Page 85 of Ironvine

Shifting his weight, he cleared his throat and dragged himself back to reality.Stationers. Pencils. Paper.“Yes?”

She touched his arm. “Charles, could we go to the Apothecary?”

“Are you unwell?” His back straightened.

“I am quite well. I would like to purchase ground pigments there. Our village has yet to have a colour shop.”

“Of course.”

They walked down the high street to the corner. In the window of the bookseller they spied a great many copies of the latest literary sensation.

“Ah, in London I heard talk of this novel, “The Monk.” It has caused much outrage and sensation of late,” said Georgina.

“The hero is a man of God?”

“The hero is a depraved monk.’Tis a tale of lust, filth, violence, and supernatural horrors.”

His lips twisted in a smirk. “Ah, a modern romance?”

“Indeed,” Georgina let out a laugh.

“With a monk as your husband’s ancestor, it seems you have married fashionably, dear Georgina.”

“I have indeed. So gratifying.”

“Shall we purchase a copy and entertain ourselves with it?”

She bit her lip. “Yes, why not?”

They entered the booksellers, and Charles purchased a copy.

Next door was the apothecary, where the chemist knew Georgina. Other ladies came there to purchase remedies for their and their families’ well being, Georgina would come here to purchase what ground pigments he had available. She placed her order, and the man packaged each one up for her.

“In London, I had managed to go one morning to Rowney’s, the famed colour shop,” she said to Charles as they waited.

“And missed a stroll in St. James?”

“I did. I had to lie to do it, but I did it.”

“Shocking behaviour, madame.”

She laughed. “What a delight it was. His specially formulated watercolour cakes are a marvel. I purchased a new watercolour box, chose the colours I wanted, several new brushes, some charcoals and pastels. But I’m sure my mother destroyed them all after I absconded with you.”

“You must write to Rowney’s today and order everything and more,” said Charles.

“Even oils? Oil painting is considered a man’s domain, lacking in female delicacy as the oils and solvents are so odorous and messy.”

“You shall be able to enjoy that mess in your own atelier in the conservatory, won’t you?”

“I simply wanted to make sure that it was agreeable to you.”

“There’s that odorous word again.”

She laughed, and he squeezed her arm tighter. He loved making her laugh. “Enjoy your messes, Georgina.”

She beamed at him. “Thank you, Charles.”

The apothecary gave Georgina her package, Charles paid, and they left the shop. “I am eager to go home. There is something I’d like to show you that I know you will enjoy.”

---