Lucy liftedanother bar of soap and brought it to her nose. She didn’t actually care about the scent, but Mr. Harrison was at the millinery, and she’d managed to avoid joining him by professing an avid interest in soapmaking. She’d been accompanying Mr. Harrison for four days, and thus far, she didn’t feel like she knew him any better than she had after their first day together. Actually, on their first day he’d been downright talkative compared to now. Is this what marriage to him would be like? Silence, interrupted by Lucy starting up random conversations that only lasted a few minutes because they were so one-sided? When he’d picked her up this morning, he’d barely met her eye. If anything, he spoke to her less each day, instead of more.
“Miss Shroud.” Mr. Miner, the soapmaker, called from behind her. Her back stiffened. Spending time in the soapmaker’s shop had worked extremely well, until this morning. The moment she had set foot in the shop, Mr. Miner had smiled broadly at her as if they were old friends. Since then, he’d been following her around, answering her questions more intently than usual. “If you would like, you could come back this evening. I am making a new batch of soaps—this one with rose petals. I could show you the process.”
Lucy’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth, but had no idea what to say to the man. She was fortunate that he was standing behind her and couldn’t see her reaction. He was at least twenty years her senior and, up until this morning, had only spoken to her with business-like professionalism.
Mr. Miner leaned forward and the smell of tallow, already thick in the shop, strengthened. “I can see you are very interested in soap. My late wife was also interested in soapmaking. I must admit, it made for a congenial marriage.”
Merciful Heavens. Mr. Miner seemed to be a kind man, but she must have given him the wrong impression by shopping at his store the past four days.
“I’m happy for ye. That must have been a real blessin’. I hope to have a congenial marriage myself someday.” She grasped the locket around her neck, pulled it into her line of sight, then sighed heavily as if she were longing for someone. She rubbed her thumb over the delicate gold filigree case that covered Helena’s portrait. Hopefully Mr. Miner would think the image inside was not of a sister. “Personally, I’m more indecisive thaninterested.” She turned to Mr. Miner. “Ye see, my future mother-in-law is very particular about her soap.”
Mr. Miner stiffened and his face dropped. “I see.” He cleared his throat, shook his head, and walked over to a bin she had browsed the day before. “Then I would recommend my lavender scented soap. It is by far the most popular.”
“I thank ye.” Lucy followed him, grabbed the closest bar of soap to her and walked to the counter. “I’ll take this one.”
She strode out of the store and onto the street, taking a deep breath as soon as the fresh air—free from lye and animal fats—hit her face. She would have to find a different shop to visit every morning. She wouldn’t be able to go back there again.
Mr. Harrison exited the milliner’s shop and headed toward the soapmaker’s, pausing when he saw her already standingoutside of it. He was a complete contrast to the man she had just left in the shop. Where Mr. Miner was bent, Mr. Harrison was unbowed. His shoulders were broad instead of narrow, and most of all, he had a confident manner about him, even in his silence. But the most remarkable contrast between the two men was how positively uninterested in her Mr. Harrison was. He’d seen her—that had been obvious—but he didn’t hold her gaze as they walked toward each other. Most people would have, wouldn’t they? Why couldn’t Mr. Harrison manage even the shortest amount of eye contact?
Was that why he struggled to find a wife on his own?
Still, an unwelcoming Mr. Harrison was much preferable to the all-too-welcoming Mr. Miner. Lucy darted over to him, happy to be away from the soapmaker’s shop. In his hand he held a box with a red ribbon.
Mr. Harrison glanced at her quickly and raised an eyebrow. For a moment, she thought he might want to ask her a question, but if he did, he refrained. Only after he helped her into the cart and they both sat down did he speak. “I see you bought some soap today.” He set his package on the outside edge of the bench. It wasn’t for her, then. Of course it wasn’t. Hewasher fiancé, but he didn’tknowhe was her fiancé. It would be strange and forward of him to buy her something.
Who was the package for, then? They’d made many deliveries to women about the town, but he treated them all with the same business-like manners. The only woman she hadn’t seen him speak to was the millinery shopkeeper, but if it had been for her, he would have just given it to her.
She glanced back to the shop she’d just left. “Aye. It seems I’ve learned all I’m goin’ to learn from the soapmaker.”
He turned his head and the corner of his mouth raised slightly. “Then you won’t be needing to go into Mr. Miner’s shop tomorrow?”
“Nay, I won't.”
He nodded as if he were satisfied.
“But I may visit the bookstore.” The bookstore was farther down the street. It would take her almost all of Mr. Harrison’s time in the millinery to make it there and back. But spending time in a bookstore would make more sense to the owner than a soapmaker. Hopefully she wouldn't cause any more confusion. “Is the bookstore owner…” She paused. How did one ask if the bookstore owner was an unmarried man without sounding…well…as if she were looking for an unmarried man?
“...likely to mistake your interest in books as interest in him?”
Her head whipped to the side, examining his profile. How did he know? She could only see one side of his face, but he was most definitely smiling. “What do ye mean by that?”
“Mr. Miner and I both often eat at the inn. He asked about you last night.”
“He did?”
“Yes.”
“What did ye say to him?”
“I answered his questions.”
“Which were...?”
He turned to her and shrugged. “How long you would be in Fenswallow, whether you were spoken for, and if…” He paused and his eyes went back to the road in front of them.
“If what?”
He rubbed the reins together in his hands and coughed. “If there was an understanding between the two of us.” He grimaced as if the thought gave him pain.
