“And what toys delight Rupert?” Henry asked, somewhat relieved to know the child didn’t belong to her, although he could not think why. He was certain he’d love anyone Anne loved.
“Everything delights him. A scrap of material fascinates him, and a wooden spoon keeps him occupied for hours.”
“I see,” Henry said, thinking of Alice’s colorful wooden blocks and finely crafted rocking horse.
“Of course, he has toys of his own, too. His mama makes him animals from scraps of fabric, and his papa carved a little wooden ship for him before he sailed out to sea. It’s a shame he has to be away from his little boy for so long. Poor Rupert won’t even recognize him when he returns.”
“When will that be?”
“I’m not sure.”
Henry nodded and wondered how that would change Anne’s situation in the house. If Mr. Taylor were a decent sort, she’d be fine, but if he wasn’t—” Henry shook the thought from his mind.
“When I was a little girl, I liked to play with dolls. Alice is a bit young for a fancy china doll, but it would make a pretty decoration for her room.”
“I’d be indebted to you if you’d help me choose the right doll for Alice.”
“What color is Alice’s hair?” she asked.
“It’s flaxen.”
“Like yours?”
“Yes, the same as her mama’s.”
“And her eyes?”
“Chocolate brown, like her papa’s.”
“That’s easy,” she said. “Little girls want dolls that look just like them. My sisters—” she stopped as if startled by her own words. “I mean—let’s step inside. I daresay the doll maker has at least one flaxen-haired, brown-eyed porcelain beauty in her shop.”
“I daresay she does,” Henry smiled, still wondering why Anne had censored her words.
It seemed that she, too, harbored secrets from the past that she wished to keep locked away.
*
Some fifteen minuteslater, Annabel and Henry exited the toymakers, he with a package containing a beautifully crafted china doll, and she with a parcel containing a stuffed bear dressed in a sailor’s suit for Rupert.
“I can’t let you buy that. It’s too expensive,” she’d protested when he’d suggested the bear for Rupert.
“I can offer you a discount if you buy two items,” the toymaker had interjected.
“That settles it,” Henry had declared. “Wrap them up.”
“Thank you,” she’d remarked when he’d handed her the package. “I would not accept such an extravagant present on my own behalf, but it’s for Rupert—and well, I can’t wait to see the smile it puts on his sweet face.”
“I’m pleased that it’s put a smile on your face, too.”
She met his gaze and saw nothing but kindness in his expression. How could she have let Nate convince her he was a spy for her papa? He was generous and compassionate—everything Lord Craventhorp and her papa were not.
Henry glanced at the afternoon sky. “It’s getting late. You still have time for tea, I hope. My stomach will rebel if I don’t feed it soon.”
“Oh yes, I’m looking forward to it. There’s a place across the street that I’ve been longing to try. It always smells delicious when I walk past, and it’s never short on customers.”
They crossed the street and made their way to a quaint tearoom, which displayed an array of teapots and porcelain cups in its mullioned windows.
Henry held the door for her, and she stepped inside, inhaling the smell of freshly baked goods.
