Mine Till Midnight (The Hathaways #1)(43)

It seemed the entire county turned out for the Mop Fair, which according to tradition had been held every October the twelfth for at least a hundred years. The village, with its tidy shops and white and black thatched cottages, was almost absurdly charming. Crowds milled about the distinctive oval village green or strolled along the main thoroughfare where a multitude of temporary stalls and booths had been erected. Vendors sold penny toys, foodstuffs, bags of salt from Lymington, glassware and fabrics, and pots of local honey.

The music of singers and fiddlers was punctuated by bursts of applause as entertainers performed tricks for passers-by. Most of the work-hiring had been done earlier in the day, with hopeful laborers and apprentices standing in lines on the village green, talking to potential employers. After an agreement was made, a fasten-penny was given to the newly hired servant, and the rest of the day was spent in merrymaking.

Merripen had gone in the morning to find two or three suitable servants for Ramsay House. With that business concluded, he returned to the village in late afternoon, accompanied by the entire Hathaway family. They were all delighted by the prospect of music, food, and entertainment. Leo promptly disappeared with a pair of village women, leaving his sisters in Merripen's charge.

Browsing among the stalls, the sisters feasted on hand-sized pork pies, leek pasties, apples and pears, and to the girls delight, "gingerbread husbands." The gingerbread had been pressed into wooden man-shaped molds, baked and gilded. The baker at the stall assured them that every unmarried maiden must eat a gingerbread husband for luck, if she wanted to catch the real thing someday.

A laughing mock argument sprang up between Amelia and the baker as she flatly refused one for herself, saying she had no wish to marry.

"But of course you do!" the baker declared with a sly grin "It's what every woman hopes for." Amelia smiled and passed the gingerbread men to her sisters. "How much for three, sir?"

"A farthing each." He attempted to hand her a fourth. “And this is for no charge. It would be a sad waste for a lovely blue-eyed lady to go without a husband."

"Oh, I couldn't," Amelia protested. "Thank you, but I don't ?

A new voice came from behind her. "She'll take it." Discomfiture and pleasure seethed low in her body, and Amelia saw a dark masculine hand reaching out, dropping a silver piece into the baker's upturned palm. Hearing her sisters' giggling exclamations, Amelia turned and looked up into a pair of bright hazel eyes.

"You need the luck," Cam Rohan said, pushing the gingerbread husband into her reluctant hands. "Have some."

She obeyed, deliberately biting off the head, and he laughed. Her mouth was filled with the rich flavor of molasses and the melting chewiness of gingerbread on her tongue.

Glancing at Rohan, she thought he should have had at least one or two flaws, some irregularity of skin or structure... but his complexion was as smooth as dark honey, and the lines of his features were razor-perfect. As he bent his head toward her, the perishing sun struck brilliant spangles in the dark waves of his hair.

Managing to swallow the gingerbread, Amelia mumbled, "I don't believe in luck."

Rohan smiled. "Or husbands, apparently."

"Not for myself, no. But for others?

"It doesn't matter. You'll marry anyway."

"Why do you say that?"

Before replying, Rohan cast a look askance at the Hathaway sisters, who were smiling benevolently upon them. Merripen, on the other hand, was scowling.

"May I steal your sister away?" Rohan asked the rest of the Hathaways. "I need to speak with her on some apiary matters."

"What does that mean?" Beatrix asked, taking the headless gingerbread husband from Amelia.

"I suspect Mr. Rohan is referring to our bee room," Win replied with a grin, gently urging her sisters to come away with her. "Come, let's see if we can find a stall with embroidery silks."

"Don't go far," Amelia called after them, more than a little amazed by the speed at which her family was abandoning her. "Bea, don't pay for something without bargaining first, and Win..." Her voice trailed away as they scattered among the stalls without listening. Only Merripen gave her a backward glance, glowering over his shoulder.

Seeming to enjoy the sight of Merripen's annoyance, Rohan offered Amelia his arm. "Walk with me."

She could have objected to the soft-voiced command, except this was probably the last time she would see him for a long while, if ever. And it was difficult to resist the beguiling gleam of his eyes.

"Why did you say I would marry?" she asked as they moved through the crowd at a relaxed pace. It did not escape her that many gazes strayed to the handsome Roma dressed like a gentleman.

"It's written on your hand."

"Palm-reading is a sham. And men don't read palms. Only women."

"Just because we don't," Rohan replied cheerfully, "doesn't mean we can't. And anyone could see your marriage line. It's as clear as day."

"Marriage line? Where is it?" Amelia took her hand from his arm and scrutinized her own palm.

Rohan drew her with him beneath the shade of a bulky beech tree on the edge of the green. Crowds milled across the cropped oval, while the last few swags of sunlight crumpled beneath the horizon. Torches and lamps were already being lit in anticipation of evening.