“Aye, he said the ache in his knee was telling him ‘twould be even worse than the one we had last winter.”
The storm last winter had stranded Arie on Thaddeus St. Simon’s farm. Arie had finally realized she need not make sacrifices for her sisters and she grasped her chance at happiness. She and Thad wed in the spring and she’d given her sisters a niece to dote on at the beginning of September.
Fran had delivered the babe using a method she’d called Caesarean, and she and her new husband Mac had stayed long enough to make sure the mother and child were well before returning to London. Fran had sent word via telegram last week they’d be coming home for Christmas. The only sister who wouldn’t be joining them was Cece. Her most recent letter had been addressed to all of them and she’d informed them of her decision to remain in Scotland for the holidays. Jess would sorely miss Cece’s sympathy and willing ears. Even if her youngest sister couldn’t solve her dilemma, her gentle words were like a balm and eased the heart.
The bell chimed behind her, just as Jess was going to ask her chatty companion if her husband had any further predictions. She felt a familiar prickle at her nape and knew who had just entered the mercantile.
“Fancy seeing you here, Miss Wainwright,” he rumbled just over her ear.
Jess kept a tight grip on her reticule and let it ground her. She’d managed to avoid him for two weeks, and now she was trapped. If she was rude, it would be observed and commented on. “I think many of us are stocking our larders because of the impending storm.”
“Caris sent me here for flour because she has half the household securing the windows and making windbreaks to wedge under the doors.”
“See, lass? I told you my John’s bones were right. Even the superintendent is preparing for what’s coming.”
“How fare you, Mrs. Conry?”
He must have moved closer, because Jess swore she could now feel the rumble of his voice through the thick wool of her cloak. She fought the urge to pull up the hood and block the vibrations.
“We fare well, Mr. Morgan. Please accept my thanks once more for your intervention at the mill. John needed Hugh’s help to get in the harvest. It would have rotted in the field if you hadn’t spoken a sharp word to the millwright about the boy’s hours.”
“I was glad to be of service, Mrs. Conry,” Cadoc said.
The flutter of hair at her nape alerted Jess he’d bowed.
Jess was relieved when only Mrs. Conry stood between her and the harried shopkeeper.
She gave the man a bright smile when she reached the front of the queue. “I need flour and sugar, and two spools of red thread.”
“We’re out of sugar, Miss Wainwright, and I can only give you five pounds of flour.”
“That’s fine Mr. Bennett, we can make do with the honey we have left instead.”
As the man packaged up her purchases, Cadoc leaned forward again. “I hope you have plenty of coal and blankets, as well, Miss Wainwright.”
“Not that it is any of your concern, but yes, we do, Mr. Morgan.”
“Just making certain there is something to warm your bed at night,” he murmured into her ear.
“You cannot be seen whispering in my ear, Mr. Morgan,” Jess whispered back. “It will set the tongues wagging.”
“If I convey you to your home, will it cause tongues to wag?”
“You know it will. You are much too forthright in your pursuit. You’ll have my answer in one week.”
“I am eager to accept your surrender.”
“This is not a battle, sir.”
“You may delude yourself as long as you like, madam,” he countered just as Mr. Bennett slid her packages across the wooden counter.
Jess counted out three pence for her purchase, thanked the shopkeeper, and turned back around. “I shall see you at the chorale, Mr. Morgan.”
The sky had darkened to an ominous purplish blue while Jess waited in the mercantile, and a few solitary flakes already danced in the air. She wound her scarf more tightly about her throat and pulled her bonnet firmly over her ears. The breeze was quite brisk and the rain from yesterday was already freezing in patches along the lane.
The cottage she shared with her sisters was less than a quarter of a mile, and her packages were light. Jess could easily avoid the treacherous spots and make it safely home on foot.
She settled her purchases more firmly in her arms and set off. She was halfway home when a mighty gust of wind nearly knocked her to the ground. She struggled against it, lowering her head to hide her eyes from the stinging bits of ice it carried with it.
