We stepped out of the street and onto the walking path, under a hanging sign for Mrs. Brandon’s Bakery. The idea hit me so suddenly and with such force I stopped as though I’d run straight into the shop wall. Just under the sign was the bakery bow window, displaying loaves of fresh bread and cheesecakes.Cheesecakes!
“I’ve just had the grandest idea.”
Liza did not ask, likely because she did not want to know. Charlie, however, indulged me.
He followed my pointing finger to the sign, then back to me. His eyes seemed to glisten in the sun. “Number four?”
I looked to Liza. “We can take them on our picnic and eat as much as we want.” I stepped back toward the bakery door.
Liza hesitated, like she wanted to argue but could think of no good reason. She looked up at the sign, then at the bakery window, and swallowed. “I do love cheesecakes.”
I bounced on the balls of my feet. Victory, at last! “Yes! You do. And you desperately love me.”
She gave me a reproving smile. “But I am relaxing on this picnic,” she said, pointing a finger at Charlie’s chest. “There will be no mischief of any kind.”
His lips twitched. “Agreed.”
The bell over the door rang as we entered Mrs. Brandon’s little shop. One wooden table was pushed up under a small window. The front counter waited for us at the end of the shop with a large scale sitting beside baskets of yeasty-smelling bread and pastries.
Mrs. Brandon appeared from a narrow doorway behind the counter. “Good day. Miss Newbury, Miss Ollerton. What can I get you?”
A slow smile crept upon my lips, and I glanced sideways at Charlie. Excitement pulsed through the air like gusts of wind. He didn’t have to say anything for me to know he approved of my choice.
“I should like to buy all of your cheesecakes.” I raised my chin and set my reticule upon the counter.
Mrs. Brandon’s brows raised to her hairline. “All?”
“All.”
She rubbed her hands on her apron and blinked. “There must be three dozen. They are my most desired.”
“Wonderful. Package them up nicely, if you please.” The bread smelled delightful. “And these five loaves of bread, that basket of hot cross buns—and do I smell marzipan?”
Mrs. Brandon’s jaw had gone slack. She was younger than she looked, but the shock in her eyes erased a few years. “Y-yes. Just freshly made for the afternoon rush, Miss Newbury.”
“I shall take all of that as well.”
Charlie coughed behind a hand to cover his humor. Liza shook her head and pursed her lips.
“In fact,” I continued, “we shall need some butter for our bread. And something with icing. Do you have any queen cakes?”
Mrs. Brandon nodded.
I raised my pointer finger. “Here’s an idea. I shall purchase the entire lot, everything you’ve made today, for two pounds.”
“Two—” Liza blurted, then covered her mouth with a hand.
For a moment I thought Mrs. Brandon might faint. Two pounds was likely more than she made in a week. Charlie stepped closer to Mrs. Brandon as though he’d had the same thought.
She swallowed. “That is much too generous.”
“Consider the surplus payment for your speedy packaging. We have a picnic to attend.” I offered her a smile, which she returned slowly. In a blink, she’d vanished, and within a quarter hour, I had paid for five large boxes of every delicious thing Mrs. Brandon had made that day.
And I was salivating.
A servant placed the boxes carefully on the floor of the Ollertons’ carriage, and Charlie, Liza, and I squished together nearest the door.
“Poor woman. She looked as though she’d seen a ghost when we left with all her goods,” Liza said as the carriage rolled out of town.
