Selina was here? Colin scanned the crowd seeking out the woman he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. The same woman who fired his anger and his passion. A flash of blond hair caught his attention. Was she really having her fortune told? Based on her frown, she didn’t seem to care for what the old woman was telling her.
“And who might you be staring at, North?” Middleton asked.
“The fortune-teller.” He looked away from Selina to avoid any further probing questions from Middleton. “Shall I have my future foretold to me?”
“I highly doubt that charlatan can read anything,” Middleton said. “Look at that poor girl’s face. She looks like she might just cry.”
Colin glanced back at Selina and noticed that she did indeed appear visibly upset by her encounter with the old woman. Should he confront Selina and ask her what was wrong? He shook his head. That was the last thing he should do. She was a strong woman who could take care of herself . . . and everyone on his estate. Far better than he could.
Still, he felt a need to be there for her. Watching her rise from the chair across from the fortune-teller, he made a quick excuse to his friends and started walking toward her. He could hear both men chuckling behind him and for once, he didn’t care. She needed someone to talk to and maybe she would want to confide in him.
He cut her off as she attempted to cross the road to get to the church. Clasping her elbow, he led her to a quieter area away from the crowd. “What’s the matter?”
“How dare you just . . . just . . .” Her voice trailed off as her chin quivered.
“What happened with the fortune-teller?”
Immediately, her face hardened and all visible signs of her distress vanished. “Nothing happened. The woman is a liar.”
“Then why did you look so upset?”
“I did not look upset. I just don’t appreciate paying someone to lie to me.”
The breeze brought the fragrance of her lavender soap toward him. Once again, he felt his body react to her nearness. This was madness. He could not be attracted to her. Yet, no matter what his mind thought, his unruly body rejected the logic.
“What did she say?” he finally asked her.
“It matters not.” She blinked a few times as if still holding back tears. “She is a charlatan.”
He led her toward the stream where few people roamed. “Then why does it matter if you tell me?”
Her green eyes widened. “Because you of all people would only laugh and ridicule everything she said.”
Was that what she thought of him? He would mock her because of the old woman’s tales? “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Of course you would.” She turned to walk away. “Me, a great lady,” she mumbled as she moved, “that is an impossibility.”
Colin watched as she returned to her friends but her words wouldn’t leave him. What had she meant by what she’d said? Had the fortune-teller told her that she would be a great lady?
“Perhaps there is only one way to find out.”
He strode toward the old woman’s table only to find a young woman leaning in closer to the fortune-teller as if she couldn’t miss a word. The fortune-teller’s black and gold turban bobbed as she nodded in reassurance to the younger woman. The medium glanced up and noticed him waiting for her.
“That is all I see,” she abruptly told the younger woman.
“Thank you, Madame Czerwony. I will take your advice to heart.”
“Of course you will, Miss Reilly. Run along, now. I have an important man to see now.”
Miss Reilly turned and gaped. She curtsied quickly and said, “Your Grace,” before dashing from the table.
“Your Grace,” Madame Czerwony said softly. “Why are you here this fine afternoon?”
Colin walked to the table and sat in the deserted chair. “I would like to know what you said to a . . .” How could he describe Selina to this woman? “. . . a friend of mine. It upset her greatly.”
“I do not believe it is any of your business.”
“She is my . . .” The words trailed off.