Page 33 of A Christmas Temptation for the Duke
It was located on the main park at the village’s outskirts, a space twice the size of the Earl’s estate. At one end were various markets and stalls, at the other were attractions such as a travelling theatre troupe who were still busying themselves setting up the stage for later in the day, and along the sides were where games and entertainment were hosted for the children… and those adults who wished to participate.
The mood was merry and gay, as was so often the case this time of year. Snow covered the field, but it mattered not because the hundreds of people about were rugged up and enjoying themselves such that the weather was not felt. Warm mead was drunk by many. Steam from hot treats drifted through the air and smelled divine. Christmas decorations hung from stalls and decorated trees and despite the ramble and chorus of the people, Alison could hear music coming from… she could not tell. There was just so much going on!
“Come!” She took the Earl by the arm and dragged him back across the park.
“Where to now?” he groaned.
“No idea!” she cried. “But that is half the fun!”
When Alison had first insisted on attending the fair, she had done so to prove a point. And for the first thirty minutes of so, she was sure to test the limits of the Earl’s patience because oh, how she enjoyed beating him.
But as the day wore on, and as Alison found herself moving about the fair and visiting the stalls and watching the games and snacking on treats and getting lost in the revelry of the fair… what had started as exaggeration and purposefully antagonistic cheer turned very real.
“Look!” Alison had the Earl by the arm and was dragging him across the park. Perhaps it was not the smartest idea to hold onto him as she was, but she was too excited to think about that.
Besides… it wasn’t as if the Earl was trying to stop her.
“What is it now?” he groaned.
She rolled her eyes at his mood. Maybe she was being hopeful, but she thought she saw a smile trying to escape from his lips. That he was enjoying himself more than he let on but refused to admit it.
“A snowball fight!” She pulled him to an area by the edge of the park that was separated by a fence. On the other side was a man who Alison recognized to the be the mayor of Whitehaven, dressed in a colorful coat that was a tad garish but all in good fun.
“Wonderful.”
She scoffed loudly so he could see it and then went back to watching.
The snowball fight was yet to start, as the mayor announced it would begin once enough people had signed up. He was a portly character with rosy cheeks and a pointed white beard, his smile jolly and his cadence joyful. He beckoned to various people around the fence, trying to wave them over to join in.
And Alison, taken by the thrill, could not help but ask a question she already knew the answer to.
“Say…” she began casually. “Shall we –”
“I do not think so,” the Earl cut her off.
“Why not?”
The Earl wore an expensive coat. His scarf too, and his gloves and boots, just as rich. He folded his arms and cocked an eyebrow at her, the storm above his head growing so it might burst. “I will not dignify that with an answer.”
She puffed her cheeks out. “I am a guest, you know. And you promised –”
“To look out for you,” he cut over her again. “Which is what I am doing. But if you think I am going to involve myself in a snowball fight.” He scoffed. “After your theatrics last night, I figured your imagination to be the stuff of legend, but I had no idea just how bad it was.”
She furrowed her brow, figuring that she did not need his permission. In fact, she liked the idea of doing it without him agreeing. But before she got the chance to tell him as such, someone spoke from beside them.
“That’s a fancy looking coat!” the voice was high pitched and came from down low. “Looks darn regal.”
Alison blinked in surprise and turned to find a young boy looking up at them. He couldn’t have been older than ten, was dressed poorly, dirt on his cheeks and with messy blonde hair than fell over his eyes. But he wore a coy smile, cheeky in the way he used it to judge the Earl.
“Excuse me?” the Earl turned on the boy. He stood over him like an ogre, but the boy did not so much as blink.
“Can’t be blamin’ you for not wanting to get involved,” the boy continued. “Wouldn’t want that coat to get all dirty like. Probably cost more than me Ma makes in a year.”
The Earl blinked in surprise and looked around as if for help. “That is not… that is none of your business. Whoever you are.”
“Name’s Tommy,” the boy said with a wide smile. “Hopin’ that you don’t be getting involved, truthfully. I would hate to hurt ya.” He found Alison grinning and winked. “Bet the lady here don’t want to be leavin’ any bruises on ya either. Skin soft as yours probably is.”
It was the strangest thing. The young boy, brave and bold, was goading the Earl for no reason that Alison could tell. Likely, he just didn’t know any better. Likely, he was just the type who liked to see what he could get away with.
