Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Matthew didn’t sleep very well that night. His thoughts and dreams were filled with too many thoughts of Winnie. Her gray eyes, those wellies on her feet, the way her hair hung around her face loosely as they’d walked around the wall…the kisses they’d almost shared.
He’d become so restless throughout the night that when the sunshine finally peeked through his curtains the following morning, he no longer bothered trying to rest, getting ready for the day instead.
Soon, he met with the woman who’d plagued his thoughts all night, and it was little wonder why she had. Once again, she wore those jeans, a classy shirt tucked partially in the front of them, and the wellies from yesterday.
He’d hoped she would wear them again.
“This is in case we have to jump down more walls today,” she said, motioning to her outfit.
Matthew could only smile. He’d been astounded at her bravery yesterday, climbing into that tree, carrying herself beyond the wall, falling into his arms. He knew her fear had been less about actually falling and more about trusting him. Which was why it had meant all the more when she did rely on him .
But dwelling on why he’d wanted her to rely on him in the first place wouldn’t do him any good. It was why he’d pulled away from her last night when they’d nearly kissed.
Twice.
If they gave in to that clear desire the both of them shared, where would it lead, to a relationship? Or to a few non-committal kisses before she left back for New York, never to be seen again?
He wasn’t sure he had the heart to find out.
After a full-English breakfast, and before they traipsed about the city, the two of them gathered their belongings and secured them in the car.
“Keep them safe, Minnie,” Winnie said, patting the rusted bonnet.
Matthew grinned. “Nice to see you’re embracing her.”
“It took me a minute, but I’m beginning to see her appeal.”
After saying goodbye to the car, the two of them made their way back into the city, along with the throngs of early morning shoppers holding their cups of Costa coffees and bags of Gregg’s pastries.
Matthew had filled the day full for them, starting out at York Minster, where they both admired the beauty of the white, vaulted ceilings, the intricate details of the medieval stained-glass windows, and the stunning, Gothic exterior of the structure.
He’d wondered if her excitement that morning would continue throughout the day, so he was immensely pleased when it did as they visited Guy Fawkes’s birthplace, countless shops, seventeenth century inns, and eventually the Shambles and Little Shambles, where she’d actually laughed with delight at the sight.
“I honestly had no idea a place like this even existed,” she said, shaking her head in amazement as they walked down the narrow street, timber-framed structures jutting forth on each side, only a few feet apart from touching one another in the center.
Signs hung out across the street, alerting potential customers of sweet shops, fudge pantries, and tea rooms. They walked past a shop filled entirely with Harry Potter merchandise, and her brow raised.
“Your favorite shop?” she guessed.
“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.
“I hope you don’t mind my suggestion,” she said hesitantly. “I just figured, if it’s something else you have a passion for still, why not pursue it?”
She winced, and Matthew pulled out from his thoughts. She must think he was upset with her for her suggestion. “No, I don’t mind your thoughts at all,” he quickly corrected. “I actually really appreciate them. And truth be told, I’ve considered doing the online thing, especially during the winters when we don’t hold the festival. I usually spend those months working around Foxwood, but now that Dad is more self-sufficient and I have more time, teaching would work even better. I just…” He shrugged. “I don’t know if I could actually pull it off. Or if my dad would approve of another foolhardy idea from his son that he’d later have to bail him out of.”
Winnie peered up at him, her eyes taking on a serious note. “You really think he wouldn’t support you?”
Matthew didn’t have to think for a minute. “No. He would. He always has. I guess I just don’t want to disappoint him again like I did with the festival.”
“I highly doubt you could ever be a disappointment to your dad.”
He gave her a knowing look. “Hiring a consultant to replace me sort of proves you wrong, Miss Knox. ”
She smiled. “No, but really. He loves you so much. He clearly just wants to help.” She looked away, her features sobering. “Even if you were a disappointment to him, I hope you wouldn’t ever let it stop you from doing what you really wanted to do. Like I did.”
Matthew stared. Was she referring to the careers that hadn’t worked out or something else entirely?
He wanted to ask, but she turned to face the darkened display room more directly.
“Anyway,” she said. “If you ever need any help getting anything like that started up, I know of a consultant who considers herself slightly well-versed in helping businesses, whether they’re brand new or highly seasoned.”
He peered down at her with a smile. “It’s good to hear you talking about yourself in a positive light again.”
She shrugged. “I figured it was about time Winnie-Freakin’-Knox made another appearance.”
A chuckle pulled from his chest.
“Seriously though,” she continued. “I’d be more than happy to lend some advice. No pressure, though.”
“Well, I appreciate it,” Matthew said sincerely. “I’ll be sure to take you up on the offer.”
They walked to the next exhibit, but he still stared after her, just as he did while they made their way through the museum. Her whole demeanor, her whole person had altered so greatly, he could hardly comprehend it. Then again, had he not changed, too? He wasn’t being a total cretin now, criticizing her and finding fault with her at every turn. Instead, he was doing exactly as Dad had taught his entire life—something Matthew should have done from the beginning.
Giving Winnie a chance.
He was only glad he could do so before she left England for good because now, her opinion mattered to him.
It mattered to him more than he cared to admit.