
He took her chin. “Ah, I should have taught the blackguard a lesson at the time.”
“My lord, there is something about him.” She bit her lip.
“What is it, love?” He slid her hand through the crook in his arm as he walked her slowly.
“Never mind. I am being silly.”
“I am persuaded ye could never be silly. What is it, Bess m’darlin’?”
“It is something about him—and I think he was talking to that Gypsy, the one at the Red Lion, though I can’t be certain. I didn’t see his face.” She shook her head. “It is no doubt just because the fortune teller got me rattled. She told me that I was in danger.”
“Did she, by God!” His lordship was clearly annoyed. “Well, perhaps I shall just go and have a word with the woman, scaring young ladies—”
She held his arm. “Oh, no, please do not. She meant no harm.”
“She frightened ye,” he said on a frown.
Lady Bess peeped up at his handsome face. She knew herself lost to this big and capable man. She said softly, “If she frightened me, ’twas my own fault. Please do not refine upon all this nonsense, for that is all it is. Come—let’s go join Donna and the boys.” Even as she said this to placate him, however, she didn’t believe it. Her instincts were on high alert.
* * *
“Bound to be dull work tonight,” Robby grumbled as he attempted to relax in his tight-fitting black satin dress breeches.
Fleet had returned to his friends’ establishment only to dine with them and then came back to Searington also wearing ball attire. He stood back now and burst into laughter, pointed, and said, “You look as though you were poured into those. You’d better talk to Byron and find out about that diet of his.” He proceeded to laugh some more.
Maddy leveled an ‘I am watching you’ look at the two young men, adjusted her mop cap on her short gray curls, and clucked her tongue before she returned to her knitting. “Tsk, tsk. Now, now, boys.”