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Lizzie stared. “Oh.” Reluctantly she sat back up and dragged the fussy nightcap off her head. Then she unfastened the end of her braids and ran her fingers through them until the hair hung about her shoulders and down to her waist in a straight fall of pale gold.

“You’ve a fine head of hair,” he said, and even he could hear the note of warmth in his voice.

“People always tell me I could sell it,” she agreed. “Once a lady approached my aunt in a book shop. She said there was enough for two wigs, but Aunt Hester said no, for it was my only beauty.”

He frowned at that. “You’re not to cut it,” he said abruptly. She looked at him consideringly, and when her cheeks filled with color, he asked, “What?”

“You kept your long underwear on tonight,” she commented. “Last night you slept naked.”

“Yes,” he agreed shortly. “You’ve had a busy day of it. I don’t mean to make any demands of you tonight, Lizzie.”

Her lips formed a soundless ‘oh’. “I thought it might be because we’d given a blanket to Sebastian and you were scared you might be cold.”

That startled a laugh out of him. “No. Come here.” She shuffled toward him on the mattress, and he curled his body about hers. “What do you think of the theatre?” he asked, looping an arm around her waist. “Do you enjoy it?”

“My uncle took me to see Androcles and the Lion for a birthday treat one year,” Lizzie answered.

“Never heard of it,” Benedict admitted promptly. Which wasn’t really saying much as he was no theatregoer, but Lizzie wasn’t to know that.

“It is a play written by George Bernard Shaw about Christian persecution during the Roman empire.”

“Sounds rather high minded,” he commented doubtfully.

“Not really, though it illustrates the Christian virtues such as charity and kindness to all.” To Benedict’s mind she was further illustrating his own point. “The only other thing I’ve been to see is the Christmas pantomime at Drury Lane last year, but it was a very rowdy affair, and my Aunt Hester was much shocked and said it had a low moral tone.”

Benedict suspected The Philmore Players probably had more in common with Drury Lane than George Bernard Shaw and promptly dismissed that idea. “What about dancing?” he asked instead.

“Country dancing, do you mean?” Lizzie asked. “I have not really had the opportunity in recent years.”

He thought she sounded a little wistful. “We could go,” he suggested. “Tomorrow night maybe?”

“Dancing?” Lizzie turned her head to look back at him with startled eyes. “Where?”

“Fiddlers Green. It’s a ballroom tent with an orchestra and a cold supper provided.”

“A ballroom in a tent?” Lizzie echoed.

“Should you like that?”

Lizzie bit her lip. “I can’t waltz,” she warned him. “Or do any fashionable dances like the polka.”

“It’s just for fun,” he shrugged. “No one’s there to judge you from the potted palms. Everyone’s just there for a good time.”

“I’ve nothing to wear beside my green taffeta.”

“So, wear your green taffeta,” he responded.

“And will you wear your black suit?”

“If you want me to,” Ben answered lightly. He didn’t really imagine paying guests got turned away due to any dress code at Fiddlers Green.

“Then yes, I would like to go.”

He gave her a slow smile. “Good, now go to sleep.” He reached across and turned out the lamp and then settled back against her back. They usually slept the opposite way around, he thought wryly, but Lizzie would not hug his back until she was out cold, so they would need to switch positions later.

When next he woke, sure enough, she was nestled against his back, her arm wrapped about his waist. He smiled and reached for his pocket watch balanced atop the nearest trunk. He could just about make out the figures in the gray morning light. He’d have to get up, he thought with a grimace. It was too damn tempting to lie like this for another half hour, but he didn’t want her to have to wash in cold water.

The dog – if that was what they were to call it – looked up when Benedict emerged and started gathering sticks for the campfire. Sebastian remained in his spot under the wagon but watched him assiduously. Once he had the fire crackling, Ben went to relieve himself and then to fetch water.