“To the bakery, then,” Susannah ordered, pointing out the way as though he were a newcomer to the village. He stifled a grin. Susannah always was at ease ordering people about. “My day went very well, thank you. I have three new customers, all of them gentry. I think it shall turn out well. I am cautiously hopeful.”
“That is excellent news.” His heart surged with pride. Susannah could accomplish anything she set her mind to, that was for certain.
“And how was your day?” she asked, her tone polite and even. She must be adhering to her own inner conscience, reminding her that she had promised to be friendly, after all.
“ʼTwas...” He paused. While she had toiled at her shop, he’d slept, ate a vast repast, bathed and finally, at this late hour, ventured into the village in the hopes of running into her.
Not that he was seeking her out, of course. But he was interested in her little shop and how well she fared.
“’Twas quite...relaxed.” He shrugged. “Not as exciting as yours.”
“I doubt that.” She looked up at him, a smile hovering around her pretty lips. “With such a large estate? I am certain it keeps you busy morn to night.”
She halted before the bakery, the spicy scents of cinnamon and cloves beckoning them in. “I should go. I need to feed everyone and put us to bed in time for church tomorrow morning.”
“Church?” He laughed incredulously. “The closest one is St. Mary’s. In Crich. Don’t you remember? Nearly a four-mile ride.”
“Oh.” She looked crestfallen, as she bowed her head. “Yes, you are right. I haven’t been there since I was fifteen years old. I forgot how far we used to journey on Sundays. Well, I shall have to simply have my own little service in the morning. I’ve much to be thankful for, you see.”
“I see.” He handed her the basket and touched the brim of his hat. “Well, I am glad you had such a good day, Susannah. With so much to be grateful for.” He turned to go.
“Thank you, Daniel.” The warmth of her voice took him off guard. He glanced at her from under the brim of his hat and was rewarded with a smile—the first genuine one she’d bestowed on him since he’d stopped her from breaking her own door down.
He smiled back and struck out across the moor for Goodwin. Paul was gone, so he would be completely and utterly alone. He suddenly hated social conventions with a passion that startled him. How nice it would be to have dinner with Susannah and her two sisters, just as friends, nothing more.
After all, she’d made it quite clear that even friendship was a stretch after the wrong he’d done her.
Chapter Seven
The sun crept over the moors Sunday morning, illuminating their small living quarters with hazy sunlight. Susannah suppressed a shiver as she wrapped a quilt closer about her person. Already the faint chill heralded autumn’s approach. She’d have to earn a good deal of money—enough to purchase firewood, and to buy wool to make gowns for her sisters, and—oh, gracious, it was all too much.
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