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“Have you always lived like this?” she asked curiously.

“Since I was a lad. My grandfather started the act, but me and Frank took over as soon as Frank turned eighteen.” He could see her suppress further questions only with an effort. “I don’t get along with my father,” he said shortly.

She drummed her heels against the crate softly. “I’m an orphan,” she volunteered.

He already knew this but made no comment. “I went to prison for public affray. Did you know that already?”

His words seemed to take her aback. “Betsy did say something of that nature,” she admitted after a moment. “What happened?”

He shrugged. “Someone insulted me, it was just my bad luck the peelers happened to be around at the time.”

“Peelers?”

“Police,” he explained. Her lips formed a soundless ‘oh’. “It won’t happen again,” he found himself adding, though he was blessed if he could say why.

After a moment, she asked, “So, we will be touring now until November?”

He gave her a keen look, but her expression was guarded, giving nothing away. “How does that prospect strike you?” he asked keeping his own tone impassive.

“A little daunting,” she admitted. “But I am sure I will find my way.” To his surprise he found he believed her. “With time,” she added conscientiously.

He grunted, taking the newspaper from her and scrunching it up with his own and throwing it into a crate nearby that was being used to collect rubbish. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go get something to drink.”

Naturally, Lizzie chose ginger beer.

“What do you want to want to do now?” he asked casually. “Walk around the fair some more or go back to the wagon?”

Lizzie lowered her drink. “Go back to the wagon,” she admitted thankfully. “It feels like it’s been a long day.”

Benedict frowned. “You’re tired, then?” he asked.

She must have caught something in his tone, for she glanced at him in surprise. “Well, I would have thought that you must be exhausted after all those fights.”

“Not especially. I’m used to it.”

“Then,” she ventured hesitantly. “You wish to view more of the attractions?” He shook his head. “So, you also want to return to the wagon, then?”

He nodded his head. “Aye, but not to sleep,” he said gruffly. “I think it’s about time we got to know each other a little better, don’t you?”

Lizzie’s frown deepened. “I thought that was what we had been doing.”

He pulled a face. “Well, there’s getting acquainted and there’s getting acquainted.”

She exhaled noisily, coming to a complete halt where she stood. “You mean – ” She broke off to suck in a deep breath, glancing around her furtively before she spoke. “Do I take it you mean in the biblical sense, Mr. Toomes?”

“Call me Benedict,” he said catching hold of her arm and tugging her alongside him. There wasn’t enough room to spare for her to come to a complete stop. Not without causing a traffic jam.

“Is that what you mean?” She sounded so uncertain it was almost laughable.

“Of course, that’s what I mean.” He glanced her way and saw the stunned look on her face. “This surprises you?” he asked carefully.

“Well, yes, quite frankly!” she answered roundly. “I had no notion- that is, you have given no indication that you found the prospect even a remotely attractive one!”

“The prospect of bedding you?” he asked with raised brows. “I don’t know where you got that idea.”

“Well,” she spluttered. “I spent our wedding night on Mrs. Napp’s floor!”

He tipped his head to one side to regard her frankly. “That was a result of circumstances, nothing more.”