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‘That would be perfect. With you by my side, Mrs Wilkinson, I know I shan’t lose my way.’
‘I’ll tell Livvy to hurry up. She has lingered far longer than I thought she would. Portia and Stephanie went off to buy oranges over an hour ago.’
‘Rupert can look after your niece. He is quite safe.’
‘Are you sure? The memory of the card room lingers.’
‘He has grown on this trip. You must take my word for it.’
‘I shall.’
Kit called to Rupert and told him to take Miss Parteger back to her mother without stopping for refreshment on the way. His godson blushed a deep scarlet.
‘Very neatly done.’
‘I like to think so.’ Kit tucked her hand in the crook of his arm before she had a chance to pull away. ‘What is the wagering that they do stop? Maybe not for refreshment, but to watch a Punch and Judy show or one of the other entertainments?’
‘Just so you know, I never bet on a sure thing. It takes the fun out of it. Everyone should have a little romance in their life. It will be harmless.’
‘You surprise me, Mrs Wilkinson. I was willing to wager on you not understanding about young romance except I make it a policy never to wager on a lady, only with her.’
Her eyes turned cloudy and something close to sorrow tugged at her mouth. In that instant, Kit hated her late husband. Seven years and he retained a hold over her. ‘You are wrong about that. I understand about romance and its perils all too well.’
* * *
‘Is this the one you want? Now that we are finally here.’ Hattie held up a red-coated jumping-jack.
‘And whose fault is that?’
‘Yours, I believe.’ She gave a light laugh, basking in the warmth of his smile. ‘You kept seeing another stall you wanted to investigate.’
‘It has been an age since I’ve been to a fair. I wanted to make certain things were here.’
‘Including having a go at the ha’penny man?’
‘I did win.’
The toy stall had proved more difficult to find than she thought it would be, not the least of which Kit seemed intent on taking the most circuitous route. Not that she had strenuously objected. She had enjoyed talking with him and laughing. They seemed to share the same sense of humour. They were friends, nothing more. It could never be anything more.
She refused to go back to the girl she had once been, and in any case, Kit had been clear about his views on marriage. She wished that she could be like someone in Mrs Reynaud’s stories, but there were considerations. She shivered slightly, remembering how Charles’s mistress had said that they were more alike than she thought.
To banish the unwelcome memory she blindly reached for another toy.
‘Do you like this jumping-jack? Personally I think he has a roguish smile, just the sort of thing for a man like you.’
‘It will do.’ His hand closed over it. A sudden fierce longing crossed over his face. ‘The one I had as a boy had a dark-green coat with white trim.’
‘You must have loved it.’
‘It meant a lot to me once. It was about my only toy.’
Hattie’s heart bled for the lonely boy that he must have been. ‘Your only toy?’
‘My father didn’t hold with such things, but as it was a present from my uncle, he allowed me to keep it.’
‘Then it was good that you loved it so much.’
He tilted his head to one side. ‘I suspect you find it strange. But my father had his own views on life.’
‘Not at all. Just tell me that he died a lonely and bitter old man.’
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Why?’
‘It saves me from having to kill him. Children should have toys. There is time enough to be grown up.’
‘My father would not have agreed. Boys need to learn to be men. My father was a hard man.’
‘But you are not your father.’
‘I’m grateful you realise that. I try not to take after either of my parents.’
Hattie relaxed in the sunshine of his smile. A sharp longing sliced through her. If only... Hattie pushed it away. It was far too late for regrets. She was not the type to indulge in casual affairs of the heart. She had her responsibilities and duties to think about. This had to be the last time she indulged in a flirtation with Kit.
‘The jumping-jack will be a present from me,’ she said, taking control of the conversation.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Are jumping-jacks different than gloves?’
‘Jumping-jacks are better given as gifts. Every child since time began knows that. It adds to the magic.’
