The Ringmaster's Wife by Kristy Cambron Page B

anything, Rosamund hoped he was right.
    Maybe the trip would open her eyes. Maybe traveling to train Ingénue in her new home would change her enough that Rosamund could return home and become the mistress of Lord Brentwood’s grand estates. And, just maybe, contentment would claim her somewhere along the way.
    Colin reemerged then, and her thoughts sailed back to the trip ahead.
    Rosamund instinctively smiled.
    That is, until she noticed that he wasn’t alone, and the smile that had so freely taken over her features faded almost as quickly.
    The form of an impeccably dressed woman emerged from the mist alongside him. They strolled along the platform, she a vision by his side, confidently falling into step with him. Freely. As if they knew each other quite well.
    The woman was statuesque, with olive skin and ebony hair tucked in a sleek, boyish bob under a soft blue cloche. It matched a bright-blue-and-gold embroidered traveling coat. Her lips were poppy red and pressed into an elegant smile. She walked with Colin as if floating along the platform, with a sultry grace that Rosamund had only read about in novels and seen once in a silent film at a picture show in a London cinema. Never had she dreamed that such a beauty could actually exist in real life. And never had she expected that kind of beauty to be strolling in her direction.
    Colin tipped his fedora back so he could lean in and say something to his companion over the roar of the train engine. She laughed in response, with a rosy smile that showed off a slight dimple in her left cheek.
    Rosamund drew in a steadying breath as the pair approached.
    “Saluto.” The woman extended a greeting as they stopped in front of her.
    Rosamund smiled through the curiosity piquing her interest, offering a congenial hello in return.
    “My, my, Colin. You did not do this young lady justice. She is bellissimo ,” the woman exclaimed with a thick Italian accent. “Are you sure she’s not here to join the show?”
    “Not exactly. Rosamund is accompanying one of our acquisition horses to Sarasota, to see the mare is trained properly,” he said.
    Colin connected eyes with her, but seemed to avoid any questions Rosamund would have posed in hers.
    “She plans to return to England in a few months’ time.”
    “Will she now? What a shame. I was looking forward to becoming better acquainted.”
    Colin turned to welcome Ward, who’d run up behind their group with a ready smile and a half-eaten, wax paper–wrapped sandwich in his hand. He tipped his woolen newsboy cap up off his forehead and looked to Colin.
    “Stock’s all tucked in. We’re ready to go,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich with nonchalance.
    The woman tipped her eyebrows, as if she were skeptical of something, but kept silent.
    She turned her attention from Colin to Rosamund, smiling down on her with lovely long lashes that framed twinkling eyes. She possessed slight lines that creased at the corners as if she’d favored others, just like Rosamund, with thousands of polished smiles before.
    “Lady Rosamund Easling.” Colin’s voice was even, but tinged with a layer of something Rosamund hadn’t noticed in him before. Indecision maybe? She hoped she hadn’t judged it correctly. “This is Bella Rossi—one of the Rossi Family Flyers. They have top billing in the show.”
    “ Lady Easling?” Bella questioned.
    Ward took the opportunity to jump in, nodding with enthusiasm. “Right. She is an actual lady. Can you believe it? Daughter of an earl with a doozy of an estate in Yorkshire.” He leaned in to Bella’s side, whispering with his sandwich in hand, “That’s just north of here.”
    Bella narrowed her eyes at him in a slight glimmer of superiority.
    A piece of bread drifted from his parcel to the ground, just grazing the polished edge of her black wingtips. Bella looked down at it, then returned her glare to his face. It was subtle, but enough that Rosamund caught the instruction for him to step