“Do you know, all this fresh air has made me hungry,” he said. “Is there a place in town for tea?”
“More than one.”
“Would you like to accompany me?”
“Oh, I should love to,” she said with a smile. “It’s been some time since I’ve had a proper tea.”
“Well,” he said, “then we shall have a tea that outshines all others—a tea to remember.”
They crossed the bridge into the village and made their way through Canterbury’s narrow streets, eventually coming to the canopied Butter Market, where a plump, middle-aged woman beckoned them with tiny wedges of cheese on a platter. A little boy raced forward and stretched a hand toward the tray, but the woman moved it out of his reach.
“Buyers only!” she barked, and the child scampered away.
“Poor thing,” Anne said.
“He ain’t poor; he’s a butcher’s son an’ has plenty sausages to fill his belly. Now, go ahead and give my cheese a taste. All lovingly made by yours truly.”
Anne accepted a tiny wedge and chewed thoughtfully. “That is delicious. Quite creamy.”
“The young lady likes it! Would the gentleman care to make her a gift of cheese?”
“Why not? Wrap up a crown’s worth.”
“I couldn’t eat a whole crown’s worth of cheese,” Anne protested.
“Half crown, then,” Henry instructed the cheesemonger.
“That’s still too much.” Anne laughed.
“You’re Mrs. Taylor’s lodger, ain’t ya? I’m sure she will appreciate a bit o’ cheese. I hear you have a fella from Whitstable who delivers you fresh fish ‘an oysters every week. Must be nice to have so many gentlemen feeding ya.”
“Thank you,” Henry said tightly, “but I believe the lady has changed her mind.”
“Aww, come now? I’ve already wrapped it up. You asked for it; now you must pay for it!”
Anne reached up and snatched the parcel from the cheesemonger. “There now, be quiet. You’re causing a stir.”
Henry glowered at the woman and shoved a coin into her outstretched hand.
“Come back again,” she called as they walked away. I’ll be here next week. Bring any gentleman you like. It’s all the same to me, so long as he has coins in his pocket.”
“Silly woman,” Anne said, slipping the wrapped cheese into a deep pocket in her skirt.
“Rather uncouth, to say the least,” Henry mumbled. The cheesemonger’s comment about the fish deliveries irked him. Mr. Trawler irked him. What were the man’s intentions? He seemed far too protective over Anne to be a mere friend. But Henry barely knew Anne, and he had no right to question her.
They turned onto Sun Street, which bustled with people and hosted an array of businesses. Henry stopped in front of a toymaker’s shop, contemplating the display in its mullioned windows. China dolls with painted faces, meticulously sewn dresses, and lifelike hair sat in various poses.
“I wonder if I can enlist your help in finding a present for my cousin’s daughter. I’m embarrassed that I arrived empty-handed at my cousin’s house without anything for her little one.”
“How old is she?”
Henry frowned, realizing he wasn’t certain of the child’s exact age. He did a quick calculation of the months since her birth in his mind and came up with the answer. “She’s around fifteen months.”
Anne laughed. “That’s a darling age. My Rupert is only six months, and so much fun.”
“Your Rupert?” Henry said, mulling her words over in his mind. He hadn’t considered that she might have a child. But why shouldn’t she? After all, she’d been married.
“Not mine, exactly. He’s Mrs. Taylor’s child. But I love him as dearly as if he were my own.”
