CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The following morning, the house was alive with excitement as the entire party prepared to go to the fair in the local village.

Clarissa was excited about the fair and having the opportunity to spend time with Nicholas outdoors again. She longed to be free of the stuffy formalities of the manor house, and to enjoy walking about the village with new things to divert her.

She tried to tamp down the anticipation in her veins, mindful of her mother’s expectations. She knew that Nicholas would be leaving England soon. Perhaps she could indulge in some time with him now, but she would always need to remain on her guard. Nothing could come of their association but disappointment, and she was loathe to give her parents any more of that.

The village itself was beautiful. It was quaint, with rickety buildings dating back to the fifteenth century. The facade of many shops were from the Tudor period, with black wood criss-crossing over a cream backing.

The windows were small, tiny diamonds of light that sparkled in the bright sunshine. It was still terribly cold, and everyone was dressed warmly. The ground was covered in snow, but in the cobbled streets, it had mostly melted and been crushed underfoot.

Carriages and wagons lumbered through the streets with many villagers passing them by. Their party received a great many curious glances. It was clear that Lady Eleanor’s patronage was most welcome by the store owners, and she received many greetings as they walked through the town.

Clarissa was surprised to find that Lord Bolton was also greatly admired, and many approached to welcome him.

“He has done a great deal for the village,” Rosemary was saying with a fond smile. “He even paid for the church clock to be restored last year.”

“But surely he was not here at the time?” Clarissa asked.

“No, you are quite right. But Nicholas hired a solicitor called Mr Graham from the town. He is his particular associate, and everyone who requires attention knows to contact him. If Mr. Graham is unable to fulfill their wishes or help in his own right, he will apply to my brother. He sent him a letter from the local townsfolk last year, telling him that the clock had ceased to chime, and Nicholas spared no expense in resolving the matter.”

Clarissa’s heart swelled at the knowledge. He may be a rake, but he was also a man who cared deeply for his tenants.

Clarissa was swept away in the festive atmosphere of the village. The little green was peppered with snow, and everything all around it was very picturesque in the morning sun. The sight was most pleasing to the eye, and the entire scene reminded her of a Christmas card.

Clarissa had not enjoyed Christmas lately, but she was most excited to spend it in this beautiful little town.

The market had been set up some way ahead of them, and there were colourful stalls as far as the eye could see. They offered everything from traditional crafts to seasonal treats. Clarissa could smell roast chestnuts, and at one of the stalls, a man was selling homemade jars of jam.

A band was playing ahead of them, the lilting music spreading over the market and filling everyone with good cheer. They played hymns and carols, and Clarissa would have happily stood by and watched them all morning. She adored the sound of brass instruments and was astonished by the aptitude of the French horn player. His fingers moved so quickly over the keys she was captivated.

Clarissa, Emily, and Rosemary flitted from stall to stall, taking in the wares on display. Annie followed behind them, and Clarissa was determined to get her something before they left. Annie never spent much of her wages, sending it all home to her ailing mother, and Clarissa was certain she would like a gift for Christmas.

“Would you care to try some spiced cider, miss?” asked a man from behind one of the stalls. Clarissa laughed as Rosemary eagerly came forward to do so. She was so enraptured by the taste that even Emily wanted to try some.

Clarissa sipped the cider offered to her, feeling the spice run down her throat. It was warm and refreshing, and she smiled at the stall owner as she paid him.

They moved on, Annie mentioning how pretty some embroidered bookmarks were at one of the stalls. Clarissa would take no protests from her and bought five for her and her four sisters. Annie was most touched and smiled happily as she stowed them away in the bag that hung from her wrist.

As they approached a fortune teller's stall, Clarissa’s eye was caught by Lord Bolton at the other side of the tent. He was laughing with a group of children who had been enjoying a street performer’s magic act. He produced a coin from behind one boy's ear and then made it vanish. They were delighted by him.

He is such a contradiction, thought Clarissa as she continued to watch him. On the one hand, I know him as a philanderer, but on the other, he is a perfect gentleman. She shook her head, catching Rosemary's eye as she turned away and cleared her throat awkwardly at her knowing expression.

Clarissa was still attempting to keep her distance, but every time she was in his company, her heart yearned to be close to him. Fighting her inner affection for him was becoming increasingly difficult, and that frightened her more than anything could.

As the morning drew on, Clarissa found herself alone with Annie at one stall. It was selling beautifully crafted fans, and Annie was most excited by them. They were in every colour imaginable, and Clarissa was enchanted. She had far too many fans at home, however, and knew that she could not justify a further purchase.

As she stood there, a peculiar awareness came over her, and she turned to find Lord Bolton standing behind her. She had not expected to see him so close to her and she was so surprised she quite forgot to blush. It was a relief that she was able to retain her composure on a single occasion in his presence.

Her stomach rolled strangely as she took him in. There was something different about his expression. It was utterly unguarded and intimate, as though she was the only person at the fair. She felt the same dulling of her senses as they gazed into each other’s eyes, and she swiftly turned away.

“These are most beautiful,” he said of the fans, looking down at them appreciatively.

“They are.”

“Have you tried any of the roasted chestnuts?” he asked, and when she said that she had not, he produced a bag. He did not forget Annie, and both women took some of the sticky treats in their hands to taste them.

“You have my thanks, My Lord,” said Annie shyly, “they are very good.”

“I have not tried better, I believe. They are excellent. Are you enjoying the fair, Miss Crompton?”

Clarissa nodded. “Very much. I do so love this time of year.”

“As do I. There is even a lightness to the air, I believe, that is a contagion we all must suffer from. It infuses the mind. One cannot be unhappy at Christmas.”

Clarissa found herself smiling as she looked at the many people in their vicinity. He was right. The decorations on the trees and the merriness in the air were palpable.

“I have not attended a Christmas fair for many years,” Clarissa confessed. “I am sorry to have missed it. It is the best thing to do when it is cold outside. Have you tried the cider, my lord?”

“I have,” he said with a slight smugness to his expression. “I was also prevailed upon to order some for Lady Eleanor’s house. I believe I have been quite badly used by the owner, for he is a wicked fellow and would have me drunk from dawn until dusk.”

Both Annie and Clarissa could not help but laugh at that, and Clarissa imagined that cider would be very strong.

“Did you often come to the village when you were here as a child?” she asked.

“Not too often, I confess, but I am all the sorrier for it now. I did not recall it being so beautiful. Perhaps it is the time of year.” But once again, his eyes lingered upon her, and she could feel Annie glancing between them in excitement.

Clarissa looked out at the green, where some children had begun a snowball fight, and smiled at their shrieks of excitement.

She was far more comfortable conversing in the open, away from the heat and bustle of the manor. Although she had enjoyed her time with Lady Eleanor exceedingly, there was nothing quite like being out in the open. She felt far more relaxed with Lord Bolton here and was surprised to find how contended she felt at his presence. She wondered if such easy companionship between them might one day be commonplace.

She pictured them together in a different setting, walking through his local villages in Hertfordshire as man and wife. The thought was unspeakably foolish, but nevertheless, it persisted.

“There he is!”

Clarissa looked across from them to see Lady Eleanor and Lady Wilde approaching. Eleanor's brisk walking made everything seem urgent, so Clarissa watched her approach with trepidation.

“You have been hiding from me, nephew,” she said irritably as she reached them. “Are you enjoying the fair, Miss Crompton?”

“I am, Lady Eleanor, very much. Thank you for arranging this little outing.”

“Not at all. It is one of my favourite markets at this time of year. The variety of cheese they have on display are simply divine.” She rolled her eyes dramatically, and Clarissa found herself laughing. Sometimes, Lady Eleanor had just the same look as her nephew when she was being mischievous.

“My Lord, you must accompany me to the puppet show?” Lady Wilde stated boldly, stepping forward and looping her arm with his. Lord Bolton tensed visibly, his eyes flitting about their group swiftly as Lady Wilde preened beside him.

“Alas, my dear lady,” Lord Bolton said, extricating his arm with some difficulty. “I have already promised Miss Crompton I will take her to the show.”

Clarissa stared at him in amazement but quickly schooled her expression as best she could as Lady Wilde’s icy glare turned on her. Clarissa was caught between concern and excitement as Lord Bolton offered his arm, and she had no choice but to take it.

She knew very well that this would lead to gossip. Never had Lord Bolton made such an obvious preference for her company before. On the one hand, she was overwhelmed with joy that he would choose her over Lady Wilde and, on the other, terrified that the more time she spent with him, the deeper her feelings would become.