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“Oh, of course.”

They moved farther along, stopping at the fudge shop for Winnie to purchase a bag before the two of them stood outside together, staring at the quaint and cozy atmosphere the Shambles exuded.

“I bet you can’t guess how far back this dates,” Matthew challenged, leaning closer to her to be heard above the crowds and the musician playing “Viva la Vida” on his harmonica in the street over.

“Let me guess,” Winnie said, popping a small piece of fudge in her mouth. “The medieval era?”

“Wait, how did you know that?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

Her gray eyes sparkled as they met with his, a bit of fudge sticking to her lower lip, and his heart leapt. He should not be looking at her lips right now. Fortunately, he knew just the thing to distract himself.

“This street used to be called the Great Fresh Shambles,” he began. “That was because butchers would hang their meat out for people to purchase. At one point, there were thirty-one butchers’ shops here, and the blood from all the meat would just drain right down the road.”

She fell silent, a look of disgust on her face as she chewed another piece of fudge half-heartedly, the other half of the sweet between her thumb and forefinger.

There. That had put a stop to his mind wandering. “Really makes you have an appetite, huh?” he asked.

“Not really,” she mumbled.

“In that case…” He reached forward and stole the other half of her fudge, slipping it into his mouth before she could protest.

“Hey,” she exclaimed in protest.

He merely walked away with a brighter grin.

After the Shambles, the two of them headed for the museums, ending with the York Castle Museum, where Matthew was more than happy to discover Winnie just as enthusiastic about what she saw within the buildings as she was with the outside of them.

She read every detail of the pamphlet she was given, looked at every sign of every exhibit, and commented on everything she found that was even remotely medieval related.

Matthew was dying. How often had he wanted to take a girl on a date to a museum but had stopped himself, knowing they’d lose their sanity from utter boredom?

But not Winnie. She was taking it all in stride and was making him slow down.

Not that they were on a date, of course. This was still purely business-centric. But if they had been on a date, this would have been the best of his life.

At one point, as the two of them walked past displays designed to throw the observer directly into the past—Victorian streets, prison cells, candlestick makers’ shops—Winnie paused, looking up at him with a curious gaze.

“What?” he asked, ducking in his chin. Why was she looking at him like that? Did he have something on his face?

“I was thinking last night before I fell asleep,” she began.

He narrowed his eyes, waiting. “Yes?”

“I was thinking about how you shouldn’t give up on your dream of teaching.”

“Oh?” Matthew asked, slightly distracted. Did she just admit to thinking of him last night…while she was in bed?

Get ahold of yourself, Matthew.

“There are different ways you could make it happen, you know?” Winnie continued. “Instead of a fancy university at first, you could settle for a while with one of the local schools near enough to commute to. Or you could teach virtually so you wouldn’t have to go anywhere at all. You could even set up online courses with your own curriculum and find people interested in the same things you are.”

Matthew didn’t know what to say. That level of thoughtfulness he was used to from his family, but Winnie?

They stopped in front of one of the displays, a dining room decorated with dark-paneled wood on each wall, an old piano at the back, and a table filled with all manner of delicious-looking wax food.

Instead of facing the room, however, he faced Winnie, his eyes roving over her features. He still couldn’t believe this was the same woman as before. The one he’d despised and expected the worst from.

He’d been so stupid, so blind as to not have seen the real Winnie until now.