Page 100 of Four Promises to Love

Tansy considered his offer. “May I have anything I want?”

“Anything you’d like,” he promised.

“Hooray!” She threw her arms up in the air. “We shall be having a feast tonight! I’ll put these away, and we can be off!”

Snatching the bouquet from Finn, she dashed back into the house.

“Sorry—” Finn began.

Nell and Simon emerged behind her. The former gave Owen a shy curtsy while the latter stared somewhere beyond him.

Owen bowed. “Good evening to you both. What a fetching shawl, Nell.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she said with a blush.

“And Simon. If I didn’t know better, I would say those boots were made for you.”

Simon’s mouth curled into a grin just as Tansy bounced out and grabbed Owen’s hand.

“Let’s go eat,” she said.

“I am not Tansy, you know.”

Finn laughed as Owen returned from a stall with a paper twist.

“You need not stuff me to the gills,” she said.

“It would be my pleasure to stuff you⁠—”

Owen cut himself off, his face heating as he registered the inadvertently ribald nature of his reply. Hopefully, Finn would not notice.

“Why, sir.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Forgive me.” He cleared his throat. “I am out of practice.”

“You are doing splendidly,” she said.

“In that case, I’ll continue as I mean to go on.”

He handed her the paper cone, and her delight was infectious. He liked seeing her this way—happy and with her hair down, metaphorically as well as literally. He didn’t know whether it was the merriment of the fair or the time apart, but she seemed less guarded and more carefree. It was as if she’d shed the persona of Madame Seraphina and was allowing herself to be Finn.

“A fairing,” she exclaimed. “I adore these. This one is cut into such a pretty shape.”

“I chose it particularly for you,” he said.

He hoped the heart-shaped gingerbread conveyed his feelings.

She gave him a coy look. “Aren’t you worried that I might do this, my lord?”

With a snap, she broke off a piece of the biscuit.

“Ouch,” he said.

Giggling, she handed him a piece of the fairing. He bit into it, enjoying the crisp texture and gingery, treacly sweetness as he strolled through the square with his sweetheart. It was, he thought, a perfect setting for romance. The sun was setting, painting the sky in strokes of purple and pink. Excitement crackled in the air as folks explored the fair’s offerings. The village green and surrounding streets were crammed with stalls selling food, beverages, and a plethora of goods. Mr. Khan, the owner of the local bookshop, was selling stationery and his famous barfi, cardamom-flavored sweets soaked in honey. The greengrocer and his wife offered ripe fruits and vegetables. The draper’s stall was the busiest, with females of all ages vying for the attention of the dashing Mr. Duffield.

In addition to the local vendors, hawkers had come from neighboring counties to sell their wares, and the fairgoers were likewise a mix of locals and strangers. As with any large public event, there were some unsavory types. When Finn stopped to chat with Mrs. Thornton, a pair of ruffians standing by Mr. Thornton’s beer stand leered at her. Although she didn’t seem to notice, Owen moved closer, putting a hand at her waist.

They continued their way, keeping an eye on Tansy and Simon, who were inspecting every stall as if it was the first they’d seen. Nell met up with her beau and left with him to inspect the pens of livestock. Taking advantage of their privacy, Finn caught Owen up on the progress with the riddle.