Page 12 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

When they stepped out into the bustling street in the early afternoon, Bella’s stomach growled. She realized, then, she’d missed breakfast.

“Let’s go to the wharf for something to eat,” she said.

With their arms loaded with packages, they headed down the street to the docks where they would find street vendors hawking their street food including everything from grilled fish to fruit skewers.

“I’ve never done that.” Emmaline’s face beamed as she continued to grin, her eyes wide and shiny as she took in all the sights, the sounds, the smells.

“You’re in for a treat. Father used to bring me here when I was younger and he had business in the port with his ships.”

As they neared the docks, the fishermen shouted their catch of the day. Wooden crates were full of slippery silvery fish, the afternoon light gleaming on their damp scales. Lobsters crowded their cages. Mounds of oysters were on ice.

One side hosted the street food carts where there was a variety of treats. Fruit skewered, roasted meat on a stick, meat pies, fried potatoes, roasted nuts. The food smells intermingled with that of the salty sea air. Bella paused a moment to bask in the afternoon sunshine, closing her eyes and lifting her face to the sky to enjoy the warmth on her skin.

“My lady, you’ll burn,” Emmaline said on a gasp.

“The warmth feels delicious. Don’t you agree?” she said without opening her eyes.

“I do agree.”

The charming male voice made her eyes pop open. Standing near her, with a faint smile on his handsome face, was Lord Vincent. He was dressed in an elegant navy frock coat, finely trailed to his broad shoulders and cinched at the waist with a silver-buttoned closure. A crisp white shirt peeked out from the high collar of his dark brocade waistcoat. A silk cravat, knotted and pinned with a glittering sapphire, gave him a dash of effortless elegance. Charcoal-gray trousers were tucked into black boots polished to a high shine that gleamed despite the dust and grime of the wharf. His gloved hands held a matching cane and, tucked beneath his arm, was his top hat, allowing his brown hair to have a windswept look as though he were merely strolling the docks.

“Oh, Lord Vincent. It’s nice to see you.”

She hadn’t expected to see him again. It left her a bit flustered. After their last encounter, she thought for sure he would never speak to her again, though she did try to be kind when she rebuffed him.

“I daresay I’m delighted to see you, Miss Rinaldi. Especially after hearing about the devastating fire that took your home. Are you well? Your father?” Concern etched his face as his gaze flickered from her to Emmaline and back again.

“Yes, we’re fine. Thank you for asking. We all made it out in time.” She noticed he continued to look at Emmaline, who stood a few paces behind her. “This is my lady’s maid, Emmaline.”

He gave a brief nod and a pleasant smile in greeting, his eyes lighting with interest. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss.” His gaze roved over the mountains of packages in her arms, but he said nothing. Finally, his eyes flickered back to her. “What will you and your father do now? Surely not stay at the local inn.”

A flash of fear went through her he would open his home to them. She forced a smile, voice light and causal. “Oh, no, we’re heading to our country estate in Driftbell this evening.”

“I see.” He sounded rather disappointed hearing she was leaving the port.

Truth be told, disappointment tugged at her too—but not for the same reason. She’d miss the clamor of the docks, the clang of rigging in the wind, the gulls shrieking overhead, and the coarse shouts of fishermen haggling over the morning’s catch. The port had a pulse, a life of its own she couldn’t quite explain but felt deep in her bones.

He was still looking at the packages. Her arms ached from carrying them, but pride and determination kept her spine straight.

“May I help you with your packages? You both look quite overloaded.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but we can handle it.”

As the words left her mouth, one of the packages slipped—tilting, tumbling. He caught the hatbox before it hit the ground, smooth and swift. But though he gave her a polite smile, his eyes said he knew the many packages were far too much for her.

“I must insist,” he said gently. “Allow me to have your packages sent ahead to your home in Driftbell. It will make your travels much easier.”

Bella shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly aware of the weight she carried in her arms, which cramped. She had the sneaking suspicion he was interested in helping her so he could call on her later at Hawthorne Hall.

She cut a glance back at Emmaline. Her wide eyes took in his appearance and a flush bloomed high on her cheeks. She gazed at him with shy dreamy admiration. Lord Vincent’s gaze flickered toward Emmaline and, for the briefest moment, his polished composure cracked into a smile that was meant only for her.

A grin wanted to pull up the corners of Bella’s mouth, but she suppressed it.

“I do believe you’re right, Lord Vincent. Thank you for the kind offer. Our home in Driftbell is Hawthorne Hall.”

Lord Vincent signaled for his valet who stood a few paces behind him. He was dressed in a dark livery coat and black pants, his hands clasped behind his back and his expression unreadable. He stepped forward, offered a small bow and immediately took the packages from Bella’s arms.

“Hollis, please see these packages are delivered to Miss Rinaldi at Hawthorne Hall in Driftbell.”

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