The Bride's Farewell Read Online Free PDF Page B

to her breast. “What a comfort for your poor dear mother.”
    Pell did not explain their circumstances further.
    “And you are here to buy a horse? Or to sell one?” Mrs. Bewes looked at Jack.
    I am in need of work, Pell thought. I left home in a hurry. My brothers are dead and my mother has only Lou and the little girls at home.
    I will never, ever marry.
    A knot of panic formed near her heart. What could she say to this woman? She forced herself to smile. “We are seeking—” she glanced at Bean, who was out of earshot—“to buy. Perhaps.”
    “Well, then, without a doubt you’ve come to the right place.” Mr. Bewes looked kindly at her, but his wife merely nodded. If the condition of the girl’s clothing was anything to go by, money was not plentiful at home. Perhaps she was hoping for a bargain, or a miracle.
    “We are in search of a nice solid pony, strong enough to pull a plow but not so heavy he can’t be rode to the next village in the dead of night.” It turned out that the old woman was a midwife, still active in her trade. “Our Pike deserves retirement and a quiet old age, poor thing, after eighteen years’ hard work. Nowadays, all he’s good for is to trundle along in front of a wagon at half a useful pace.” She grunted. “And that goes for his lordship as well.”
    Pell smiled.
    “Will you take tea with us?” Mrs. Bewes asked and, without waiting for an answer, poured out into delicate china cups, as genteel as if she were sitting in a velvet chair in her own gracious parlor. She removed a small leather bottle from her apron and tipped its contents into her teacup.
    Pell caught a whiff of gin and peppermint.
    Mr. Bewes explained that he was hoping to accomplish his business and set off for home as soon as possible. “I’m too old for this,” he said, and Pell understood. The atmosphere of the fair, equal parts thrill and menace, offered the kind of excitement that sickened the soul. An excess of alcohol had so far made the crowd cheerful, but she knew it would not be long before the mood turned.
    “I’ll happily stay with the horses,” Pell offered, “if you would like to look round with Mrs. Bewes.”
    Her offer was gratefully received, and she sat with Esther watching the comings and goings of the fair until finally the couple returned, and Mrs. Bewes urged Pell to take a turn with her husband. “The place is riddled with Gypsies and heaven knows what else,” she whispered, too loudly, with a meaningful nod at Esther. “I think you’ll find the protection of a man a blessing.”
    Pell retrieved Bean from Esmé and, gripping him tightly by the hand, set off with the old man. She would certainly find work here, she told herself. Horses needed grooming and guarding, and owners would not want to leave a wagon, or a beast, unattended.
    The noise did not abate as evening closed in, rather the opposite, owing to the combined effect of drink and high spirits. Everywhere fires burned; the wood smoke blew around Pell’s head and up her nose, a welcome smell over that of ordure and blood. She could hear pipes and fiddles emerging here and there in the dusk. The smoky gray evening made a perfect dull foil for flames and the flickering glow of lanterns.
    She saw Bean’s eyes glow huge like beacons in the failing light. Plenty of ugliness to be found here, Pell thought, despite it lying low. And he’s just the child to see it all. She folded his cold hand between her two and squeezed it tight.
    Pell managed to follow Mr. Bewes and discourage him once or twice from horses he’d regret buying. She offered guidance so subtle that it made no particular impression on him, but when he settled on a big skewbald gelding, well built and sound, it was thanks to judgment other than his own. Even in the half-light she could tell that the animal was strong, intelligent enough, and willing. As they turned to go, the owner swung Bean up onto his horse’s back, saying, “See? Quiet as a lamb he is.