Page 30 of An Earl's Scandalous Return
“Yes, of course. Very wise.”
While Edward enjoyed the food at the inns, overall, it was all very heavy, and he wanted something lighter to fill his afternoons when the evening meals would be quite dense. He knew that Arabella also had a fondness for fruits, and he enjoyed watching her smile as she ate pears and apples and the occasional orange. He lifted a brow.
“Perhaps I will accompany you. I should like to see what Maidstone has to offer regarding its market wares.”
Sampson nodded. “Very good, sir. Shall we take the carriage?”
“Yes. Then at least we have a way to carry everything back. Let me leave a message with the innkeeper so that Mrs Sheffield will not awake wondering where I am.”
“Very good, sir,” Sampson said, but Edward could tell he wanted to say more, no doubt curious as to why he’d stayed in the carriage when he’d stayed in the room the other nights. Sampson knew they were not wed, but he knew just how important it was to keep up appearances to protect Arabella’s reputation. “I will be just outside when you are ready.”
“Thank you.” Edward handed Sampson the bottle of wine to do with as he wished, and then he went to the innkeeper to ask him to give the message to a maid to deliver to his wife upon her waking.
Once outside, he quickly brushed a hand through his hair again to smooth it and tucked in his shirt again. He was sure he looked frightful but knew it didn’t matter since he was simply going to a small market in a tiny village. He hurried into the carriage, and then they set off. He was glad he’d left a message but felt a bit guilty for not telling Arabella where he’d been the whole night.
Could she have been worried about me? Perhaps she waited up in hopes I would return and wish to answer her question. But no, I’d been too much of a coward.
The market was near the inn, and Sampson slowed at the edge. Edward did not wait for him to open the door, and he hurried out, calling up to him with a coin in hand.
“Buy what you like for yourself, Sampson. You deserve it.”
“Thank you, My—sir,” he said with a grin, taking the coin before jumping down from his seat.
With a sigh, Edward turned towards the small collection of stalls. He wasn’t sure if it was his fine clothing or the fact that he looked as though he’d spent the night in his carriage that so many eyes were turned to him as he entered.
But he nodded and smiled, his eyes trailing along the various fruits and vegetables. He knew this was a waste of time, seeing as they had to find the true Gregory, but at least this would give him a bit more time to sort himself before he had to face Arabella again.
The place was busy, and he enjoyed the energy of it. Women and men were calling out from behind their stalls, advertising the freshness of their wares or the rarity. He smiled at a few older women who polished a bit of fruit and held it out to him.
“You won’t find a better apple in London, my good sir,” the one said to him, showing a pair of dark teeth.
“You’re quite right,” he replied, paying her and taking the apples in hand.
Sampson arrived at his side with a basket, and he put them inside. “Thank you.”
He wandered on, thinking about what Arabella might like when he looked up and saw a young girl leaning over a stall of berries. There was something about the colour of her hair that looked familiar. She then turned around, and he froze.
The woman was the exact image of Arabella.
Chapter 33
Edward was amazed at the similarities, and as the girl began to move, speaking to some of the fruit sellers, he could see even more just how similar they were in their movements. She wore rough woollen clothing with a pale apron around her waist, but she had the same elegance and refinement as Arabella.
She had the same pale skin and ruby lips. But the shape of her nose was a little different, and even from that distance, he could see her eyes were not the same, and she was a little younger.
How incredible.
He wanted to show Arabella, to see if she saw the resemblance when something else struck him. They had been searching for Gregory all this time, for the man who had sent the letter, but they had never thought to search for the child of the housekeeper who had lived.
Dear God, this could be her!
He knew he was likely mad, perhaps his mind a little overwrought from lack of sleep, but they were in Maidstone. The letter had been sent from someone who lived in the area, which meant they were at least connected to the child born out of wedlock.
How else could they have known those details? He stepped forward, then paused, shaking his head at himself. Could it be true? Could this be the one whose parent was the former Earl of Montrose?
There is only one way to find out, and I will not find any answers standing here gawking at the poor woman. She might not know anything herself, but I have to try.
With a quick breath and a pull of his waistcoat to smooth it, Edward walked over to her side and cleared his throat before he began.
