Secret Lessons with the Rake by Julia Justiss

Author:Julia Justiss
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-10-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

A short time later, their hackney set them down where the stalls of the street market began. If his cronies at the gaming houses with deep play and light ladies could see him now, Christopher thought with a grin. Bear-leading an urchin and a reformed courtesan to purchase brooms, scouring powder and cabbages.

But if it meant spending time with Ellie, he’d look at tooth powder and coal scuttles.

They had not gone more than a few steps when the competing voices of the merchants and salesmen crying their wares and the hustle-bustle of a diversity of people engaged his interest on their own behalf. ‘What an assembly!’ he called to Ellie over the hubbub, both of them pacing to keep Artis in sight as she darted in and out around pedestrians, stalls, wheelbarrows and donkey carts.

‘Fascinating!’ Ellie said, her eyes alight with curiosity. ‘I would never have expected such a vast array of goods at a street market.’

Seeming to have a destination in mind, Artis led them past stalls hung with tin saucepans, displays of glassware shiny as mirrors that caught and reflected the bright sunlight, bins of china and pottery in different hues. They tiptoed along the kerb to avoid tripping over a line of second-hand shoes, while an assortment of shirts, trousers, and vests pinned to a cord flapped in the breeze at them.

Artis finally stopped before a baker’s stand in one of the busiest sections. ‘Best bread and buns you ever tasted,’ she announced.

‘Right you are, young miss,’ the baker called back. ‘How many loaves can I get you, my lady? And maybe an extra bun for you, miss, for crying my wares for me?’

‘Six loaves, please,’ Ellie said, retrieving her purse.

Artis reached out for the roll. ‘Thankee, sir. Didn’t used to treat me so nice when I hung about, hoping to filch a bun while yer back was turned.’

The baker leaned closer to peer at her. ‘Why, you be that starving scamp of a boy I had to keep chasing off!’ he said in amazement.

‘Aye. Don’t do no filching now, but ye should be thankful I did afore, else I wouldn’t have known to bring you this lady here. Mind now, don’t you be charging her more than tuppence a loaf—I heard ye calling it out often enough.’

‘It’s a right fine lass ye make,’ the baker said as he parcelled up the loaves and handed them to Artis, who tucked them into her basket.

‘Thankee. I’m a student at her school now, and she’s got seven mouths to feed every day. Be worth yer while to send a boy there every morning.’

‘I expect so, if you’d like an order every morning, ma’am?’

‘For tuppence a loaf I would,’ Ellie replied.

After giving the baker the address on Dean Street, Artis led them off, happily munching her roll. And eating it daintily, Christopher noticed—a far cry from the starving urchin who’d torn into the damaged meat pasty like a wild dog that day in Green Park. What a service Ellie was providing, in truth!

‘Thank you, Artis,’ Ellie was telling her.

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