Page 70 of A Problem Princess

Her eyes softened on him. “Those are my favorites.”

“I know.”

He knew more about her than he wanted to admit, and little of it had to do with protecting her. He’d simply wanted to learn more about her—why she chewed her thumbnail when she was nervous, what she did to make her chestnut hair so shiny, how she made everyone around her feel comfortable in her presence—so he’d paid attention to her the way he never had to any other woman. He couldn’t help himself. With the way she looked at him, with an obvious appreciation that warmed his chest, he certainly didn’t regret it.

“Go on,” he urged quietly. “Buy us some food.”

Cordelia practically bounced as she hurried up to the stall with its piles of wrapped foods. She took her time to make up her mind about what she wanted and gestured for the woman attending the stall to put all of it into a large basket for her.

But when she went to pay, a troubled expression darkened her face.

The woman behind the stall gestured in frustration at the food and the coins. Finally, Cordelia jabbed out her hand toward the woman, the coins resting on her outstretched palm.

Then the woman said something that made Cordelia’s shoulders slump and her hands fall to her sides.

Oh no.Clayton started forward, only to halt in midstep when Cordelia raised her chin in that imperial way of hers, forcefully slapped the coins onto the wooden plank counter, snatched up the basket of food, and triumphantly marched away from the stall.

He frowned warily as she returned to him. “What happened?”

“That woman insulted me,” she explained, her voice a mixture of anger and bewilderment. “She said I must be daft not to know what coins to use to pay her, how much food costs, or that the basket isn’t free. She called me a fool for not bringing my own shopping basket to the market.”

Even now the vendor glared at Cordelia and gestured angrily in her direction as she complained to the woman in the stall next to hers.

“She insulted me.” Cordelia beamed. “Oh, it was wonderful!”

She handed him the basket as if presenting a trophy.

“No one would ever have dared to say something like that to me before!” Her face glowed. “She thought I was just a normal person visiting the village—well, adaftperson visiting the village. But she didn’t treat me at all like a princess, and that’s what matters.”

“If that made you happy, then I know what will really make your day.” He lowered his mouth to her ear and teased, “Let’s go back and barter for a goat.”

With a lilting laugh, she stretched up onto tiptoes and placed a kiss to his cheek before he could duck away.

Part of him was glad he’d been too slow.

“I’ve never bought anything before,” she confided as she wrapped her arm around his and allowed him to lead her slowly back through the market toward the high street. Her ankle was almost completely healed and no longer bothered her, but he didn’t want to reinjure it by walking too much. “I’ve never had to. Anything I’ve ever wanted or needed was provided by the servants and palace staff or by Devereaux. I’ve never even been to a market before.”

Then a thought struck her, and the joy that had been on her face faded, along with the bounce in her step. She stopped.

“You must think me a complete goose,” she said quietly. “A woman who doesn’t even know how to buy anything, who vaguely knows how money works.” She glanced back. “Perhaps that woman in the stall was right and I am just a daft fool.”

Oh, she was so very wrong about herself. “Ithink,” he chose his words carefully, “you have the brilliance to run this entire market in only a few weeks if you truly did live here, and the woman who insulted you would soon be forced to come to you for lessons on how to conduct business.”

His words weren’t mere flattery meant to put a smile back on her face, although he was glad they did. He truly meant it. Cordelia was far more competent than she gave herself credit for. But that was what came from being treated as nothing more than a pretty doll, he supposed, to be dressed up and paraded out when the palace needed her but locked in a closet when they didn’t.

That was just another example of how far apart their two worlds truly were.

He glanced up at the front of the coaching inn, then set down the basket on the footpath next to her half boots. “Wait here.” He leveled a warning look at her. “I mean it. Donotwander off.”

The impertinent woman had the nerve to look offended.

With a chuckle beneath his breath, he hurried into the inn and retrieved the message waiting for him. Justice Rivers had replied quickly. Clayton couldn’t decide if that portended good news or bad, but he did know they would have to relocate in the morning to another village. Somewhere they couldn’t be traced.

For now, though, they were safe here, and he didn’t want to ruin the day by letting the outside world invade. Not just yet. So instead of opening the letter, he tucked it into his brown workman’s jacket.

Cordelia was waiting right where he’d left her, thankfully, but she’d been craning her neck to see every inch of the high street and its busy market day activity.

“It’s a beautiful spring day,” he commented. “Let’s have a picnic by the sea.”