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The next morning passed quietly enough. Lizzie kept expecting Frank or Jack to appear and announce that Ma Toomes had disappeared, however nothing occurred to disturb the harmony between herself and Benedict.

He nipped out early to get more meat bones for Sebastian. On his return, he fried some bacon over the fire and made them sandwiches from a fresh loaf he had purchased nearby. They drank tea, and over this simple meal he told her that he felt he had closed the chapter that was his prizefighting career with some dignity at least.

It was plain that Benedict did not anticipate being contacted again any time soon and considered this last appearance to have been a fluke occurrence and nothing more. Lizzie took a more optimistic view, but this she kept to herself, for she could tell it was something he could not allow himself to contemplate.

His feelings ran deep about his old ambitions, and she guessed he could not bear the disappointment if he allowed himself to grow hopeful. “Did you see any of your old boxing friends and acquaintances?” she asked.

Benedict swallowed his mouthful. “A couple. Dabney and Pfeiffer,” he elaborated, then no more.

“I’m glad you managed to display yourself to advantage,” she said, setting down her plate. “Your boxing could not fail to have impressed all who saw you.”

He smiled at this and reached across to grab her hand before kissing it and releasing it again. She fetched the fabric for the curtains and got to work, for the fair did not start until midday which gave her enough time to cut and sew at least one pair, considering how small the windows were.

By the time they walked hand-in-hand across the field toward the fairground at midday, she had cut out both pairs of curtains and started lining them. The fair at Putney was a weeklong affair, so she fancied she would finish her sewing before they moved onto their next engagement.

“How long will it take us to reach Oxford?” she asked.

“Oxford?”

“Yes, for Connie said the next fair was Banbury.”

“Is that where they’re headed?” Benedict asked without much interest.

Lizzie halted abruptly, forcing him to do the same. “Is that not where we are headed?”

Benedict shook his head. “We always go from here into Hampshire. There’s a fair at Andover we attend every year.”

“Hampshire?” Lizzie was dismayed. “But Connie definitely told me they were headed for Banbury the day after tomorrow.”

Benedict looked amused. “Do you think all the acts follow the same route, Lizzie? It’s obvious we would part ways at some point. We’re staying put here at Putney for the whole week. We’ll see them at the fair after that, or at some further point down the road.”

“But what about my job?”

“We’ll find you something else to do,” he shrugged. “Or nothing at all. I made a good sum of money yesterday, so we’re far from hard up. Our living costs are very low.” Lizzie could not hide her disappointment, and he slipped his arm about her waist. “This life on the road is all about change. Each fair is different. Besides,” he added thoughtfully. ”If you’re expecting a response from Maggie, it’s Andover she’ll expect us to be from mid-April.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Don’t look so glum. You’ll worry Sebastian.”

Lizzie managed a smile, for the dog was regarding her intently. She dropped her hand to stroke his head, and they passed into the busy fair.

Connie and Niamh were inclined to be philosophical about their parting of ways, but the twins were inconsolable, casting their arms about both her and Sebastian’s necks and wailing.

“But what will we do?” they demanded. “Without our protectors?”

“First Alfred, then Ada, and now Lizzie,” Connie said sourly. “I’m used to being left in the lurch!” She slammed the lid of a trunk, muttering to herself.

“Can’t you persuade the Toomes’ to change their route?” Niamh suggested, half in jest. “You got Benedict wrapped around your finger, sure enough.”

“I think they’ve been going to Andover for years and years from what he said,” Lizzie said mournfully. “I’m really going to miss you all.”

“It’s the nature of this life,” Niamh sighed. “With never the same view from your window one week to the next.”

“I don’t mind that part,” Lizzie said. “It’s people I miss, not places.”

The twins gathered around Connie. “Why can we not go to this Andover?” they clamored. “Then we need not be parted at all!”

“You want me to change my plans all on Lizzie’s account?” Connie demanded, looking incensed. “She’s hardly my Salome now, is she?”

The twins pouted. “Salome, Salome!” Ema sniped. “It’s is always about Salome!”

“After all, there is no Salome right now!” Zaya muttered.