Chapter EightEver since she was a small child, Lucy had loved fairs. Her father had taken her to many and she had never failed to be fascinated by the clustering throngs of gaily dressed humanity, the merry-making, the excitement.
Pendleton Fair was only a small, local event, but the population of many surrounding villages seemed to have turned out in force. One had to be on one's guard against the bands of pick-pockets who roamed around, looking for a woman absorbed in gossip or a man the worse for ale, who would not feel the light, dexterous fingers in their pocket or see the hand creeping into their cloak or basket.
She had now spent five whole weeks with Rory, Smithy and Pat. The attitude of Rory's companions towards her had mellowed, especially when they discovered that she knew eve
