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Lizzie leaned back and regarded him narrowly, though she suspected the effect might be ruined by the fact it was only through the one eye.

“I’ll join you in ten minutes,” he murmured unperturbed and swung her inside the wagon. In truth it was more like five. Lizzie had scarcely tied the bow at her neck before he was opening the door and slamming it shut behind him.

“Sebastian’s settled.”

“And Florence?” she asked. She had felt a bit guilty seeing Daphne depart with the brown cob. She had no idea of Frank or Jack had a favorite among their horses.

“Both are fine.”

She had wondered if he might press her for more information about Ma or Daphne, but Benedict seemed wholly unconcerned about either of them. She climbed into the bed. “I can’t possibly keep this on my face all night. What shall I do? Remove it before I fall asleep?”

Benedict murmured some agreement to this as he undressed, and Lizzie stared up at the ceiling with one eye, fiercely trying to think of counter arguments in case he tried forbidding her from work tomorrow. Goodness only knew when she would next see her friends! She was determined, in any event, that she would not be prevented from sharing their company while she still had the opportunity.

Mercifully, however, her husband did not even attempt to raise the subject, merely settled beside her and wrapped an arm about her waist. “Go to sleep,” he growled, almost as though he could hear her busy thoughts.

23

Benedict left Lizzie outside the Wonderous Females tent the next morning without bothering to voice any objections he knew she would disregard. Her eye was not swollen this morning, though the area underneath and in the inner corner was a bright mottled red. She let him inspect it and apply a little ointment before they left their fireside, and then she expected him to act as though nothing ailed her.

Hearing a stifled expletive, Benedict turned back to see Connie had come bursting out of the tent after him, but Lizzie had a hold of her arm and was gabbling into her ear at top speed. Connie relaxed and disappeared back into the tent. It occurred to Benedict that his wife’s employer must have thought he was the one that had given Lizzie the eye. He was both impressed and surprised that Connie had sought to tackle him about it. Connie Brown had always been a man’s woman, but evidently, Lizzie had won her over.

And she wasn’t the only one, he thought when both his brothers asked after Lizzie as soon as he entered the boxing tent. Jack followed this up with a flurry of complaints about having no one to make their breakfast or light the fire for them that morning.

“Do it yourself, you lazy bastard,” Benedict growled.

Jack pulled a face. “That would mean getting up earlier,” he grumbled.

Frank said nothing, but Benedict noticed he was quiet and distracted all morning. The mid-week point at Putney Heath was an all-day event, from ten in the morning until ten at night. He wasn’t surprised when his older brother drew him to one side before lunch and told him he would need to take some time away from the booth at some point soon, and that he and Jack would have to hold the fort.

“For how long?” Benedict asked with a frown. If Frank was talking of going off, how was he supposed to make his own plans for settling Lizzie at Winchester Street?

“I don’t know yet,” Frank admitted. “I haven’t firmed up how I’m to go about it.”

Benedict raised his brows and Frank drew himself up. “I’ll need some time off, to go in search of her, Ben. You must see that.”

“Which one?”

Frank bristled. “Maggie, of course!”

“Oh? And where will you start?”

“I suppose I’ll have to make some enquiries. There was that friend of hers that worked for Connie.” Frank frowned. “I haven’t seen her in months, come to think of it. Then there was that one Farini sister. Sophia, I think?” He scratched his neck. “It’s a starting point anyway.”

Benedict debated a moment telling him all that he knew, but for some reason held his tongue. After all, he didn’t need another reason for Lizzie to be pissed at him. He had given her plenty already, what with the house he owned and hadn’t told her about. “Well,” he prevaricated. “You’ll need to lay your plans first. No point rushing off half-cocked.”

Frank nodded. “Aye, I know.”

“If you mean to speak to anyone at Wonderous Females, then you’ll have to do it today.” At Frank’s curious look, he explained Connie’s company were packing up to leave for Banbury tomorrow.

“Right,” Frank said. “Thanks for the tip.”

Benedict’s mood did not improve at lunchtime when he headed over to Connie’s tent only to find it empty and a sign pinned to the entrance saying they were closed and would return next year. He stared at it a moment before peering inside to check if Lizzie had waited for him. She had not. Not only that, but everything was tidied away neatly into packing cases and trunks. They must have spent the morning packing up. He bought a ham sandwich and returned to the boxing tent in a somewhat worse mood.

“That was quick,” Jack said, looking up at his re-entrance.

“Lizzie’s gone off to lunch without me,” he admitted, unwrapping his sandwich.

Frank looked up from where he was sat drinking oxtail soup but made no comment.