“Here are your flowers, miss,” the woman said to her. Ellen turned back to grab them. “It’s best to cut the stems before you put them in water. They last longer.” The woman continued to chat, and she answered as best she could considering her head was full of questions.
“He’s gone,” the flower vendor then said. “You’d best leave. You don’t want to run into him again. To my mind, he seemed awful interested in you. I saw the look he was giving you before he came over.”
“I will, and thank you.” Ellen walked back along the row, thinking the woman was right. She needed to go, and she now had more information to share with Gray.
“Miss Nightingale? Ellen?”
She knew who that voice belonged to. Detective Fletcher was coming toward her. He wore his top hat and black coat, once again the immaculate gentleman, not the unraveled one from a week ago. Ellen smiled at the memory of him telling her she had a very pretty fash, which she guessed meant face.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked.
“Look around you, sir. What is there not to smile about?”
He did as she asked and frowned.
“I’m not sure you should be here if it makes you frown.”
“I believe I owe you an apology, Ellen.”
“I don’t think so.” She matched his solemn tone. “Detective Fletcher, I—”
“For passing out and being carried to a carriage and delivered home,” he cut off her words before she could tell him about the man. “I have never been in such a situation before. Forgive me for my loss of control.”
“Let me put you at ease, Detective Fletcher—”
“I thought we were using first names now?”
“Gray,” Ellen added, taking pity on him. “Everyone has the experience you had the first time they participate in a night around Crabbett Close. Leo emptied the contents of his stomach into Mrs. Greedy’s rosebush. She has yet to forgive him, but as they had the best blooms ever the following year, she is coming around. Alex slept in Mrs. Varney’s front parlor and woke to Tabitha Varney standing over him in her night robe.”
Gray was smiling now, and it made him look younger and devastatingly handsome. Ellen wondered if she would always react to his nearness. Her heart fluttered and she felt a ridiculous urge to sigh.
“I assure you, no apology is necessary.”
“Do the women not drink? Other than the large lady who started with me,” he added.
“Mavis Johns,” Ellen added. “Something of a legend in Crabbett Close.”
“Others have taken part, but it is always the biggest men and Mavis who start as they seem able to hold more alcohol than others. Although once Mrs. Greedy participated, and she outdrank everyone.”
He barked out a laugh. “So I can return to Crabbett Close is that what you’re saying?”
“I am, and you can.”
“I could almost imagine I’d dreamed that entire evening. It was so unlike anything I’ve ever experienced or want to again.”
“Surely it was not that bad.”
“Worse.” But he laughed. “Your brothers will make my life hell.”
“They will, but that too shall pass.”
“What has you here?” He looked around him. “Alone, Ellen?”
“You sound like my uncle. Mungo is outside waiting. Not that I need to offer an explanation for being at the flower markets.”
“There are dangers and criminals everywhere, Ellen. It pays to remember that. I can’t believe your brothers allowed this.”
“Mungo is watching over me by standing on the seat of the carriage. If I do not return at the time he has stipulated, he will come in and find me. I also have my umbrella.” She lifted her coat and showed it hooked to her skirts. “Plus, there are relatives and friends of Crabbett Close residents dotted everywhere.”
