Chapter One
Lina ducked under her uncle’s outstretched arm and darted forward. Normally she was too quick for her lumbering relative, but today Uncle Tom had abstained from the drink that often addled his brain and slowed his body, so he caught her roughly by the arm.
‘One week, Lina. I want my money in one week.’
‘I’ll get you your money.’
She wriggled to get free, but his fingers were gripping her too tightly.
‘You’ll pay me one way or another, don’t you doubt it.’
Her uncle released her, but before Lina could escape to a safe distance his hand caught her wrist and gave one final warning squeeze, tight enough that Lina knew she would have bruises in the morning. Lina felt herself begin to panic as the pain mounted, then just as suddenly as he’d cornered her, Uncle Tom was gone. She had no choice, she would have to find the money she owed from somewhere, but right now she had no idea where.
As Uncle Tom scurried away Lina wondered at the furtive looks he was casting around him. He’d always been unlikeable and secretive, but never before had he threatened her as he had today. Quickly Lina hurried off in the other direction before he could change his mind and return to collect the debt there and then.
Not for the first time she cursed her impulsivity, the flaws in her personality that meant she found it almost impossible to say no when directly challenged. If only she had been a little more circumspect, a little more cautious, then she wouldn’t be in such trouble.
‘Tom giving you trouble again?’ Raul called as she ran past him.
‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ she lied, flashing her brother a dazzling smile and hurrying on. Raul knew nothing about the debt she owed Uncle Tom, nor the foolhardy bet she had made that had got her into this predicament. He’d saved her too many times from her own foolishness, this time she would figure out a solution without her brother having to swoop in and put things right.
Money. She needed money. One week wasn’t very long to raise ten pounds. Ten pounds—what had she been thinking? It was more money than she’d ever seen in her life and she’d tossed the figure out there as if it was a couple of shillings. She’d been so confident when they had passed the field full of wild horses, so sure that she would be able to coax and mount one of the magnificent animals, all she’d had to do was ride it the length of the field and ten pounds would have been hers.
Lina knew it wasn’t only her impulsivity that had driven her to shake Uncle Tom’s hand as he eyed up the frisky horses. Ten pounds would give her a new life, fresh opportunities, the chance to actually do something she wanted to do for a change.
‘Lend me a hand, Lina,’ Sabina called out as Lina wove her way through the crowds.
The whole family were working the Pottersdown Fair. A few of the older men, including Uncle Tom, were busy sharpening their tools and setting out the hand-carved pieces of furniture they were hoping to sell. The older women had set up a rickety table with jars of sweet jams and other tempting treats. Raul and the other young men had started to pluck away at their instruments, providing a lively tune for the villagers to dance to. Sabina, with her wide smile and fluttering eyelashes, was doing a great job of enticing the young men and women of Pottersdown to get a glimpse of the occult and hear exactly what their futures had to hold.
‘I was going to start the dancing,’ Lina fibbed, knowing Sabina wouldn’t let her get away with it.
‘Liar. I’ve got a queue ten people long, just see a couple for me.’
‘I’m not as good at this as you.’
‘Nonsense, you read people very well.’
It was true. The skill she didn’t possess was patience and you needed patience after the tenth twittering young girl had nearly swooned over the idea of being swept away by a tall, dark stranger.
‘It pays better than dancing,’ Sabina cajoled.
Lina glanced over to where Uncle Tom was now polishing a beautifully carved, small table and summoned up a smile for the customers. Telling fortunes wasn’t going to make her ten pounds, but it was a start until she came up with a more lucrative idea.
Sabina led the next young woman behind one of the screens, leaving Lina to greet a woman of about her age, dressed in clothes so fine Lina had to stop herself reaching out and stroking the immaculate silk.
‘Care to hear your fortune, miss?’
The young woman laughed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, as she tugged on the sleeve of a gentleman standing a few feet away.
‘I know exactly what my future holds,’ the young woman said. ‘But I would like to hear what my dear brother has to look forward to.’
Lina watched as the gentleman in question turned slowly, looked her up and down and then raised an eyebrow in question to his sister.
‘Oh, please, Alex? It’s just a little fun.’
‘It’s nonsense,’ he said, starting to turn back to the conversation he had been conducting before his sister interrupted.
‘For me, Alex.’
The gentleman sighed, the long-suffering sigh of a put-upon sibling, and grimaced.
‘Come on, then, let’s get this over with. Impress me with your insight.’
Lina felt herself bristle at his tone and offered her sweetest smile.
‘Step this way, sir.’
Guiding her new customer behind one of the screens, Lina watched as he took a heavy coin purse out of his jacket and handed her the fee. For a moment her pulse quickened, hearing the money jangle as he tucked it away again.
Despite the bad reputation gypsies suffered in England, and indeed across Europe, Lina had never once stolen anything. Just because they say we’re thieves doesn’t mean we have to actually be thieves, her mother had told her time and time again. Proficient at pickpocketing, a skill Raul had taught her not long after she’d started to walk, Lina had never put the training to use.
‘A little about the present first,’ Lina said, looking up at the gentleman from under her long eyelashes. ‘Would you tell me your full name?’
‘Surely you’re meant to be the one with mystic powers.’
‘I tell fortunes, I don’t divine names,’ Lina said shortly, smiling to soften the ice in her voice.
‘Lord Whitemore. Alexander Whitemore.’
A titled gentleman. He probably wouldn’t even miss the money in that purse, it would be small change to him.
‘An influential man, Lord Whitemore,’ Lina said, injecting the silky, dreamy quality into her voice the customers seemed to like so much. ‘A man of responsibilities. You have an estate to run and a sister to care for.’
‘She’s good,’ Lord Whitemore’s sister whispered in his ear.
‘Nonsense. Anyone with half a brain knows a titled man will have an estate to run and you shouted out to the whole fair that I was your brother.’
‘Shall we see what else my half a brain can determine?’ Lina asked.
Lord Whitemore grunted, turning back to her, but allowing his eyes to roam around the rest of the fair.
‘I already know you’re short-tempered and grumpy,’ Lina said, eliciting a laugh from Lord Whitemore’s sister. ‘But I think that is a front, a facade you put up to keep people at a distance. There’s been heartache in your past, a woman.’ Lina paused, but knew she couldn’t help herself. ‘Someone in love with your warm and friendly demeanour?’
‘Indeed,’ Lord Whitemore murmured, looking at Lina properly for the first time.
‘She left you. A wife?’ Lina watched carefully for his reaction. The twitch just above his left eye gave her a clue. ‘No, a fiancée.’
‘I thought you were meant to be telling my fortune.’
‘Your future is affected by your past.’
‘Just get on with it,’ Lord Whitemore grumbled.
‘You’re bored,’ Lina said.
‘How could you tell?’
‘Not now—with your life. You’re stuck in a rut and you don’t know how to get out.’
Taking hold of his hand, Lina made a show of tracing the lines although they meant nothing to her. The skill in telling fortunes lay in reading people, in understanding their facial expressions and reactions.
‘There will be change soon, a great adventure, a new love. Someone who will challenge you.’
‘See, Alex, there is hope.’
The withering look Lord Whitemore directed at his sister wasn’t lessened when he turned back to Lina.
‘Is that everything?’ he asked, standing up.
From the corner of her eye Lina saw the outline of the coin purse inside his jacket and knew soon the opportunity to raise the money to settle her debt would be missed. She hesitated, hating the gnawing pain in her gut, knowing that she would never be the same person again if she did pick this man’s pocket.
‘Do tell your friends to visit us,’ Lina said, stepping forward and pretending to trip over an exposed tree root. She careened into the solid body of Lord Whitemore and slipped her hand into his jacket. Her fingers closed around the soft leather of the purse and for a second she hesitated before withdrawing her hand and patting Lord Whitemore on the chest with her open fingers. ‘Sorry, how clumsy of me.’
His eyes met hers and Lina had to look away as she realised he’d known exactly what she had been up to. Only his confusion on finding his purse still full and in the correct place lightened Lina’s embarrassment a little.
* * *
‘Your trouble is you’re bored, Whitemore,’ Mr Richard Pentworthy, Alex’s brother-in-law, said.
Alex took a long mouthful of local cider whilst allowing his eyes to roam over the people at the fair. Pentworthy was right, he was bored. His life was good, easy even, but there was no excitement, no challenge. After inheriting at the tender age of nineteen he could now run his estate with his eyes closed and hands tied behind his back. His only sister was comfortably married and happily producing bouncing, healthy babies and the women who fluttered and flirted with him during balls and dances all seemed unimaginably dull. Alex couldn’t bear the thought of having to choose one of them as his wife.
No, the only thing that got his pulse racing these days was a visit to the auction house to bid on a promising new horse, or breaking in a lively young colt, that battle for power and mutual respect between animal and rider.
‘There’s more to life than horses and racing.’
‘What are you two talking about?’ Georgina asked as she bustled over to the two men. Perpetually nosy, that was how their parents had described Georgina at the age of five, and Alex was sure she’d only got worse with age.
‘I was observing that your brother is bored.’
‘And lonely,’ Georgina added.
‘He needs a wife.’
‘Someone who will challenge him.’ Georgina pursed her lips. ‘How about Annabelle Mottrem?’
‘Too quiet. And her nose is rather large,’ Pentworthy said. ‘He wants someone at least passably attractive. What about Caroline Woods?’
Georgina rolled her eyes and swatted her husband on the shoulder. ‘The girl is as vicious as a hungry cat.’
‘Pretty, though.’
Before Georgina could launch into a long-winded reprimand Alex held up a hand to stop them.
‘I don’t need a woman. And I most certainly don’t need you two matchmaking for me.’
‘You haven’t done very well these last few years on your own,’ Georgina murmured. ‘We just want to see you happy. Ever since...’
‘Don’t,’ Alex said sharply. ‘Don’t say her name.’
Georgina sighed. ‘Ever since she left you haven’t looked at another woman seriously.’
It wasn’t true. Alex looked. He smiled and charmed and danced with women. He listened to the empty twittering of the debutantes year after year and wondered if they were trained to talk only of the weather, fashion and—if he was especially lucky—the latest opera they had seen. Maybe it was unreasonable to want more, to want excitement and humour and that spark of attraction, but he’d experienced all of that with Victoria and refused to settle for anything less again. True, his liaison with Victoria had ended in a heartbreak even he wasn’t sure he was fully recovered from three years down the line, but at least she’d amused and enthralled him with her quick wit and sharp observations.
‘And you do need to produce an heir...’ his sister said, dropping her voice.
‘But preferably one with at least average intelligence,’ Alex murmured.
‘You do the young debutantes a disservice,’ Georgina reprimanded him. ‘From an early age we women are told that men like us meek and obedient, without strong views on politics or other worldly matters. If you would just get to know one or two young ladies properly, I think you’d find surprising depths.’
‘I’m not sure I want a wife who believes to please a man she needs to blend into the crowd.’
‘I’m not sure you want a wife, Whitemore,’ Pentworthy said quietly.
All three fell quiet as they contemplated the truth behind the words. Alex saw his sister open her mouth and knew he had to say anything to stop her getting her next quip in. Sometimes his sister could be too sharp, too observant, and his character flaws had taken enough of a verbal beating today already.
‘All I’m saying is I could take any woman here today and turn her into the perfect debutante. All she would need is a few fancy clothes, good manners, some passing knowledge of banal topics of conversation and me as her sponsor, of course.’
Georgina sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘Have I ever told you you’re arrogant and insufferable?’
‘Once or twice.’
Pentworthy held up a hand. ‘Wait, wait, wait. I have an idea. A wager.’
Alex eyed his brother-in-law uneasily as he saw the excitement shine in his sister’s eyes.
‘Whitemore, we give you six weeks to turn one of these country lasses into the perfect debutante. The first ball of the London Season will be around then—that can be the test. If she fits in, has a full dance card and doesn’t do anything scandalous, then you will have won the wager.’
‘What are the stakes?’ Alex asked. He knew he should decline right away, but he’d never been able to resist a challenge.
‘If you win, Georgina and I will never mention marriage or try to pair you off again.’
Already Alex felt the smile spreading across his lips. He would be free to accept invitations to dinner without having to worry whether some eligible young miss would be placed next to him, expecting to be wooed.
‘And if he loses?’ Georgina asked.
‘Then he has to seriously look for a wife.’
Alex waved a hand dismissively. Admittedly the stakes were high if he lost, but he wasn’t in the habit of losing and didn’t plan on starting now. How hard could it be? Most of the young women in attendance at the Pottersdown Fair were the daughters of the country gentry. Even if he were unlucky and a servant or shop girl was selected, six weeks was a long time. He was sure he could teach them the basic etiquette for the ballroom.
‘Who chooses the woman?’ he asked.
‘We’ll leave it to chance. Once we’ve agreed and shaken hands, it’ll be the next unmarried woman of an appropriate age to walk past us.’
‘And if she doesn’t agree?’
‘That is part of the wager, my dear fellow. You have to persuade her.’
‘And you’re not allowed to pay her,’ Georgina added quickly.
Alex nodded slowly. There was a small chance the woman or her family might flatly refuse to be part of this, but Alex was charming and eloquent and there weren’t many things he couldn’t persuade people to do. Besides, what young woman wouldn’t want to be bought beautiful dresses and escorted to sumptuous balls?
‘I’m in,’ Alex said, holding out his hand and suppressing a smile as his sister squealed in delight. He shook Pentworthy’s hand, then slowly all three turned to look to see who would be the next eligible young woman to walk past.
He saw the brightly coloured skirt first and with his heart sinking in his chest he slowly let his eyes travel upwards to confirm his fears. Beside him, Georgina was in hysterics, laughing in a very unladylike manner. Even his brother-in-law was chuckling softly.
‘Do you want to give up now?’ Pentworthy asked quietly.
Alex shook his head, but even he knew it would be a stretch to transform the pretty gypsy girl into a member of the gentry. Gypsies had a bad reputation, much of it unfounded, but Alex knew the young woman walking towards him would be more at home dancing around an open fire than waltzing through a ballroom.