The Scot Who Loved Me by Gina Conkle

Author:Gina Conkle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2021-05-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

They crossed Horn Yard onto Stoney Lane. Sunshine sneaked through gritty clouds, shining grandly on the road’s questionable muck and more questionable puddles. He was a man on a mission, following a woman on a mission to shop as quickly as possible. If Will didn’t know any better, he’d say Anne wanted to lose him in the late morning crowd.

“Why the hurry, Mrs. Neville?”

“I had planned to shop alone.” Anne stopped their progress to let three carters pass. “It’s easier that way.”

“And deny me the privilege of carrying your basket?”

She gave him the side-eye. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re holding it to make sure I don’t give you the slip.”

“You could be on to something.” His ham-fisted grip on her basket garnered a queer glance or two, but a sharp glare back reminded Southwark’s good citizens to mind their own business.

Anne pinched her skirts higher and they crossed the road. “Why are you so set on shopping with me?”

“Why are you so set on getting rid of me?”

“I needed to clear my head.”

Drays rumbled by. Two hawkers, scrabbly lads with holes in their coats, took turns crying, “Cockfight, King’s Head Yard!” and “Bare-knuckle brawlers, Morgan’s Lane!” A red-faced matron yelled at a costermonger selling his wares too close to her front door.

“You do your thinking in this?” Which earned him a giggle.

“I make do, as one must.”

Anne was beautiful, mussed hair trailing her back. No straw hat and no carmine lips today. Her humble gray gown reminded him of grisettes, French worker women, shop assistants, servants (and erstwhile lovers) to university students. He’d seen grisettes in Edinburgh. A few inhabited Spitalfields where French Huguenots staked a claim in London, women of lowly circumstances but no less canny in their gray gowns of small cost.

“And why are you with me? I thought you had errands of your own to attend,” she said.

Because I want to win your heart, lass. Risky words to say aloud. Instead, he chose the safer, “Because I want to talk to you and enjoy the pleasure of your company, Mrs. Neville.”

“Oh?” Her stride was easy, companionable.

Pattens made Anne four inches taller, putting her head very near his shoulder, like their kiss on the stairs. They approached St. Olave’s Street where vicars and harlots and red-coated soldiers patrolled the road. A pair of mail coaches trundled by. Pretty young flower girls, their baskets brimming, sold their wares on busy corners. Anne pointed to a wooden sign across the street with a white mortar and pestle painted on a field of black.

“That’s my last stop. The apothecary.” She spoke above the road’s noise, her shoulder bumping his. “There’s a quiet spot on the other side of Black Ravens Court. I’ll take you there and you can explain this business of wanting the pleasure of my company.”

A thrill bloomed in his chest. This was promising.

They set off across the street, Anne at one side and her basket of candles and coffee beans on the other.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.