I turned without a word and walked toward the house.
“Good night,” he whispered into the night.
I shook my head, exasperated, and slipped inside. Once I was safely in my room, I pulled my curtain aside and looked out in time to see him turn toward the road and head back to his horse.
Chapter Seven
A COUPLE OF days later was market day again. I had brought only three barrels of fruit so we would have room in the wagon for Papa’s work—simple things like large spoons and bowls, as well as his more intricate work on small chests, cabinetry, and even a few dolls dressed in little clothes that my mother had sewn.
As we set up our table and our wares, Suzannah and I greeted those we knew as they passed by. My stomach filled with nervous anxiety when I saw Zander making his way toward us in the early morning light, leading a horse that was walking oddly.
Our eyes met, and Zander ducked his head with a smile. He was going to come say hello, and I didn’t know what I would say in return. If we continued exchanging nothing but inane pleasantries, we’d never get anywhere. Perhaps it was time to take Rylan’s suggestion, as silly as it seemed.
I looked around our stand. We hadn’t raised the awning yet. Perfect. We usually accomplished it by standing on the stools, but he didn’t have to know that.
Zander stopped in front of our stand. “Morning, Miss Kinley. Miss Suzannah.”
“Morning,” we replied in unison.
“And who is this lady?” I asked, nodding toward the mare.
He patted the mare’s cheek. “This is Lucky. She belongs to Jens Fortner. She’s thrown a shoe, so we’re going to get her taken care of.”
“I’m certain she’s in good hands,” I said, and congratulated myself on the compliment.
“I’ll do my best to take care of her,” he said, then seemed to realize he was out of conversation. “Well, good day, ladies.”
“Before you go,” I said, already feeling like a fool. “Would you mind helping us with our awning? We’re not quite tall enough.” Could he see the heat of humiliation crawling up my neck? Because I could certainly feel it.
He looked a bit taken aback, but said, “Of course.”
It took him only a minute to secure the awning to the posts that were driven into the ground.
As he tied the final knot, he asked, “Don’t you two usually do this on your own? I could have sworn I’d seen you securing it several times before.”
“Oh.” Drat! How could I explain myself without sounding the fool? “Well, yes, we can if we have to, but I just thought that . . . with you here . . . ” I swallowed and looked away. “I didn’t mean to waste your time.”
He stepped up to me, placing his hand on my arm, or really just his fingertips. It was barely a touch. “I’m always happy to help,” he assured me, and I just nodded. “Please call on me anytime.”
I dared to peek up at him, wondering what it was about him that made me shrink. It must have been his corded muscles combined with the piercing blue of his eyes that had me so befuddled. His face was kind, though a bit unsure. “Thank you” was all I managed to say before he took the mare and walked away.
When he was lost in the crowd, I groaned.
“Well,” Suzannah said from the other side of the stall, where she stood studying me with her arms crossed. “That was . . . interesting.”
“It was idiotic.”
“Why did you pretend to need help with the awning?”
I went back to stacking the table with goods. “I took the wrong advice.” I silently cursed Rylan, and then I cursed myself for listening to him. Was I truly that desperate? Apparently so.
After a moment, Suzannah pulled my hands from the wares and made me face her. “Tell me” was all she said.
So I did. I told her about my humiliating conversation with Rylan about Zander and how I had foolishly listened to him. She laughed, and I glared at her, and we moved on with our day.
Despite my pitiful start, Suzannah and I had a good morning. I even sold one of Papa’s boxes that I was sad to see go. The design was beautiful, and I had hoped that perhaps it might end up in my own room if no one bought it in the next month or so.
Rylan’s appearance in the crowd was no surprise, since he’d mentioned needing a new candle. He was without the silly hat this time, and his clothing was all dark, no doubt in an attempt to blend in. It looked like he had tried to mess up his hair, but it made him look like a rogue instead of looking unkempt.
He caught my eye and winked. I had been staring. I started rearranging the items on the table to distract myself from the flutter in my chest. His roguish look was . . . intriguing. I shook off the feeling, reminding myself that he was a noble. A friend and nothing more. As soon as his shadow fell across the table, I couldn’t help saying, “If you think you’re blending in, you are mistaken,” in a singsong voice without looking up at him.
“Can’t you just let me hold on to my delusions?”
I glanced up in time to see his fake scowl. “I’m sorry. Shall I pretend your disguise has fooled me?”
“My disguise is not for you. Good morning, Miss Suzannah,” he said with a smile.
“Good morrow, Mr. Baylor. How can we help you?”
“I’d like two of these lovely candles, and if you could spare a bit of shade . . . ” He gave her a pleading look.
She laughed and nodded toward a third stool. “Looks like Kinley knew you’d be stopping by.”
He grinned at me and I blushed. Not that I should have. After all, he’d been the one to suggest he was coming by, but still, having the evidence of my thinking of him put on display by my best friend was uncomfortable.
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Miss Kinley.” He took his time selecting two candles and handing Suzannah his money before circling the table and sitting down.
I glared at him. He noticed and made a show of looking behind him to see if I were glaring at someone else. “What have I done to deserve that look?”
“I took your advice.”
A triumphant amusement lit his face for just a moment before he schooled his features. “Is that so? And was it successful?”
My glare progressed to a withering stare.
He lifted his hands in surrender. “It cannot have been that bad.”
“I sounded just as ridiculous as I knew I would.”
“If you knew it would go badly, why do it?”
“Because I never know what to say around him,” I lamented.
He didn’t have an immediate answer, but I could tell he was biting the inside of his bottom lip, no doubt coming up with some other glorious piece of advice.
“Well?” I demanded after he had been quiet long enough to get on my nerves.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing,” I spat, and turned my back on him. It was inexcusably rude of me. I was throwing the tantrum of a three-year-old. What did I want him to say?
I heard him sigh deeply. “This probably isn’t what you want to hear, but if you were meant to be with him, then simple conversation wouldn’t be so hard.”
I turned and pinned him with a stare, trying to keep the hurt from showing on my face. “So you think I should just give up altogether?”
He seemed to weigh his words before he spoke. “I think you can find someone better suited to you.”
I turned my back to him again. Clearly it had been a mistake to ask him for advice. One I would not make again.
I allowed myself to sink into the rhythm of interacting with customers for the next ten minutes. But when the third customer in a row looked with confusion into the back of our stall, I allowed myself to turn back and study Rylan. Then I turned to Suzannah. “Do you suppose anyone wonders why we have a vagrant nobleman in our stall?”
She grinned. “Even if they do, I’m certain they’ll be too polite to ask.”
“I’m not a vagrant,” he spoke up in his own defense. “And how would people recognize me as a noble when I
look like any other fellow?”
I gave a long-suffering sigh before stepping over to him and untying his cape. “No one wears capes or cloaks unless the weather calls for it.” I threw it back off his shoulders, then started unbuttoning his vest. “And very few common men own a vest, much less keep it buttoned up nice and tidy. It’s warm out. More than one layer is redundant. Didn’t the stable lads teach you anything?”
“You’re undressing me?”
I smacked his chest and he flinched. “I’m adjusting your dress.” I stood up and inspected him. “Now slouch over or lean your elbows on your knees or something. Stop looking as if you are about to sit down to tea.”
He looked at me, amused, and kept his eyes on me as he bent forward to prop his forearms on his knees. “Will this do?”
His smile was a bit too mischievous and made me swallow. “Yes, that will do.” I spun away and focused once again on my work, my wares, the things that made me the money that I needed, instead of on the rapscallion behind me. The rapscallion who on occasion made me think very romantic thoughts, which was foolish. Pining after a noble would be half-witted and fickle.
He kept to himself for quite a while, until there was a lull in customers stopping by. I sank onto my stool and stretched my back, which was weary from leaning over the table all day.
“You look like my horse when he needs a rubdown,” he commented.
Suzannah sputtered a laugh before burying her face in her sleeve. I put my hand over my eyes. “Rylan, do you have any idea how that sounds?”
He cleared his throat. “Right. Sorry. Pay no attention to the vagrant nobleman with no social graces.”
It took Suzannah a moment to recover from her fit of giggles. “How do you ever survive at those fancy parties?” she asked before dissolving into laughter once more.
“You’d be surprised at how little actual talking there is at those fancy parties.”
Suzannah fanned at her red face as she tried to stop her laughter. “Might I give you some advice, Mr. Baylor?”
“I’m certain I need it,” he muttered, and I noticed his ears were red.
“Never compare a woman to a horse.” She nearly started laughing again but managed to keep it under control.
“I’ll be sure to remember that.”
I tried to go back to selling things, but it wasn’t long before Rylan stood. “I think I’ve haunted your stall for long enough.” He wouldn’t quite meet my eyes as he draped his cape over one forearm. “Miss Kinley, Miss Suzannah.”
“Good day, Mr. Baylor,” I murmured as he slipped from the stall.
Suzannah snorted, and I threw a pear at her. “Oh, Kinley. I hope he keeps coming around. I haven’t had such a laugh in months.”
It wasn’t until some hours later that I found the carved wax ladybug sitting on the stool he had vacated.
✼ ✼ ✼
The sun had started its descent, and it was time to pack up. I surveyed the table before us, proud to see how much less we had to take home. It had been a good day of selling, despite having both Zander and Rylan as distractions.
Suzannah packed up quickly and had to be on her way. Her mother relied on her to help with dinner and her younger siblings in the evening. I would finish loading my wares and wait for Fynn to come with the wagon, which would have to wait until most of the crowd cleared out.
I loaded the barrels with my remaining merchandise and allowed my mind to think further on what Rylan had said about how conversation should be easy. I hated that I was even considering the possibility of him being right, but the same thought had been tripping around my own head for some time. Being around Zander felt like work, like I was trying to force myself into a space that wouldn’t hold me, and I was growing weary of it.
When all my goods were packed, I pulled a stool over and climbed up to untie the awning. The first knot came loose just fine, but the second was much tighter than usual, likely because Zander had been the one to tie it. It was difficult for me to get any leverage from my perch on the stool, since the knot was still above my head. I rested my hands on my hips and sighed in frustration. This is going to take a while.
As I was reaching up to try again, I felt a hand on my waist and flinched, causing my stool to wobble.
“Careful there, Miss Kinley.”
I grabbed the post, then jerked my head around to see that it was Zander helping me keep my balance.
“I wouldn’t want to see you topple over.” He gave a little grin, and I couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on my own face.
“Why don’t you let me get that?” he asked.
I nodded. “Good idea.”
His palm brushed my hip as he removed it from my waist. Then he offered me a hand down, which I accepted with barely suppressed glee.
“Thank you,” I breathed, releasing his hand with reluctance.
He ducked his head and went to untie the knot, which took him no time at all. “Was it a successful day for you?” he asked as he moved to the other post.
“It was, thank you.” I tried not to stare as his muscled arms worked and instead think of something intelligent to say. “Did you get that mare taken care of?”
He nodded. “And returned to her owner. She was a bit more spirited than I expected.”
“How so?”
“She kept nudging my shoulder with her muzzle while I was trying to reshoe her.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jens just laughed when I told him. Said it’s a game she plays with his son when he grooms her.”
I chuckled. “So then, what brings you through the market this late in the day?”
“Well.” He scratched behind his ear and moved to the next corner. “I thought you might need a hand with the awning.”
“Oh.” Right. The helpless lie I had told. “Yes,” I said, glad that he was facing away from me. “It seems you were right.”
“Although,” he said as he loosed the last corner and let the canvas fall. “I did enjoy watching you try.”
His eyes remained on the canvas, so he was not privy to my stunned expression. Was he flirting with me? He glanced up for just a moment before looking down again, embarrassment blanketing his features. He was flirting with me! And he was doing it quite well.
I held my tongue, too giddy to respond at that moment. Instead I helped him fold up the awning, which eventually brought us together as I handed my side over to him, our fingers skimming. Neither of us backed away for several seconds, until Zander seemed to shake himself. “I need to get back to the smithy.”
I just nodded, biting my lip.
He held up the canvas. “Where would you like this?”
I took a deep breath, trying to get my head and my heart and my breathing all back to the right rhythm. “On top of that barrel.” I pointed. “Fynn will be along in a bit to load it up.”
He set the canvas down and once again touched his hat as he backed away. “A very good day to you, Miss Kinley.”
“And you, Zander.”
He gave me a smile and turned to join the crowd of commoners making their way out of the market.
I sank onto the stool and watched him go. That had been the most that Zander and I had spoken—ever. Not only that, but our conversation hadn’t been stilted and awkward. Yes, it had been a bit embarrassing at moments, but it hadn’t left me feeling like a half-wit.
Once he was out of sight, I took in my surroundings and realized how utterly distracted I must have been when I noticed Rylan standing just outside my stall.
I shot to my feet. “Rylan. What are you doing here?”
He smiled, but it was perfunctory and didn’t reach the rest of his face. “Watching the spectacle.”
My spine stiffened. “It was hardly a spectacle.” Then since I was too curious not to ask: “How long have you been there?”
“Quite some time. Neither of you seemed to notice.”
How mortifying.
“Your methods seem to have improved,” he said with a grimace.
; Was he making fun of me? “I wasn’t using methods. I was speaking to him.”
“Ah,” he said, then brushed past me to further organize the barrels and crates, even though they didn’t need it.
I huffed. “I hate when you say that.”
“Say what?” He crouched down to dig through a crate, though what he was looking for, I couldn’t guess.
“When you say ‘ah’ and nothing else. It makes it sound as though you suddenly know everything, and the rest of us mere mortals will keep having to guess.” He didn’t respond, just kept riffling. “And what are you looking for among my property?”
He stood and reached into a barrel, finally pulling out an apple and biting into it. He turned and held it up for me to see. “I was hungry,” he said around a mouthful.
I glared at him. What was he doing? This wasn’t the Rylan I knew. He had never been blatantly rude before. Teasing, yes, but never downright rude. “Do you plan to pay for that?”
He pulled out a coin and flipped it to me. I caught it by reflex. “I had one earlier as well. That’s one of the reasons I came down here, so I could be sure I paid for what I’d taken.”
I pocketed the coin without looking at it. I was too busy studying the man across from me. He took another bite of apple and stared back. The more I studied him, the more I felt my face fall. He was being standoffish and cold. And I didn’t like it.
“Please tell me why you’re really here.” The smallness of my voice didn’t escape my notice or his.
His cold exterior cracked and he swallowed. “I told you why.”
“Then tell me what I’ve done to deserve this behavior.”
He let out a breath and looked at the ground, the apple bouncing in his hand like he was testing its weight. He finally looked up, and I was relieved to see some of the warmth had returned to his eyes. “I’m sorry, Kinley. You didn’t deserve that.”
I held my peace, waiting for an explanation.
“I was just surprised.”
“By what?” I asked in exasperation.
“I truly believe you shouldn’t have to work so hard just for a simple conversation.”
“Then how is a person supposed to become acquainted with anyone else?”
Keeping Kinley Page 8