Page 24 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

Nora turned to spot the Earl of Ralston strolling alongside his friend, the Marquess of Adler. Ralston, normally impeccably dressed, looked slightly different. He’d loosened his cravat and his dark hair ruffled sightly in the breeze. He laughed at something his friend said and, even though she was too far away to hear the sound, the change in his expression caused her breath the catch. His attention turned to a booth selling children’s toys. He picked up a miniature wooden train, running the tiny wheels across his palm. She was fascinated by him. Just when she’d thought him uptight, he played with a child’s toy at a village fair.

At that moment, he looked up and noticed her watching him from across the square. His dark eyebrow arched in inquiry. Her face grew warm, and she quickly turned away, embarrassed to be caught watching him, and pretended to be interested in a stall selling colourful scarves.

A fiddler struck up a lively tune and a space was cleared for dancing. Villagers, young and old alike, twirled hand in hand as laughter spiraled into the night air. A young girl, no more than five years old with a smear of blackberry pie on her cheek, came up to Nora and took her hand. ‘Dance!’

Nora smiled. She needed a distraction, and the rhythm of the music called out to her. Taking the girl’s hand, she joined the revelers.

Ralston stood on the outskirts of the fair, watching the festivities. The amber light of the lanterns cast a glow on the dancers in the center of the square. Feminine laughter mixed with the strains of the fiddler.

He immediately spotted Nora at the center of it all. She spun and caught hands with a neighbour boy before twirling away again, her laughter mingling with the others but distinct to his ears. She wore a lavender gown, simple but well-fitted, and the reddish highlights of her hair shimmered beneath the lanternlight. As she turned, her hem lifted just enough to reveal slender ankles and shapely calves. He was struck by her gleeful enjoyment, her green eyes alight with absolute abandon and joy.

Ralston couldn’t tear away his gaze. There was something unguarded about her at that moment, just Nora Magarian, without pretense, who was enjoying all life had to offer. Young, beautiful, alive…yielding a siren’s power she didn’t know she held.

‘Careful. You look like a starving man.’

Adler arrived to stand by his side. Ralston barely gave him a sideways glance.

‘Is it that obvious?’ Ralston asked.

‘Go dance with her.’

‘I don’t dance at county fairs.’

‘Make an exception. Before a young, randy farmer does.’

Ralston did not need further encouragement. He found himself at the edge of the circle of dancers. The fiddler’s song ended, and Nora spotted him and approached. ‘Lord Ralston! Are you enjoying the fair?’ Her face was flushed from dancing. Auburn curls had escaped from her ribbon in the evening’s humidity and brushed her slender neck.

‘I am, but you seem to be enjoying it more.’

‘I got caught up in the dance.’ Her eyes seemed to be laughing and he was entranced. Had they been alone, he’d sweep her into his arms and kiss her hard right here and now.

She tilted her head as she watched him. ‘You look a bit different tonight.’

‘How so?’

‘Your cravat is loose. Your expression not as serious.’

‘You believe me too serious?’ he asked, surprised.

Her eyes sparkled. ‘You are a politician. I’ve come to believe you are always thinking as one.’

No one had said that to him. Not even Adler. He’d never thought about how he acted in public. Perhaps she was right, and he was always thinking about his appearance.

Perhaps it was the magic of the night with the shimmering lanterns and laughing merrymakers. Perhaps he wanted to keep things light and make up for his behavior the prior evening after their discussion about Sir. Simon. Perhaps it was her.

Whatever the reason, he found himself holding out his arm. ‘Shall we stroll the fair together?’

Nora nodded then placed her hand on his sleeve. They walked towards the market stalls. ‘Since we are to wed, maybe you can tell me something about your life in London.’

‘What is it you’d like to know.’

‘Well, for one, tell me about your estate and home life.’

They passed several stalls, one that roasted chestnuts and another that sold colourful scarves. ‘My Berkley Square home has a full staff. It has been efficiently run by my housekeeper, Mrs Hanning, since I was a child. After we wed, you will be mistress there.’

Nora’s eyes widened. ‘Goodness, I know little about running a large home and will rely on Mrs Hanning for all matters of advice.’

He nodded. ‘She will gladly help.’