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They laughed, and Molly accepted that whatever his vigilance, he was poised to enjoy the visit. The cries of the hawkers and costermongers drowned out their laughter as they made their way.
The chilly air was scented with fresh greenery and roasting nuts. She smiled at the carts being moved to and fro full of holly, ivy, and boughs of evergreen. Tonight she and the other maids would strew whatever Mrs. Taylor acquired around the basement, even in the storeroom.
Navigating through the throngs, Molly had every excuse to stay close to Frederick, and Thomas trailed behind them so closely he stepped on her skirts twice.
“Sorry, miss,” he yelled again over the din.
When after a spell, Molly couldn’t sense him behind her, she and Frederick turned, searching the sea of people.
“There he is,” Frederick said close enough to the shell of her ear that his breath warmed her. “By the sweets stall.”
She laughed, though just for a moment; it became unbearably poignant to watch the young man stare at the rainbow of confections in glass jars. In the last months of regular meals and sleep, the lad had shot up and stood taller than Molly now.
Frederick cut through the crowd until they reached the sweet-smelling stall.
“Select a jar,” he said to the boy. “Which would you like?”
Thomas’s face fell. “Don’t know. I've never 'ad sweets before.”
Molly settled a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Peppermint humbugs are my favorite. Would you like to try them? Or perhaps some candied peel? You liked the marmalade.”
“What’s peppermint like, miss?” he asked, staring at the ground.
At a loss for words, she turned to Frederick.
“It’s fresh, as if a clean breeze is sweeping your mouth. Yet sweet.”
Thomas grimaced. “I don't know if I want me mouth ter befresh!”
After finishing a sale, the vendors—a couple whose rotting and missing teeth advertised the allure of their products—descended on them, trying to pull Thomas into the stall.
“Don’t touch me!” After the boy let loose with a string of shocking language, the couple simply gave up on him and moved to Molly.
Frederick stepped in front of her, shooing the couple back to their wares and following to handle the transaction. Molly and Thomas waited for him off to the side, surprised when he exited the stall withtwosmall jars of sweets.
“Come, let’s make our way out to the square,” he suggested.
Thomas led the way this time, carrying the purchases.
“Thank you, Frederick,” she said, squeezing his arm.
It was a relief to reach the open square, though it, too, was lively.
“Fried eels!”
“Roasted chestnuts, a penny a score!”
“Ho! Come and look at `em! Turnips here!”
Taking Thomas’s arm now, Frederick weaved through the carts pulled by donkeys, the men and women with trays atop their heads, and the wheelbarrows and carts. He stopped in a quieter spot, where they could stand and observe the mayhem without being overwhelmed.
“Which would you like to try first?” she asked with a smile.
Thomas held up the two clear jars, swallowing as he looked helplessly from the sugar-crusted strips of orange peel to the black-and-white striped pyramidal sweets.
“Let’s allow Molly to select first, lad,” Frederick urged.
Molly’s mouth watered as she accepted the jar of humbugs Thomas dutifully passed. As soon as she opened it, she gasped at the delightful scent of peppermint. After removing her gloves, she plucked one out and couldn’t help but offer it to Thomas.
