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“Not so. If I could, I would gladly skip.” There. He’d done it. He’d made his first rhyme. And if it was slightly awkward, Andrew didn’t seem to notice. He only chuckled and looked over his shoulder.
Rhyming. Why did she have to choose rhyming?
Luca joined them and nodded to the road. “Let us be on our way, gentlemen.”
That didn’t require any sort of response from Simon, so he nodded and nudged his horse forward. They managed to ride quietly until midway to Lambsthorpe when Luca started asking questions.
“Last year, I was not here for the first snow. When does that usually happen?” he asked, his Sicilian accent as evident as ever.
“Sometimes as late as January,” Andrew answered. “But we’ve had a few storms and snowfalls around Christmas. Simon, when did we get snow last year?”
Simon did not grit his teeth. But searched quickly for a word. “December the twenty-eighth, if my memory is clear.”
“Yes, it was after Christmas.” Andrew sighed. “The children were happy it came before New Year’s. James left a window open in one of the guest rooms—you should have heard the housekeeper’s dismay over finding a snowdrift inside the house.”
Luca chuckled. “It seems your brother gets up to mischief of every kind.”
A strained smile was Simon’s best response for a moment, but Andrew changed the topic before Simon thought up an acceptable rhyme to comment on that.Only respond if you must, he reminded himself.
Their party’s arrival at Lambsthorpe did not set the town astir. Lambsthorpe was as old a village as the site of the castle, and it had always been inhabited by the families of those who owed their livelihoods to first the Earls of Montfort and then the dukes. It also served as the central place for all farmers and families within a five-mile radius to socialize, visit the market and shops, and attend church.
Even for all that, the village was small. A square of greenery with one large tree took up the center, with a main road and a second, smaller road on either side. In years past, the green served as a place for people to keep livestock safe and sound, where someone could always keep an eye out for thieves.
These days, the green was a place to have picnics and snowball fights when the weather changed.
Simon had always loved coming to the village. The people were familiar enough with the duke’s family to not be overawed by their position in society, which meant Simon and Andrew could misbehave and still be taken to task by the local baker.
The village bustled with people today. In and out of shops went men and women from all rungs of society. Simon and the other men dismounted before the inn and public house, which was the best place to tie their horses.
The women waited for Luca to open their carriage door, and he helped each of them step onto the street.
Simon exchanged a look with Sterling and the other two guards who had accompanied them. Sterling gave a nod. He would move the carriage out of the way of the main road, and his men would follow the ladies at a discreet distance to keep an eye on everyone.
Josephine and Emma would both be aware of the extra precautions taken, but Miss Frost would think the servants remained at hand to carry parcels and whatever bits and bobs the ladies purchased.
“Are you men going to wander off to do your own browsing?” Josephine asked, approaching Simon and Andrew to take her husband’s arm. “Or will you come with us to tell us how much certain fabrics and ribbons become us or match our eyes?” She fluttered her eyelashes at Andrew, who grinned unashamedly at her.
Miss Frost appeared at Simon’s elbow, smiling at the exchange. “They make a lovely pair.” Then she raised her eyebrows, though she did not once look at him.
He sighed. Of course she would test him. At least this was an easy one. “Yes, one can’t help but see their affection and stare.”
Her lips pursed. “Is that the best you can do?”
“I am terrible at poetry. I thought you knew.” She had fixated on the challenge quickly enough. Andrewmusthave told her. “I wondered who told you.” There. That rhymed too.
She started to snicker, then cut off the sound with a light cough. “Dear me. Well now. Remember, the moment you are caught, you must pay a forfeit.”
He gritted his teeth and nodded. Surely she did not need him to rhyme that. But she smiled up at him, the look full of false innocence as she batted her eyelashes, her dark eyes flashing with humor. Oh, she expected a response.
“Miss Frost, I am a man of my word, therefore you must give me some credit.”
She smirked. “That was a close one. Good luck, my lord.”
The women had decided to step into Wilson’s, a shop that contained bolts of cloth, hosiery, and everything related to gloves, hats, sewing, and anything else having to do with fabric. The men went across the way to the apothecary, who also sold tobacco, tea, and sweets.
The room smelled of herbs and wood polish, orange oil and tobacco. A heady mix of a thousand scents, some potent and some soft, filled the air so thickly that Simon always expected to see a fog creeping across the floor.
The shopkeeper and apothecary, Mr. Foster, hurried around his countertop to meet them. “Ah, welcome, my lords, Sir Andrew. What a pleasure to see all of you. How may I be of assistance today?” He looked directly at Simon when he asked.
