Meet me at midnight.
Yours in heart till death depart.
Charmed, she nearly pressed her nose to the glass but for her wide hat. The longing building inside her became a full-fledged ache.
Early in their courtship, Henri had hinted at giving her a posy ring. Why had he not? Rather, why did it matter? She turned on her heel with renewed purpose and walked on to Carter’s store. Up the bricked steps and through the jingling door she went, always at home among her fellow merchants.
“What d’ye buy, Miss Shaw?” the shopkeeper asked, despite being busy with other customers.
“Pounce and wax.” Esmée took in the many shelves and displays crowded with all manner of tempting goods in a dizzying array. She missed the familiar York shops, but truly Williamsburg dazzled.
The shopkeeper’s voice carried pleasantly. “What you seek is at the back, in the south corner opposite the men’s coats.”
Thanking him, she slowly made her way in that direction, perusing cheesecake pans and ambergris wash balls, buttons and hand fans and handkerchiefs, China toy tea ware and imported garden seed. An embroidered bergère hat with velvet ribbons begged closer perusal, yellow silk roses adorning it. As she took the hat from its stand, she glanced past the display to the man in the near corner before a gilt-edged looking glass. And froze.
Henri?
What an arresting picture he made, even with his back to her. The coat he tried on was of fulled wool, suitable for winter, with a collar and deep cuffs. It fit his wide-set shoulders snugly before falling to the tops of his black boots. This one was a smoky gray, while the shop clerk held another in Prussian blue.
“Do you have a preference, sir?” the clerk asked.
A pause. Henri had a knack for weighing his words before speaking.
“The blue one,” Esmée whispered behind their backs.
Brow arched, the clerk turned toward her, as did the captain. Surprise crossed both their faces, and then Henri shrugged off the gray coat and exchanged it for the blue one. With a bob of his head, the clerk bowed and excused himself, leaving them alone.
“Blue it is,” Henri said with aplomb, turning back to the mirror.
Taking a deep breath, Esmée stepped clear of the hat display, forgetting she still clutched the bergère. Her head swam traitorously. She’d not eaten since breakfast, and then only sweet cake.
He looked at her reflection in the mirror, meeting her eyes. “So you are not only a chocolatier but a purveyor of men’s garments.”
“We are old friends, are we not?” She came to stand beside him, her wide petticoats brushing the leg of his breeches. “And as your friend I can make recommendations about your coat. Though the gray is handsome enough, you are altogether elevated in blue.”
“Your turn.” He faced her, gaze falling from her face to the hat she held. “Try it on.”
He reached out a hand to hold the bergère as she pulled the hatpins from her hair and removed the plain bonnet she wore. As she set the hat in place, the admiration in his eyes warmed her all over. She scarcely consulted the looking glass. Yet she must have the hat.
“I know nothing of women’s fashion, Miss Shaw, but it does become you ... more than a little.”
So they were back to formal names, were they? The sting of it poked a hole in her swelling pleasure. Still, she smiled at him, caught up in this cozy corner while the world spun around them.
“Thank you, Captain. I believe I shall buy it.”
He took off the greatcoat and folded it over one arm while she removed her new hat. Stepping to the mirror, she pinned her old hat back into place.
“What brings you to Williamsburg?” The intensity of his gaze nearly made her forget his question.
“My father had meetings of which I’m sure you were a part. And I’m always happy to see my sister.”
“Lord Drysdale was absent today. Please give him and Lady Drysdale my regards.”
“I shall. We expect him home late this evening.” She paused, awkwardness building. But she was unwilling to end their chance encounter. “Are you lodging in town?”
“At the Raleigh, as palace quarters are full. But alas, Williamsburg has no harbor. And no Shaw’s Chocolate.”
That cheered her, though he’d yet to darken their door. “You miss the sea.”
