Page 21 of A Rogue to Cherish

“Perhaps we should eat, and I will tell you all about it.” Wren hurried to ladle the soup into a pair of bowls and carried them to the table. Then she lifted the pan from the stove and placed it on a cloth in the center of the table between them.

“There wasn’t any word at the house regarding Mr. Murray skulking about bereft of clothing,” her aunt informed her. “It is unbelievable that he made it down the stairs and into the sitting room without being spotted.”

“It was quite early. The chambermaids were not making up the rooms yet,” Wren stated. “Most of the staff were probably receiving their instructions for the day.”

“True.” Her aunt slid the bowl of soup closer. “My mouth is watering.”

Wren grinned. “I haven’t eaten since this morning. I too am quite hungry.”

“Why are you avoiding my question about the garden?” her aunt said between spoonfuls. “Surely you did not take the vegetables.”

It was shocking her aunt would think her a thief. Then again, she had been quite mischievous as a child.

“I did not steal them. I asked for them and people gave them to me. Vendors… at the market. I was just there for a bit.”

“Oh, Wren, what if someone saw you?” Her aunt blew out an annoyed breath. “Did you approach vendors that Berta buys from? They could mention you were there.”

“I do not think so.” Wren’s stomach tightened, and the soup lost some of its appeal. And yet she was much too hungry to lose her appetite completely. “I did run into someone, however.”

Eyes closed, her aunt blew air out of her nose. “Who did you happen upon this time?”

“Mr. Murray,” Wren said and hurried to add, “Funny thing, he was walking by and stopped to apologize again for what happened and…”

“And hopefully that was it. He went on his way,” her aunt interrupted.

“Well.” Her stomach sank.

“Wren?” Her aunt’s eyes rounded, just like the day before. “What did you do?”

“I couldn’t be rude when he offered to buy me a book. I surely did not expect him to purchase pencils and other things for me. I tried to stop him, but he said it was the least he could do.” She cleared her throat. “He is quite nice, do you not agree?”

This time her aunt placed both elbows on the table, palms up, dropped her face into her hands, and closed her eyes. “Dear Father in Heaven.”

Unsure if there was anything else she could do, Wren spooned soup into her mouth. It was delicious; she’d have to remember to plant dill and basil for future dishes.

“Wren!” her aunt exclaimed and Wren dropped her spoon. “What time were you there? Because Berta went to the market today. I pray she didn’t happen upon you and Mr. Murray.”

“It was early, not long after you left.” Wren eyed the remnants in her bowl. “I looked around and didn’t see anyone familiar.”

There was a long silence as her aunt continued to eat, deep in thought. Wren reached for the ladle, but her aunt snatched it before she could get it.

“I should have not gone. But I didn’t wish to waste a perfect day to get the garden started. I assure you, Aunt Mairid, I do not think anything will come of this. I promise to be more careful in the future.”

When her aunt visibly relaxed, Wren let out a breath. She would definitely do her best to avoid the handsome Mr. Murray from then on.

*

It was lateat night when a knock at the front door startled them. Wren opened it to find a distraught Laurel. “My aunt. She is quite ill. I need help.”

Aunt Mairid hurried to dress. “Go fetch the doctor, Wren. He lives across from the bakery that we always go to. Insist he comes at once. He has a carriage and can bring you with him to Martha’s house. Be with care, it is late, and that area can be dangerous at night.”

Laurel wrung her hands, seeming to be on the brink of tears. “I didn’t think about going to the doctor. All I could think was to come and get help, Mrs. Mairid. Thank you so much, Wren. I best hurry back to my aunt.” She raced away into the darkness.

Going in the opposite direction of where Laurel and Aunt Mairid had gone, Wren walked briskly, keeping close to the buildings. The city was quite scary at night, Wren considered as she hurried down a narrow cobblestone street. When footsteps sounded behind her, she quickened her pace.

“Oy!” A male voice called; it was followed by laughter. “Where are you goin’ in such a hurry, lass?”

Wren broke into a run, praying whoever it was didn’t follow.