“Aye, among other things.”
Other things?
She would not let herself think she was one of them. Her eyes met his again, and she found his gaze warm and lively, as if holding some invitation.
He gestured for her to go ahead of him. She did so reluctantly, having forgotten the time. The clock on a far wall told five o’clock. Esmée wanted to still the mechanical hands stealing the moment away from her. She could easily have stood there all night. But the store was closing soon, and a queue of people waited to purchase their goods. Somehow a gentleman got between them, ending any further conversation.
And Esmée realized she had completely forgotten Eliza’s pounce and wax.
CHAPTER
twenty-four
The November morning glowered, threatening rain, but nothing prevented Esmée from heading toward Matthews Street to see Kitty Hart. She’d begun to walk about York more often of late since returning from Williamsburg. Doing so helped clear her head. With those tall-masted ships in the harbor at her back, she wasn’t reminded at every turn of Henri Lennox like she was when at the chocolate shop. On the other hand, she didn’t need reminding, as he’d taken up permanent residence in her headandher heart.
“Good morning, Miss Shaw.” A mob-capped servant bobbed a curtsy as Esmée drew near.
“Is Miss Hart at home?” Esmée asked, and the servant pointed the way.
The tea garden had been readied for winter, a somber sight after the recent black frost. Each flower bed seemed asleep, some covered with thatch, others with earth. At the heart of it all was the brick tearoom with its many windows, a wisp of smoke floating above it like a white flag. Esmée missed the music of the fountain and vendorsstrolling about selling refreshments. Many a romantic assignation had occurred here and still did.
Through the glass of the tearoom, Esmée saw Kitty bustling about in an apple-green gown. She approached, a gift of chocolate in hand. Nothing sounded so good as a steaming cup of tea or cocoa with her closest friend and confidante. If not for Kitty, who would she spill her secrets to?
“Esmée! Your timing is perfect. We just bid goodbye to our last guests.” Smiling, Kitty embraced her and welcomed her in. “As soon as I saw you at the gate, I sent for tea. I’ve a fresh loaf of bread with newly churned butter and a jar of cherry preserves for just such an occasion.”
That was Kitty’s appeal, making much of an ordinary occurrence. Esmée took a seat nearest the coal stove, an ornate contraption that warmed every corner of the tearoom.
“’Tis delightful—warmer than wood!” Esmée stretched out cold fingers, her gloves in her lap. “Does it smoke?”
“More than I like. And coal dust is quite unattractive. I miss wood ash for fertilizing the garden to boot.” Taking a seat opposite her, Kitty eyed a near coal bucket with fire tongs. “But Father is rather pleased with it. Soon all the lumber in the colonies will be gone and coal must suffice, he says.”
Esmée passed her the chocolate. “A little something for when winter truly sets in.”
“Winter, indeed. Have you heard? The almanac predicts early snows.” With a shiver, Kitty opened the sack of shaved chocolate. “I shall weather the season in the tearoom, sipping hot chocolate and reading books.”
“Shall you traipse through the snow?”
“Father is contemplating building a covered passage so we shan’t get our feet wet. But enough of that.” Kitty’s expression turned imploring. “I’d much rather hear about you. I’ve not seen you riding by of late, not even in your coach.”
“I’ve been in Williamsburg. Eliza is wanting company as she nears her confinement, and Father has meetings at the palace.”
“I trust your sister is well. She’s frequently mentioned in theGazette. The baby has hardly slowed her in society.”
“Irrepressible Eliza.” Overwarm, Esmée worked the clasp of her cape free and let it slip from her shoulders. “She’s already searching for a wet nurse and nursemaid.”
“I didn’t expect otherwise. As Lady Drysdale she would have help.”
“I do wonder though...” Esmée paused, voicing her ongoing prayer. “I hope Eliza doesn’t exchange family life for society.”
“Many genteel women do.” Kitty quieted as the maid came in with a tray. “A little gunpowder tea today, shall we?”
“Oh?” Esmée breathed in the welcome aroma. “I was just telling the ladies at Mount Autrey that gunpowder is my favorite.”
“Mount Autrey?” Kitty studied her, then took up the sugar nippers to indulge her habit. “We have much to discuss, then.”
With a slight lift of her shoulders, Esmé replied, “Their nephew, Nathaniel Autrey, is Captain Lennox’s sea chaplain.”
“The captain?” Kitty looked up from the sugar, wide-eyed. “My, how the plot does thicken...”
