Page 2 of My Favorite Mistake
As he rounded a stall, Fanny had to own that he was right.
And that he still had anexcellentback part.
Grumbling to herself, she spun on her heel. She wasn’t going to give Nick Cradduck another thought. He could follow her all around the fair today, and he probably would. Why should she care?
He couldn’t very well follow her home. Fanny served as lady’s maid to the Countess of Ardingly—whom she still called Lady Caroline, as that had been her title when Fanny first came to be in her service. The Ardingly manor house was right in the middle of a twelve-hundred-acre estate.
He couldn’t very well follow her there. So, no matter how much of a bother he made of himself, after today, she would never have to see him again.
With that cheering thought, Fanny went to have a look around.
CHAPTER2
An hour later, Fanny was in an excellent mood. Brockworth was a tiny village—less than four hundred people—but it had a claim to fame, and that was its annual cheese rolling festival. No one knew exactly when the tradition started, but the annual Cooper’s Hill Cheese-Rolling and Wake, as it was properly called, was thought to have begun hundreds of years ago. Held each year on Whit Monday, the residents of Brockworth gathered to participate in a variety of sporting events—tug of war, wrestling, and even something called shin-kicking. At the top of the hill, girls were dancing around the maypole for ribbons, and there was an amusing event where boys would stick their head through a horse’s collar then see who could pull the funniest face.
But the crowning glory was the cheese rolling competition. At the conclusion of the festival, any young men who were daring—and madcap—enough would line up at the top of Cooper’s Hill, an absurdly steep slope about a mile outside of town. A master of ceremonies would release an eight-pound wheel of Double Gloucester, and the participants would hurl themselves down the precipice after the bouncing cheese. The first man to the bottom won a lifetime of glory… and whatever was left of the cheese after its violent descent down the hill.
Fanny smiled as she strolled through the impromptu market that had sprung up in the meadow near the base of the hill. Before Lady Caroline’s marriage to the Earl of Ardingly, she had lived in Gloucester with her mistress, but Fanny had never attended the cheese rolling. The Ardingly household happened to be visiting her ladyship’s childhood home, Harrington Hall. One of Lady Caroline’s brothers was running for a seat in Parliament. The festival had seemed like a good place for him to canvass for votes, and with the fine spring weather, everyone had been eager to attend. Between her ladyship’s many siblings and their families, their party had filled six carriages for the excursion.
The townspeople of Brockworth had put up a dozen or so stalls and brought out even more carts, and with the addition of a few traveling chapmen, the green had a festive feel to it. Fanny found a stall selling ices, and although the selection of flavors wasn’t what you’d find in London, the lemon had been delicious. Then she’d found a woman with a pushcart who had a good selection of ribbons, and she’d purchased some lovely velvet ones, in midnight blue for herself and in primrose yellow to send to her little sister, Mary.
She was thinking about climbing the hill to see what was going on up top when who should stroll onto the green but one of her favorite people, Billy Blakeley.
She’d known Billy since he was a freckle-faced boy of ten. Now he was a young man, although skinny as a maypole and with the type of face that would always look younger than his years. Billy had been Lord Ardingly’s tiger when Fanny first met him. He’d worked his way up since then, from stable boy to groom to apprentice trainer in his lordship’s breeding stables.
“Afternoon, Billy. Enjoying yourself?”
“Not yet, but I mean to.” Billy glanced eagerly around the bustling green, his eyes pausing on a comely young gal with blonde hair who was minding an apple cart. She gave Billy a shy smile, and his ears turned red.
Fanny linked her arm through his and gave him a wink. “Come, I fancy an apple.” She didn’t really. Given that it was May, the apples on that cart would be last year’s crop, kept in the root cellar all winter. Oh, they would still be edible, but not what you would call fresh. But ’twould be a good enough excuse for Billy to introduce himself. “What have you been doing with yourself that you haven’t had a look around the market?”
“I’ve been over in the village with Lord Ardingly. You know he’s been searching for a new head trainer. Someone wanted to see him about the job today.” Billy puffed out his chest. “His lordship asked for my opinion of him before he made his decision.”
Fanny squeezed Billy’s arm. His lordship had always harbored a special fondness for his former tiger, and in truth, Billy had a good head on his shoulders. “And what did you think of this man?”
“He knows horses, I can tell you that. We met down by the paddock to see what all they have for sale. There was this one colt, not yet broken, and didn’t want nothing to do with no one. Snapped at his lordship’s hand when he tried to look him over. Well, let me tell you—this fellow said to let him have a try, and the next thing you know, the colt’s as docile as a house cat. Nuzzled his hand and everything.” Billy shook his head. “I’ve never seen the like.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. And his last employer, Lord Finnemore, sang his praises in his reference letter. Lord Finnemore was beside himself to be losing him, but apparently, his mind is set on coming to work for Lord Ardingly. And… do you ever just have a feeling? He just”—Billy waved a hand, searching for the right words— “seems like a good sort.”
“I know just what you mean.” Of course, the last time Fanny had that feeling had been with bloody Nick Cradduck.
Look how wellthathad turned out.
“Did Lord Ardingly agree?” Fanny asked.
“He did, and the man got the job. He’ll come back with us tonight and start straight away.”
“Wonderful.” They’d arrived at the apple cart, and Fanny offered a smile to the pretty young blonde. “What varieties do you have for us today?”
Billy was quiet as a fawn to start, and the young gal, whose name was Becky, was almost as tongue-tied. But Fanny was able to draw the two of them out, and soon they were chattering away. Fanny bought a wedge of Double Gloucester cheese from a nearby stall. Fanny hailed from Kent and was proud of it, but she had to admit, the good people of Gloucestershire knew a thing or two about making a cheese—rich and creamy, with just a hint of bite to keep things interesting. Soon Becky was slicing up apples—which were still reasonably fresh and juicer than Fanny had expected—and the three of them were having a fine time deciding which variety paired best with the cheese.
“I like this Port Wine Pippin,” Billy announced around a mouthful of apple.
“That one’s nice and sweet, isn’t it?” Becky said, selecting and slicing another apple. “Now this here’s something you don’t see every day. This is a Tewkesbury Baron.”
Fanny popped a whole slice of the Tewkesbury Baron in her mouth. Something caught Billy’s eye because he tore his gaze from Becky. A grin spread over his face. “Say, that’s him. Our new head trainer.” He stood up on his toes and waved his hat.
