Her escorts exchanged a look.
“I’m in the mood for lunch,” Raghu announced.
“Me, too,” Phillip hurried to agree.
“That would be good. I think I’m getting cranky,” Wendy admitted with a sigh.
Both men wisely said nothing.
Fortunately, the hot-food section was not far. The enticing scents of baked bread and sizzling meats beckoned them onward. Wendy couldn’t decide between ulutoo and a fish curry. Raghu chose for her by purchasing both. He also bought some cassava pudding for good measure.
By the time the trio had gobbled their street fare, the sun was nearing its zenith. Satiated but beginning to overheat, Wendy readily agreed with the suggestion to head back. Her feet were also starting to whine about the cobblestones in this portion of the market. It was faster to cut through the section of wearable goods, so they tromped past many of the stalls they had already perused.
“Wendy!”
Why does my name sound so melodious on that man’s lips?she asked herself as she turned tolook for Hook.
He stood at the cobbler’s stand and held out a pair of boots to her. “Try these on.”
She looked down at her feet, then back up at him in disbelief. “My feet are dirty.”
“He doesn’t mind.” Hook brushed aside her concern and shook the shoes at her. One look at the cobbler said he did mind but was keeping his mouth shut.
“Fine.” Wendy sat on the stool in front of the stall and slid her foot into the boots. She shrugged. “They’re fine.”
“Stand up. Take a few steps,” Hook badgered.
Wendy did as he said and discovered that the heels pinched but her feet slid forward to slam against the toes of the boots, which was even more uncomfortable. When she said as much, the cobbler nodded and pulled out a few selections that he affirmed would fit much better. Two pairs later, they found the perfect fit.
Beautifully supple leather in a soft gray now hugged her feet. Wendy had been embarrassed by the price that Hook paid without blinking an eye. Feeling a bit shy, she offered him a genuine thank-you. He acknowledged her gratitude, then gestured for her to walk ahead of him. When she tried to do so without putting on the boots, he guided her back to the stool with a firm hand. Her protests that she wanted to wash her feet first were squashed when he pointed out that she was limping.
Back on the ship, Hook left to attend to whatever captainly business he had. Wendy asked Phillip where she could find somewashing-up water. He offered to deliver a bucket to her room. She thanked him and hurried to the cell, eager to remove her boots to prevent further dirt transfer. Upon arrival, she noticed a number of parcels on the desk.
Quickly kicking off her footwear, she set it to the side and approached the bounty.
“Disa, are you in here?”
A blur raced around the room, then resolved into a sheerie as he hovered at face level. “Yup!”
“Were you here when these packages arrived?” she asked, running an exploratory finger over the twine on one of them.
“Yup.”
“Who delivered them?”
“No-tongue.”
“Smee?” she pressed.
“Mmhmm.”
“Thank you, Disa,” she said absently, already reaching for the top parcel.
Wendy unwrapped a set of stockings and other undergarments. A blush flared to life as she realized Hook must have had a hand in this. Smee could have been acting of his own volition, of course, but she doubted it. She opened the rest of the gifts with some unease. In addition to the unmentionables, she also uncovered three dresses, a good brush, a small hand mirror, and some fripperies.
A knock on the door told her that Phillip had arrived. The sweet boy had brought a full bucket of clean water and a towel. He surprised her with a large piece of canvas, as well. Mentioning that it was an old sail that they practiced mending stitches on, he offered to help her hang it to create a screen.
After the screen was hung and Phillip left, she checked that both doors were locked, then set about bathing from a bucket once more. “Cleanliness must truly be close to godliness,” Wendy whispered happily.
