The Bachelor's Bride (The Thompsons of Locust Street #1) - Holly Bush Page 0,16
think.”
She was right. He looked at her and found her staring at him. The initial anger and shock were wearing off, and it had much to do with her counsel. He felt like he could talk to her about anything, but that was not true because he could never tell her why he found out about his father’s affair in the first place. In fact, he wondered if he was putting her in any danger by talking to her publically like this. Certainly, Schmitt was not violent although that was not necessarily true as he’d recently seen him slap the woman from the brothel. He was crude and rough and not necessarily honest, even though he kept whatever inched close to false within the spirit of the law to himself, keeping Alexander out of meetings that might have illuminated that. She was certainly safe from Schmitt’s machinations. Wasn’t she?
But he didn’t want to leave her. She had calmed him and deflated his anger. Whatever his father had done, he was precious to him and alive. Something she could not say of her own father.
“You have been very kind to me, Miss Thompson. Allow me to escort you back to your house.”
She stood, straightened her skirts, and smiled. “I’ll be fine. I can still see my stoop from here. Good day to you.”
“Wait,” he said without the foggiest notion of what he was going to say as he hurried to her. He swallowed. “I would like, very much I would like, to speak to you again. At your convenience, of course.”
She tilted her head and studied him. He waited for her to speak for what seemed like hours, though it was certainly no more than a minute.
“My sister and I will be visiting the outdoor market on Bainbridge and Second Street on Saturday. There are several vendors there who may be interested in our goods. We’ll be there around ten to miss the early morning traffic and those shopping at noontime so we’ll have time to speak to the stand holders.”
He smiled. “I hope you have a successful day.”
“We hope so too,” she said and turned to continue walking down the street toward her home.
Chapter 6
On Saturday, Elspeth and Kirsty walked the six blocks to the market on Bainbridge, taking turns pulling the wagon loaded with Thompson jarred goods. It was a beautiful morning after several days of rain and cold winds that had kept them in the house.
“So I said to Mrs. Cartwright, you must dye your dresses pink and fashion large flowers in paisley silk to adorn the hat. I thought she might paint her walking boots lavender to match,” Kirsty said.
“Oh. Oh yes. That sounds very nice,” Elspeth said.
“She’s going to purchase a donkey and paint him pink too. She thought it would be nice to parade up and down Locust Street on a donkey that matched her dress.”
“A donkey that matched her dress?” Elspeth asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Would it matter what I was talking about, dear sister? You were a hundred miles away in your thoughts. What, or maybe who, could be distracting you so?” she asked with a smile.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Elspeth said, staring straight ahead.
“Of course you don’t! You are too busy dreaming about Mr. Pendergast!”
“I am not dreaming of Mr. Pendergast! I barely know him, and I didn’t have a good impression of him when we were first acquainted.”
“You sat on the bench in front of the park for a full half hour, Elspeth.”
She turned her head sharply. “Surely it was not half an hour! I can hardly believe that.”
“Believe what you will, Elspeth. You sat with Mr. Pendergast for thirty-two minutes. Mrs. McClintok and I watched the clock.”
“Mrs. McClintok?”
“She was the one who originally opened the door, of course. She was as concerned about you as I was.”
“Mr. Pendergast was a perfect gentleman. We were never in private to fuel someone’s speculation,” Elspeth said. “He was upset and just wanted to talk. That’s all.”
“Let us hope no one tells Muireall. Here’s the market, and there is the first stall on our list. Come along,” Kirsty said.
But Elspeth had not moved. She swallowed and looked at her sister. “I feel as though I’ve betrayed her somehow, and I don’t even know why.”
“Muireall? She’ll probably never know. Come now. Everyone will be more likely to overlook some lapse if we come home with a long list of new customers.”
“Where are we going again?” Annabelle Pendergast asked her brother.