Some Enchanted Evening Read Free Page A

Clarice said.
    Miss Rosabel pulled her tattered shawl closer around her shoulders. "Nay, miss, but thank ye."
    The bandy-legged, mean-eyed, red-cheeked fellow sniggered. "Guid luck with that one. She's fair ugly, and that's na likely to change."
    Miss Rosabel drew her shawl over her lips.
    The other women winced on her behalf.
    Clarice wrapped a supportive arm around her. "Sir, I'll wager you ten pounds I can make her beautiful."
    He stepped up to the front. "Done! Let's see ye make her beautiful" — he looked around with a sneer — "right here in the square."
    He had said exactly what they all said. Exactly what she wanted them to say. Leaning forward, she asked, "What is your name, sir?"
    He folded his arms across his chest. "Billie MacBain, an' what do ye care?"
    "I was wondering, Billie, if you'd like me to make you beautiful too." The roar of laughter was gratifying, proof that she'd not lost her timing or her reading of character. Billie's lack of height and his looks had made him hostile and belligerent, and no one in town liked him. She saw his fists bunch, and added, "But no. You're a fighter, you are, and the best in Freya Crags, I'll wager."
    His hands loosened. His chin rose. He puffed out his chest, but his squinty eyes didn't waver. "Aye, that I am, and ye'd be wise t' remember it, missy."
    She allowed her hand to flutter to her chest. "And a bully to boot, I see." She made him angrier, but the women grinned and nudged each other. She'd made allies of them , and they were, after all, her first and best customers.
    Billie started toward her, fury in his eyes, pain in his fists.
    Her heart leaped to her throat, and for a moment she thought she had gone too far.
    Then the fascinating gentleman put a restraining hand on his arm.
    In a rage Billie swung around, ready to kill the one who halted him. But when he saw who accosted him, he dropped his fist and glared.
    The gentleman shook his head.
    Billie backed away.
    So. The gentleman must be good with a roundhouse. Handsome, tough, and dynamic. He commanded respect — and perhaps some fear.
    Clarice shivered. Certainly he commanded fear from her. She really, really must stay far away from him.
    Her fingers were shaking slightly as she opened her saddlebag and brought forth a soft cloth and a clay jar. Holding up the jar, she announced, "This is a powerful extract of herbs and roots in a gentle cream that refreshes the complexion and brings the first tingle of beauty. Watch as I apply it." Miss Rosabel tilted her chin up as Clarice smoothed the cream on and rubbed it in. "It has the lovely scent of rosemary and mint, and a special secret ingredient known only to the women of my royal family*"
    "Gold, frankincense, and myrrh," the alewife mocked.
    "You're only partly right," Clarice responded. "Of course, my kingdom is far from Bethlehem, but the trade routes were established long ago, back in the mists of time, and my country is known for its mountains, its treasures, and its beautiful women." She laughed at the old men who stood under the eaves of the alehouse, craning their necks to watch her.
    Five identical, almost toothless smiles shot back at her, and one ancient fellow collapsed against the wall, his hand on his chest in faked spasms.
    The alewife smacked him with her shawl.
    Like some peculiar Greek chorus, the other old men chortled in unison, amused by their compatriot and charmed by her.
    She loved old men. They said what they thought, they laughed when they wanted, and they always liked her, no matter what. Always.
    With the cloth Clarice gently wiped the cream off Miss Rosabel's face. She urged Miss Rosabel to stand straight with her shoulders back, gentled the severe line of hair around her face, and pushed her toward the front of the platform.
    The crowd gave a gratifying gasp.
    "Yes, imagine that — an improvement in only five minutes!" Clarice pointed as she spoke. "Her dark circles are gone, and her skin is pink and healthy looking." More