It was gray and slightly foggy.
Mrs. Lamont’s lips twitched. “Quite.”
“Perfect for a picnic. Or perhaps a garden party of the more dreary variety.”
They turned a corner and Mrs. Lamont stopped. Had she not been carrying a basket with her, she would probably have placed both hands on her hips. Instead, she jutted her chin up and stared him straight in the eye. “Is there no one else in London for you to pester?”
“Not at this hour.”
“Well, then...” Her brow puckered. William decided he liked her like this – a little irritated and slightly off balance. “Surely you must have an errand to see to since you decided to venture out so early.”
“I merely desired a walk.” He took her by the arm and resumed his progress, forcing her to come along with him. “Now that you’re here I even have company. Allow me to carry your basket.”
She locked her fingers more firmly around the handle and moved it out of his reach. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you.”
He smiled at her. “Have you always been so stubborn and unwilling to accept help?”
“My parents taught me the value of self-reliance.”
“Self-reliance is one thing. Trampling on a gentleman’s honor is quite another.” He kept his tone light because he knew he was being unreasonable. But for some peculiar reason, he really wanted her to accept him, to lean on him a little, and to regard him as a friend instead of an adversary.
Her mouth twisted. She glanced up at him. A sigh followed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
William’s chest expanded. Victory! Forcing back the boyish grin that threatened to stretch across his entire face, he took the basket from her and tucked her hand more securely in the crook of his arm. There. Much better.
“Where are we off to, by the way?”
“To the vegetable market.”
“Is that all?”
“For now.”
She walked stiffly by his side, her discomfort with the close proximity undeniably obvious. He knew he was being too forward, but keeping his distance from her felt wrong. There was a curious rightness to having her close.
William had never visited a market of any kind before. He’d had no need to, so the early morning hustle and bustle intrigued him. Keeping a firm hold of Mrs. Lamont, he allowed her to lead him between the stalls. Occasionally, she’d stop to consider a product. She might even pick it up and turn it over a number of times before putting it back.
William watched with baffled amusement. “What was wrong with those onions?”
“Too squishy,” she informed him.
“And the asparagus?”
“Wrong shade of green.”
“I never realized shopping for food was such a challenge.”
“Having the right produce can make the difference between an edible meal and one that will leave your belly aching.” She drew him toward yet another stall. “Now these asparagus look fresh. See the tips, how solid they are? And they’re lighter in color as well.”
William picked one up while Mrs. Lamont began bargaining with the vendor. “What will you use them for?”
Her eyes sparkled when she glanced up at him. “You’ll see.”
William could scarcely wait. He’d never been very fond of asparagus, but with Mrs. Lamont’s culinary skill taken into account, he had a feeling that was about to change. And he simply loved how enthusiastic she was about everything she selected.
“Here, smell this,” she said, shoving a mushroom toward him.
His instinct was to recoil from the filthy looking thing she held between two fingers. Instead, he leaned in and took a hesitant sniff.
