Page 48 of A Scot on Duchess Square
“Solway, he thought I was carrying your child!”
He cast her the gentlest smile. “It’s a nice thought. I am no’ going to pretend it does no’ warm my heart.”
“You are missing the point…and now you will laugh at me and think me ridiculously vain when I tell you.”
“Och, dinna make me guess. I will no’ think ye vain, Miranda. Ye have the loveliest heart and that’s a fact. Just tell me straight out what is troubling ye.”
“All right,” she said, hesitating a moment because this was going to be painfully silly to describe. “When a woman is with child her body naturally…um, spreads out and fills out. That shopkeeper took one look at me and thought… Well,amI that filled out?”
Solway stared at her a long moment, clearly not understanding.
Then it must have dawned on him, because his gaze fixed on her bosom.
He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s what has ye put out? If ye’re asking my opinion, then here’s my answer. Ye are the most beautiful woman I have ever beheld, and it is no’ only that ye have a pretty face or a body that leaves me aching every time I look at ye. Ye are round in all the right places and I would no’ change a thing about ye. Ye’re delightfully soft to the touch. No man wants to put his hands on a woman and feel jutting bones.”
He paused in his stride and cast her a tender look. “Ye are beautiful on the inside, too. Yer inner beauty is what makes ye glow, makes yer smile dazzle, and makes ye grow lovelier in my eyes with each passing day.”
She let out a breath. For a blunt man, he certainly had a lovely way with his words. “Thank you, Solway.”
“Will ye call me Bram? I’d much rather hear ye call me that.”
She nodded. “All right, but not in public or even around Gwenys. She already has ideas about matching us.”
“So do I. Is it no’ obvious? It is my heart’s desire to court ye. I only wish I were better at it, but I hope my intentions are clear—that I would like our acquaintance to end in marriage.”
She was spared having to respond because they had reached the inn and Gwenys was waiting for them beside the entry door. “The sun has come out and we really ought to do a little touring while the weather holds up. The innkeeper said there is a popular market set up on Wednesdays and Saturdays near the cathedral, so it must be going on today. Shall we take a stroll through it?”
“Are ye up for it, Miranda?” Solway asked.
She nodded. Anything to distract him from pursuing this discussion.
Marriage meant giving herself and everything she owned over to this man. This still scared her too much.
“I’ll take those parcels,” Gwenys said, breaking into her thoughts. “The inn’s porter can help me carry them. Aunt Miranda, do you need anything from our bedchamber?”
“No, dear.” Miranda glanced down at her fashionably practical travel outfit. Her pelisse was of the softest wool in the same shade of dark green as her gown. “I am fine.”
Solway was still studying her, no doubt eager to resume their conversation. She was not, for he would not be pleased with her answer if he attempted to propose to her now.
In truth, she was not pleased either. She was growing to care for him very much. But to trust him enough to marry him?
No, she did not yet have the courage to take this leap and be hurt again.
Besides, they hardly knew each other. How could he be so certain of his feelings when they had met less than a fortnightago? Did he have some scurrilous agenda that he was hiding from her?
Well, she would have her solicitors do a little investigating. She knew from past experience with those underhanded Lawsons that the solicitors had an excellent team of Bow Street men handling such matters for them.
Gwenys scurried back, and they were soon on their way.
Since Gwenys was such a chatty thing, she and Solway did not need to strain at making conversation while they walked to the market square. “Oh, look! Isn’t this exciting, Aunt Miranda? These stalls go on for miles! Where shall we start? They seem to have everything one can need.”
That was an exaggeration, but it was an impressive market with a large variety of wares, and much larger than Miranda had expected even for a city the size of York.
They browsed through stalls offering spices first. Miranda had a cook on her staff, of course. But she also knew quite a bit about the culinary arts and was intrigued by the herbs and spices offered here. The most commonly sold were black peppers, but there were also white and red to be found here, both coarse and finely ground. Next were salts of all varieties, and then were the fragrant herbs and spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, parsley, and ginger. Even saffron and exotic curry powders were available, as well as basil, sage, and mint.
The London markets probably had these herbs and spices, too. But Miranda’s cook was always the one who went to market. It was not proper for a genteel lady to be seen shopping for the ingredients to her meals.
However, this market was a marvel.
