Chapter Nine #2
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.
She left the spices and next ambled along stalls that were selling root vegetables such as radishes, cabbage, and cauliflower. Farther down were vendors selling smoked fish.
“It’s a Yorkshire specialty,” Solway said, pointing to an array of smoked salmon, trout, and mackerel. He then had her sample some. “What do ye think, Miranda?”
“Oh, so good.” She smiled as she took another bite and spoke with her mouth full.
Her mouth was still watering as they passed by stalls filled with breads and pasties, for the aroma of warm bread fresh out of the beehive bricks was too tempting to pass up. Solway purchased some bread and hot cross buns for all of them, and Miranda declared they were delicious, too.
They then moved away from the food stalls, for her laces would need loosening if she sampled all the fare, especially the cheeses that were displayed in wide variety and quite popular with the crowd.
After making their way through the food vendors, they reached the stalls selling household wares, bolts of cloth, and pretty trinkets.
She was surprised by the craftsmanship displayed in these stalls and stopped to look at one that had some lovely bracelets, brooches, necklaces, and rings to sell.
These were not fine jewelry but nonetheless quite pretty, despite being made mostly of common beads.
However, there were some more expensive items of finely worked silver.
“I designed these myself,” the young woman standing in the stall said with pride.
“Oh, they are lovely,” Miranda remarked, and turned to Solway. “May we come back for a closer look later?”
“Aye, if ye wish.”
They walked on and strolled past artists drawing portraits of anyone who wished to sit for them. Solway insisted on having her portrait done, no doubt because he feared she was tiring and there was nowhere else to sit.
Next to the artist was a glassblower who had set up a makeshift kiln and was delighting everyone with his delicate glass designs. Troupes of musicians strolled along the walkways singing songs and strumming their instruments.
“Is it this active every market day?” Miranda asked the lady at one of the next stalls they’d stopped at, who was selling particularly beautiful scarves.
“Yes, people come from all around Yorkshire and parts farther afield. It gets even madder in the summer. Can I interest you in something?”
Solway purchased a scarf for her and another for Gwenys, and then they returned to the young woman whose jewelry designs they had admired earlier.
“You’re back,” she said with a bright smile on her face, obviously pleased.
“What would you like to see? A necklace, perhaps? Or a ring?” She looked at Solway as he stood beside Miranda and Gwenys, obviously knowing he was the one to be persuaded.
“Should your wife and daughter not have a beautiful memento of their visit to York? Do you not agree, m’lord? ”
He grinned. “Aye, they should. What do ye suggest?”
Miranda cast him an exasperated glance, for he had already been quite generous with them. “No, we really do not—”
“I would love to see that bracelet,” Gwenys said, interrupting her. “And my aunt would love to look at that brooch. Everyone mistakes her for my mother, for we are as close as any mother and daughter can be.”
Miranda sighed. “Yes, I’ll have a look at that silver rose brooch.”
“You have excellent taste,” the vendor replied. “It is one of my finest.”
Which meant she was going to charge double its true price, because any good merchant could read their customers and quickly calculate who was going to overpay for an item. Miranda would not, but Solway was another matter. The girl could triple her prices and he would pay up.
“We’ll take that brooch,” he said, not helping the situation because he had not even asked the price. “Ye do the same, Gwenys. That’s a pretty bracelet ye’re trying on.”
“Yes, it is. But I cannot decide between it and this silver one with the topaz in the center.”
Solway nodded. “We’ll take both for the lass.”
Miranda tried to silently convey her disapproval with a waggle of her eyebrows, but that only had him chuckling.
He then proceeded to select a necklace for her that was in the shape of a silver heart. “And this one, too.”
The vendor wrapped their purchases up in pretty boxes and smiled broadly at Miranda once Solway had handed over his coins. “You are so fortunate to have such a kind and attentive husband.”
“Yes, she is!” Gwenys exclaimed, giggling.
Solway steered them both away from the booth. “Dinna frown at yer niece, Miranda. It is yer behavior that makes everyone think we are married.”
“Mine?” She let out a huff of indignation because his statement was simply absurd.
He was grinning again. “Perhaps mine, too. The eyes dinna lie, do they? It seems we canno’ stop looking at each other with great affection.”
“Ridiculous,” she said, and moved on.
They browsed a little longer, then Solway declared they ought to stroll back toward the inn. “Ye’ve been out walking long enough, Miranda. We need to turn back before ye’re too sore.”
In truth, she was indeed starting to feel some twinges. “All right.”
They were only a short distance from the inn when she felt a sudden, sharp pang to her ribs that caused her to gasp and almost double over. Fortunately, she had been holding on to Solway’s arm, and this prevented her from stumbling.
“Och, ye need to tell me when ye are in discomfort.” He glanced around. “Let’s stop for a bite at this tea shop. It’ll give ye the chance to rest. What do ye say?”
“An excellent idea,” Gwenys immediately responded, and marched in before Miranda could utter a protest.
She would have preferred to return to the inn, but her ribs were suddenly in revolt and truly aching. The sharp twinges were relentless as they ran up and down her sides, and it was quite possible she would not have made it to their lodgings on her own legs.
She would never admit this to Solway, however, and opened her mouth to protest. “I—”
“Gad, ye’re stubborn.” He continued to regard her with concern. “Gwenys is already inside, and ye look ashen. Are ye going to faint?”
“No! I never faint. I’m no frail daffodil.” But her head was beginning to spin. “All right, I may have overdone it just a little today. The market was so much fun, was it not?”
“Aye, and I surely enjoyed yer company.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and kept her body closely up against his as they followed Gwenys.
The aroma of fresh strawberries and cinnamon apples accosted her senses as she walked into the tea shop. It brought a smile to her lips.
“Yes, an excellent idea,” she declared as they were led to the only available table, since the place was filled with customers.
“We are always bustling on market days,” their server said with joviality. “What may I get you?”
Even though they had been eating and sampling their way from stall to stall in the marketplace, Gwenys was still hungry and chose a shortbread filled with strawberry jam. Solway ordered the same.
“Just chamomile tea for me,” Miranda said.
“Och, that won’t do.” He turned to the serving maid. “An apricot tart for the lady. And make it chamomile tea for all of us.”
The pleasant girl bustled off to fetch their orders.
“How did you know apricot tarts were my favorite?” Miranda asked him.
He chuckled. “I didn’t. But they’re one of my favorites, and I thought I would eat it if ye put up a fuss and insisted ye did no’ want it.”
She held her ribs as she laughed, because they were sore and she still felt jolts of pain with every slight movement.
But she felt much better after sitting for a little while and having her tea, which soothed her insides and warmed her hands and toes.
“Are ye feeling better?” Solway asked when they walked toward the inn a short while later.
She nodded. “Yes, much.”
Although it wasn’t quite true.
An odd feeling came over her as they approached the inn, and she did not understand exactly what this was, for the pleasant half-hour spent at the tea shop had restored her strength and her ribs no longer ached.
But this feeling was something dark and put her on edge—which made no sense, because the sun was shining and the cool air that had been swirling on an April breeze earlier in the day had died down now, making for a delightful afternoon.