Page 35 of The Gentlewoman Farmer

In the breakfast room, Philip stood at the sideboard shoveling eggs onto his plate. Her heart tumbled, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was pleased to see him or because she hoped he’d forgotten the fair was today. She regretted inviting him.

“Good morning, Sophia. Are you ready for the fair? I hope you don’t mind my coming along after my rudeness yesterday.” Philip’s smile was not as bright as usual, and Sophia took pity on him.

“Of course. I hoped you’d remember.” Without sitting, Sophia buttered her bread. “We’ll leave straight away. Mr. Gregory is coming, of course. I’ll just go outside and see that he is ready. Eat quickly and meet me in front of the house.” Sophia walked out the door, chewing on her food.

Sophia and Philip mounted the farm cart which they were taking so they could return with the rams that Sophia hoped to buy, while Mr. Gregory rode behind them on his horse. The wheels of the cart grumbled against the gravel road, and hoofbeats chanted from behind. Birdsong vibrated through the trees, combining with the hush of distant waves. Nature was the only speaker that morning, as Philip was silent, and Sophia could think of nothing to say. Sheep, shearing, fields, and plowing drifted into her head, and she was lost in plans and checklists.

When at last they arrived at the fairground, Sophia made her way to the livestock area, followed by Philip and Mr. Gregory. Animal noises and smells filled the air. Sophia squinted at the vast number of sheep enclosed in the low fence.

“What are you doing?” Philip stood beside Sophia, his attention distracting.

“Looking. Hush.”

Philip quieted but shifted his weight impatiently.

“Farmer Harris!” Sophia shouted. “May I look at that one?”

Farmer Harris ignored her. Sophia, instead of shouting out to him a second time, began climbing the fence. It was typical for farmers to overlook her. She’d learned over the past years that she needed to act in a way that could not be ignored. “Help me, Philip.” Her skirts were an encumbrance, and Philip took her arm and assisted her.

Once over the fence, Sophia walked with great refinement over to the ram she had specified to the farmer and pried open its mouth. That caught the attention of Farmer Harris, and he lumbered over to her.

“This ram is past his prime, but his wool is fine, and he is well-formed. Do you have a younger version?” Sophia asked.

“He is but four years, Miss Worthington.”

“Do not be ridiculous. Show me something better.”

With a sigh, the farmer walked to the other end of the animal enclosure and brought over another ram. Sophia inspected it from hoof to mouth.

“What do you think of it, Gregory?”

After a positive appraisal from her steward, Sophia offered a price. Knowing this negotiation could take time, Sophia suggested that Philip find a place for food while she finished her transaction.

Once Sophia and Harris agreed on a price, and after she’d found another suitable ram, she left the livestock area and went to find Philip. It didn’t take long. Sophia spied him exiting the fortune teller’s booth and went over to him.

“You look pleased,” Sophia said to Philip’s grin.

“Do I?”

“Yes. Did Old Mother Carter predict your happy future? She dresses like a gypsy at the fair to earn a few coins. She does a tolerable job of disguise, but since she smokes a tobacco pipe, her voice cannot be mistaken. What did she say?”

“One must never reveal such things, Miss Worthington,” Philip said, waving a hand in the air.

Not one to fall for such bait, Sophia said, “She must have told you to stop calling me by my Christian name.”

“No such thing, Sophia, my enchanting, fair one. Sophia, to whom I am not indifferent. Sophia, my…”

Sophia elbowed Philip’s ribs. His dramatics were not welcome, but his words put a smile on her face, and his sour mood had disappeared.

“Did you have a pint or two with the old woman?” Not waiting for an answer, Sophia put her arm in his and led him toward the food. “Come, let’s get something to eat. Did you see anything good?”

Once they purchased meat pies, they settled under a tree at the edge of the crowd to watch the festivities and eat. Booths encircled the field, and musicians played their flutes, fifes, and violins for a dancing crowd. A few plucky children petitioned the merrymakers to buy their wares. Outside the booths were temporary fences holding livestock for show or sale.

It looked shabby. She had never stayed at the fair long enough to notice that the booths leaned to one side, the paint was flaked, and most of the signs hung askew. She usually came with a purpose and left quickly.

She sat as close to Philip as she had when they were children. Tranquil was the word that best described her feelings. Her life was full and chaotic, but this was a rare peaceful moment, and she savored it.

No longer hungry, she set aside her unfinished pie.