Mariel (19 page)

“Can we go?” she cried when Mariel turned to speak to Phipps.

“In a moment. Go down, if you wish, and tell Ian I will be with you as soon as I am done here.”

Forgetting all the lessons Phipps had tried to instill in her about manners and being seen and not heard, Rosie scurried down the stairs, whirling around the landing, which was decorated in the green light from the stained glass window.

Mariel smiled at the disapproval mixed with love on Phipps's face. No one could fail to be won by Rosie's enthusiasm for life. It pleased her that the other important people in the Cloister cared for the child as she did. She said only, “We may not be home in time for dinner. Ian has a surprise for us.”

“Do not stay out too late, Lady Mariel. The night air can be dangerous.”

“Yes, Phipps,” she replied as she had so often. With a wave, she followed Rosie, at a slightly more moderate pace. She would have preferred to run to Ian's arms, but knew Phipps would be watching.

After giving Rosie a chance to extract a promise from Dodsley to take her fishing, the threesome went to where the buggy waited. When the little girl climbed nimbly aboard and sat directly in the center of the padded seat, Ian started to speak.

Mariel put her hand on his arm and shook her head. The new love Rosie had for him was still so precious, she did not want to do anything to threaten it. Not even when her heart yearned to have no one between her and Ian.

Reluctantly, he nodded and smiled. “If you will take a ride with me alone later, Mariel.”

“That would be lovely,” she answered politely while she sang with silent joy.

Warmth suffused along her as he put his hand beneath her elbow to assist her into the vehicle. As low to the ground as her automobile, the buggy was easy to enter. When she sat on the leather bench, she put her gloved hand in Rosie's. The child chatted nonstop as Ian walked around to the other side and stepped aboard.

The black horse lifted its feet jauntily as they drove along the road to the front gate and the shore road. When they passed the electric automobile stopped by the side of the path, they waved to Walter. He smiled in response.

“Problems?” asked Ian.

“No, not anymore.” She turned to watch the automobile come to life as the mechanic drove it toward the garage. “Walter checks it every day I don't drive, so there will be no breakdowns when I do take it out. Since he came to the Cloister, it has run perfectly. I wonder now what I did without him.”

They quickly forgot the automobile as Rosie began to pester Ian about the secret he was keeping from them. He teased her, but refused to divulge a single clue. Mariel listened to them and leaned back against the seat to enjoy the lovely day.

As always, the breeze came from the ocean, refreshing the air with its salty tang. The warm sunshine urged her to give in to the lackadaisical daydream of closing her eyes and allowing the day to pass to the easy rhythm of the hoofbeats on the dirt. Birds called sharply above the whirring of the insects among the growing plants. From far away along the hillsides, puffs of white bleated their mournful cries. The tinkling of sheepbells drifted with the even-whiter cotton of the clouds.

Ian slowed the carriage as the road became crowded with other vehicles, all traveling in the same direction. Mariel smiled as she realized where he meant to take them. When the little girl saw the brightly colored caravan of wagons scattered across a freshly harvested hay field, she gave a squeal of delight.

“The circus!” Rosie cried.

“Shall we stop here, Daisy?” Ian teased, winking broadly at Mariel. “I had planned to take you and Mariel for another charming visit to Reverend Tanner, like the one we had yesterday.”

“My name is not Daisy! It's Rosie!” She gripped the dash of the buggy as she stated, “And I don't want to visit that old fool.”

“Rosie,” admonished Mariel, “you should not call Reverend Tanner an old fool.”

“
You
do!”

With a laugh, Ian brought the carriage to a stop in the shade of the trees growing along the hedgerow. “She has you there, Mariel. I have heard you call him that on more than one occasion. Right, Iris?”

“Rosie!” she retorted, but she giggled. This had become a private game between the two of them.

He tweaked her nose and said, “I will try to remember that. Do you want to go now?”

Rosie could not contain her excitement when Ian lifted her from the buggy. She bounced from one foot to the other as she waited for him to assist Mariel. Her head turned to follow each delight waiting to be discovered.

Ian grinned as he put his hands on Mariel's waist. It was nearly as narrow as the child's. He did not want to release her when her feet touched the ground, but Rosie's excited demands gave him no time to enjoy the woman. With a flourish, he offered Mariel his arm.

After opening her wispy pink parasol, which matched the lace of her blouse, she placed her fingers on Ian's wool coat sleeve. Secretly, she thought the three of them looked like the perfect family on an outing in the country. Such thoughts she would not voice, for she did not know how Ian would feel about such presumption.

“Where first?” he was asking the little girl.

Rosie glanced about at the wagons painted with stripes and flowers. Each one had a garish awning attached to it where the owners could present their wares. In the center of the camp was a huge tent where the circus would be held. The performance did not start for a few minutes, so they would have time to explore the alien delights of the wagons.

Without hesitation, she urged, “The ponies. Please, Ian. Can I have my picture taken on a pony?”

He laughed. For Rosie everything was new. Her sparkling enthusiasm spilled over onto the adults to allow them to enjoy anew the delights of childhood. “Of course. Come on. Do you think Mariel should have her photograph taken as well?”

“Yes!”

“Some other day,” said Mariel with a smile. “When they have full-sized horses. I am afraid I am too tall for the ponies. Run ahead and choose which pony you want, dear.”

She kept her eyes on the child as they walked through the crowd. The circus was little more than a half dozen gaudily painted wagons, but many of the residents of Foxbridge were taking advantage of the rare entertainment on this warm afternoon.

Rosie went up to the man with the camera, which was perched like a three-legged sea bird on its tripod. When he smiled at her, she was not daunted by the patch over one eye and the long ragged scar on his cheek. She pointed to the cream colored Shetland pony. Its saddle was inlaid with fake gems and stitched in an outrageous pattern. Long blankets nearly touched the ground on each side of its short legs.

“Is that the one you want, young lady?”

“Yes!” she breathed with candid excitement.

“Do you have any money? The photos are—” He straightened as he saw the woman with her eyes on the child by his side. His single eye narrowed as the little girl raced to her. No one had to tell him who this was. He made it his practice to know such details as the names and descriptions of the gentry before he opened his circus to the public.

He smiled as he put his fingers to his forehead. “Good afternoon. Have you come to have your photograph taken?”

Mariel grinned at Rosie's rapid list of reasons why she must have her picture taken on the light brown pony. “My daughter would like to be photographed on that one there.” Her happiness glowed on her face as she spoke of the little girl as her child.

“Daughter?” the photographer asked involuntarily. He had heard nothing of Lady Mariel Wythe having a child. As far as he knew, she was a spinster. Recovering quickly, he added, “Would you like to be in the picture also?”

“No, this picture is for Rosie.”

He nodded and led the little girl by the hand to where the pony waited with infinite patience. Lifting her onto it, he adjusted her frock and hair. He warned her not to move, then returned to his camera. Peering from beneath the dark cloth, he adjusted the lens to the correct focus.

Ian watched the process with interest. He put his hand on Mariel's arm and drew her back closer to him. She smiled at him swiftly before looking at Rosie again. As soon as the picture was taken, she lifted the child from the horse. She took the slip of paper from the photographer and nodded when he told her to come back after the show to purchase the picture.

She thanked him and placed the identifying slip in her bag. As they walked away to visit the next wagon, she did not notice that his eyes followed her until they were lost among the throng of revelers.

Rosie ran from one wagon to the next, pointing excitedly to everything offered for sale. She convinced Ian to buy her a candied apple, which immediately turned her face to sticky scarlet. Music called to them, and they paused to watch a dancing bear.

They cheered loudly with the rest of the crowd as the trainer put the animal through his routine. Mariel's cheer subsided as she felt an unease she could not name. Nothing was wrong, but something had changed. She had the sensation of being observed clandestinely.

Slowly, she turned. She was right. Someone was watching her. Although she wanted to ignore the man, she could not. Even without the paisley scarf over his head and the golden hoops in his ears, she would have known he was a member of this traveling band. Bulging muscles were revealed below the sleeves of his tattered shirt.

His slightly tilted eyes hid in his wide face, but she could feel his gaze on her. When she saw him take a step toward them, she looked back at the antics of the trained bear.

“Mariel?”

She should have guessed Ian would sense her disquiet through her fingertips on his sleeve. “There is a man staring at me. No, don't look.”

“Don't worry,” he said with a smile. “The constable is here with his brood. None of these Gypsies wish to cause any trouble for us. They would rather take our gold for their entertainments.” His arm slipped around her shoulders as he added, “I am sure he simply enjoys looking at such a lovely lady.”

“I wish he would look at someone else.”

“There is no one prettier.” When she did not respond to his compliment, he called to Rosie. “Let's go into the tent and get our seats on the benches for the show. It will be starting soon.”

Mariel waited impatiently as Ian purchased their tickets. Herding Rosie before her, she walked with him into the tent. The summer sun had heated the interior, and the air was thick with the scent of mildewed canvas and animal droppings mixed with the sawdust of the ring. When they found seats in the front row, they considered themselves lucky.

While Ian talked with their neighbors, Mariel stared at the center of the ring. She did not understand why the stranger had stripped her of her joy in the day. Ian was right. The man had done nothing but look at her, and that could not be construed as any sort of a crime. Forcing herself to forget him, she tried to respond to the anticipation around her.

The show began with a blare of off-key music. Horses raced into the ring under the watchful eye of their trainer. The master of the circus shouted out the name of the performer and the tricks the woman in the sparse costume would attempt, and Mariel felt Ian's fingers slip over hers. His nearness comforted her and allowed her to become enraptured by the acts of skill and finesse.

Clowns displayed their antics between each act. When one grasped Rosie's hands and invited her to join their comical dance, she hesitated only as long as it took Mariel to urge her to accept. Mariel laughed until she felt weak, with tears in her eyes as Rosie wholeheartedly played with the men disguised behind their stage makeup. When she returned, breathless from laughter, she continued to giggle at the games they played.

More performances followed, some beautiful and graceful, others terrifying with the fearsome daring of the circus members. Mariel's hands grew sore from applauding and from Rosie clenching them as she watched the show in open-mouthed awe.

Too soon, it was over. The ring lost its magic as it again became only a wooden circle filled with well trampled sawdust. They waited for the others to leave, unwilling to let the enchantment end. As they stood, a man approached. He bowed and handed Rosie a flower.

The little girl took it and looked from the pale pink blossom to him in bafflement. He grinned a lopsided smile as he winked at her companions. “For your assistance today, young lady. Don't you recognize me?”

Only when he did a backward flip with an ease that seemed impossible did she clap her hands and crow with delight. Without his stage makeup, she could not see him as the clown who had invited her to participate. His everyday looks would not be noticed in any crowd. His mousy brown hair and clear brown eyes did not hint at the joy within him.

“Thank you for making the day special for her,” said Mariel sincerely. “She has never been to the circus before.”

He smiled. When he spoke, she noticed the heavy accent of his speech. Most of the people connected with this circus must be from one of the far eastern parts of Europe. “I thought so. I cannot remember the first time I saw a circus, for I was born to this one. Yet, when I see the delight in the eyes of these children, I, too, can enjoy the performance as if for the first time.” He patted Rosie's head. “Thank you, little one, for making this day special for me, also.” With a hearty farewell, he raced across the ring to disappear through the performer's entrance.

“Look, Mariel,” urged Rosie. “Isn't it beautiful?”

“It's lovely. We shall put it in a vase, and you may keep it in your room.”

“Forever?”

“Forever, if you wish.” Mariel looked up at Ian and wondered if anything could be more wonderful than this moment when love surrounded them.

He took her hand as she took Rosie's. “I think we should go see the rest of the wagons. What do you think, Lilac?”

“Rosie!” She skipped as they left the tent.