“Yes, I was,” she lied. If she confessed to the nature of her thoughts, he might just kiss her, and then they may never get to the frost fair.
The closer the coach got to the Thames, the more she leaned toward the vehicle’s window because she could hear the crowds. When they reached the river, she stepped out onto the embankment with a gasp. The river was truly frozen over, and for nearly two miles on the ice, a town had been constructed. Wooden huts, vast canvas tents, and all other manner of stalls had been hastily constructed. Thousands of people were on the ice, and the noise of it, the cacophony of the impromptu village, was startling.
“Quite the thing, eh?” Martin asked with a chuckle. He gave her his arm, and she looped hers through his as they began to walk down the slope to the
