Of course, they're from different times, so the rumors Arabella knows, they're the more benign ones, relatively. Of the feats Jonathan Strange carried out in the peninsula, of his friendship and rivalry with Norrell, of what falling out may have caused him to quit London so abruptly ... though their different views on magic are not quite a matter of public record, their difference in temperament and joviality most certainly is.

Smiling wryly, Arabella reaches down to set her hand over Strange's, shaking her head and searching his (odd, changed, but still his) face while her fingers curiously feel out the shape of his claws.

"If you had stayed in Shropshire and never become the king's magician, you wouldn't be a subject of rumor to begin with." Of course, there were plenty enough rumors about young master Strange to begin with -- country folk gossip just as much as any court -- but at least those would be kept to ordinary things! She dislikes it, how freely people can speak of him and how some assume a kinship they don't have (like that toad, Drawlight) merely because of moving in the same circles, but all the same...

"I can't imagine what they'd say about you joining a carnival," she sighs, leaning against his chest. It's funny, now that she's thinking about it -- it feels like it's been a dreadfully long time since they could be together like this, in public but not the center of attention.