Page 83

20

They did not reach Putney until long past four o’clock, and Benedict was restless by the time they turned their wagon down the lane that led to the heath.

“For the love of God, would you settle down, Ben?” his brother sighed in exasperation. “It’s your fault we’re so late, after all! You’re the one who insisted we went shopping.”

Jack spoke nothing but the truth, and the number of parcels bundled up in the back of the wagon bore testament to his words. Still, Benedict was itching with impatience by the time his brother set him down next to his own wagon.

“Will you come over to ours later to catch Frank up with how things went?” Jack asked as Benedict unloaded his parcels from the back.

“Will I be damned,” he muttered, jumping down. “I’ve better things to do. You can brag to him of your triumph all by yourself.”

“What of your win?” Jack asked with a grin.

“Jesus, Jack, he was nothing but an untried boy. That win was hardly something for me to brag about.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jack said slowly. “Nat seemed well pleased with how you handled it.”

Benedict shrugged. “I kept it clean and I didn’t humiliate the boy. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I still say you acted handsomely,” his brother insisted. “And I wasn’t the only one.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Benedict glanced over his shoulder, but no one was stirring from the direction of the wagon. Not even the dog. “I’ll bid you farewell now.”

Jack nodded. “I bet you do go and brag to Lizzie, all the same,” he grinned, and gee upped the horses before Benedict could respond.

Shaking his head at Jack’s nonsense, Benedict carried his packages over to the wagon and deposited them inside. A pile of crisp laundered washing was neatly folded on top of the nearest trunk, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the items strewn over the nearby bushes were also theirs.

Ben made his way toward them and found them mostly dry. To his surprise, most of the items there were his own. Gathering them up, he carried them inside and then started setting up the campfire. He would get things sorted here and then walk over to meet Lizzie at the end of her shift.

He soon had a pile of firewood ready. After collecting the water, he unwrapped the new set of steps he had bought, and he set them down next to the wagon. Having run through the list of tasks, he made his way toward the fairground where things appeared to be in full swing.

Glancing at his pocket watch, he thought it must be about time Lizzie was done for the day and made his way toward Connie’s tent. To his surprise, he found Lizzie already stood outside and in deep conversation with the redhead she had introduced him to previously.

Only Sebastian seemed to notice his approach, his tail thumping against the ground in a lazy wag. Quickening his pace, Benedict called out her name and saw his wife start guiltily at his approach.

“Oh, Benedict,” she said turning toward him with an outstretched hand. He grabbed it firmly and pulled her into his embrace.

“Has something happened?”

“Hmmm?” she gazed up at him.

He cast a glance over his shoulder toward the tent and found the redhead watching them with amusement. “You in Connie’s bad books again?”

“What?” she looked aghast. “No! How about you?” Her expression grew suddenly anxious. “It went off alright, didn’t it? The fight, I mean.”

He nodded. Had she been worried about him? And why did that make him feel warm all through? A smile tugged at his lips. “Couldn’t have gone better, actually.”

She sighed and gave him an answering smile. “That’s alright, then.”

He lowered his face to hers, couldn’t help himself. The kiss was tender and lingering. It didn’t belong in an open field, surrounded by crowds, but there was little he could do about that. When he drew back, Lizzie’s eyes were closed, and she swayed slightly in his arms. “You finished here?”

Lizzie blinked, nodded, and turned to wave at Niamh, who laughed and called something about a pair of lovebirds before pulling her shawl about her shoulders and setting off in the opposite direction.

“What were you two talking about that you looked so serious?” Benedict asked, pulling her arm through his. Sebastian trotted at their heels.

Lizzie’s color heightened. “I was asking her about Maggie,” she admitted in hushed tones.

“Maggie?” Whatever he had expected her answer to be, it wasn’t that.