Read Online Love's Tangle by Isabelle Goddard - Free Book Online Page B

everywhere. There was a time when the Allingham Fair was wholesome enjoyment but now every low criminal for miles around makes it their business to set up shop.”
    “It was only a piece of fun, Mr. Frant,” she protested.
    “But your face told quite another story.” She had to acknowledge he was right; she had been deeply scared.
    “You know, Nell,” he said confidentially, “you should not visit such people. They are all charlatans and want nothing but your money. I hope you did not pay her.”
    “Only a very little.”
    He wagged his finger. “Even a little is too much. And see the result—you have been thoroughly frightened by whatever nonsense she has told you. That is foolish, most foolish.”
    He might speak truly but really he was the prosiest of bores and she was tired of his censure. “I am sure you are right, Mr. Frant. But if you will excuse me now, I will look for my fellows and join them.”
    “It may be best if I stay with you until you have regained your equilibrium. I am happy to act as your escort.”
    “There is no need—I am perfectly restored. But thank you,” she added as she saw an expression of pique flit across his face. Before he could insist further, she slipped from his grasp and walked hurriedly away in the opposite direction.
    The fair was turning into a very bad afternoon. The jarring noise and coarse smells were stretching her nerves thin and Roland Frant’s persistence had left her drained. It had come too quickly after the unnerving encounter with the clairvoyant. She’d had to be rude before she could shake him off. She sank down at one of the tables trying to gather her wits. What had the creature meant with her talk of a pale woman in distress? When she’d repeated that word, Elinor had felt a physical pain shoot through her. And now she was supposed to save this poor unfortunate. It was a daunting imposition. But had the old woman in fact meant anything? Had she simply been enjoying her power to disturb, and the evident discomfort of her victim? That was the most likely explanation. She must not dwell any further on the words she’d heard but shrug them off for the nonsense they were.
    It was easier to say than to do for they echoed constantly in her mind. She sat immobile for minutes on end while all around the sounds of enjoyment seemed to come from a far off country. She was in a fair way to succumbing completely to the blue devils when a familiar voice hailed her.
    “The fair is supposed to be a merry event, so why so sad, Mistress Nell?”
    The duke stood before her, dressed in a close fitting coat of glistening blue superfine, his shapely legs encased in tight dove grey pantaloons and a pair of dazzling hessians, their little gold tassels swinging jauntily from side to side. She had never seen him look so magnificent. Somewhere his valet must be dancing a jig; twice in a week Summers had conquered the carelessness of his noble employer.
    She must have been staring rather too hard because he said, “One has to dress to impress at these affairs, Nell.”
    She pulled herself together. “You will certainly do that, Your Grace. Your boot tassels alone could buy the whole of this fair.”
    She hadn’t meant her words to sound quite so disparaging but he did not seem to notice. “And what about you?”
    “Me?”
    “Where is your dress to impress?”
    “Servants do not have such a luxury, Your Grace,” she said primly.
    “Now that’s where you’re wrong. I have just bid farewell to Mrs. Lucas who is looking most becoming in a peach satin turban. So where is yours?”
    “I do not possess one,” she said repressively.
    “Not a turban perhaps, but a dress rich in color. Any color but grey! It is not a flattering hue, though you look most comely.”
    She flushed with annoyance. He might be her employer, he might have taken her a little into his confidence, but he had no right to judge her choice of dress.
    “I do not wear grey to flatter myself, Your Grace, I