Page 47 of A Bluestocking’s Secret Courtship

Leda’s inky lashes fluttered in confusion. Evangeline flashed a friendly smile to show she wasn’t displeased and said, “Agora.”

“Nai, nai.” Yes, yes. Leda hurried across the courtyard toward the kitchen.

Once Evangeline was dressed in a gown better suited for the market, they set off. She tried to converse with Leda as best as she could with the limited Greek she knew.

The maid was responsible for teaching Evangeline most of the words in her vocabulary. An effervescent young woman, Leda usually kept up a steady stream of conversation when they were together. She’d point to objects and demonstrate how to pronounce the words in her beautiful native tongue. Today, she seemed withdrawn, and her poor bottom lip would be chewed raw if she kept tormenting it.

Sweetheart troubles again?

Evangeline had stumbled upon Leda arguing with a wiry young man in the courtyard last week. As soon as Evangeline called her name, the man had dashed away, leaving Leda in tears. From what Evangeline had pieced together after a bit, the man was Leda’s intended. The cause of the row remained a mystery—one she didn’t expect to solve.

Perhaps the couple was quarreling again. In lieu of sympathetic words Leda wouldn’t understand, Evangeline offered her a piece of hard candy. Her maid declined.

She sighed and returned the tin to her reticule. “It appears the men in our lives are destined to disappoint us today. I’ve not heard a word from Sir Jonathan.”

Leda mimicked her sigh, reinforcing Evangeline’s sense that they were kindred souls.

She and Leda walked the narrow street in silence, passing servants returning from the market with baskets loaded with onions, garlic, radishes, and lovely fruits that were hard to come by back home. Evangeline had grown especially fond of figs and oranges in their short time in the city.

When Evangeline, Regina, and Xavier had arrived in Athens, she was surprised to learn the market was held only one day a week. The limited availability brought the townspeople out in droves.

Near the entrance of the marketplace, a crowd had gathered around a stunning man with piercing black eyes and fire in his voice. He stood head and shoulders above everyone and punched the sky for emphasis as he delivered his message. Young men nodded, murmuring to each other.

Evangeline slowed her step, mesmerized by the man as much as his audience was. Leda hooked her arm, squeezing tightly and dragging her away from the spectacle.

“Viasýni.” The maid walked quickly with her head down; Evangeline matched her pace. Once they reached the marketplace, Leda released her and gestured to the merchant’s booths. “Nai?”

“Yes, I mean nai.”

Evangeline and Leda strolled the aisle, jostling to reach the produce. Evangeline pointed to the ingredients she needed for the broth, and her maid haggled with the merchants over the price. The exchanges became heated at times, but Leda always walked away with a satisfied smirk.

They were deep into the crowd when Leda stiffened. Her frown alerted Evangeline that something was wrong. Following her maid’s line of sight, she spotted Leda’s betrothed. Absently, he picked up a head of endive. His gaze was locked on Leda.

Perhaps he had come to apologize. Evangeline touched her maid’s arm. “Go to him. I will wait.”

Leda’s brow furrowed, and Evangeline gave her a gentle nudge. “Go.”

Her maid seemed reluctant, but with Evangeline’s urging, she wove through the crowd in his direction. Evangeline lost sight of her.

Eventually, the heat of so many bodies and the cacophony of Albanian, Greek, Turkish, and French servants and merchants arguing over goods became disorienting.

She needed a breath of air. Aiming for the edge of the marketplace, she forged a path through the crowd. The agora wasn’t so large that she and Leda wouldn’t find each other again. As the crowd grew less dense, an overpowering musk filled her nostrils.

A stream of hot breath assaulted her ear. “Where’s yer uncle, miss?”

The guttural English sent shivers up her spine. She spun to face the man with her heart in her throat and took a step back.

“I don’t like hurting no women,” he said in a reasonable tone that chilled her blood. “Answer me now, and I’ll say you ran away.”

“T-to whom?”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s not how it works, miss. I ask a question; you answer. Where is yer uncle hiding? I won’t be asking again.”

She eased away, her gaze darting over the crowd, attempting to catch someone’s eye. They brushed against her as they passed, oblivious to the threats being made against her. “I—I don’t know.”

“Now miss, you know somethin’, I think.” The affable smile never left his face as he tapped a thick finger against his temple. Somehow, his friendly appearance made him more frightening. “I don’t want to rough you up, but I have orders.”

Good Lord! He was serious.