customer hummed in approval as he ran a hand over the leather of the expensive diary. âExquisite. I will take both journals, this paper hereââ he slid forward equal portions of the good paper and the lesser variety ââhalf a dozen quills, the knife, and this vial of ink.â
Rob gave the man a smile. Obviously this was a fellow of sound mind and admirable intellect. âWould you like me to put it on your fatherâs account, Mr. Lane?â
âNo, no.â Lane pulled out his purse. âI am unsure how long I will be in the city, and I despise the thought of leaving debts in my wake for my family to cover.â
Yes, a most likeable gentleman indeed. Rob tallied up his purchases and read him the total. âIs there anything else I can get for you today?â
Lane leaned close, conspiracy in his eyes and a smile playing at his lips. âWell, what I have a true hankering for is apples. Have you any of those in stock, Mr. Townsend?â
Laughing, Rob shook his head. âI fear that for those particular luxuries you will have to try the London Trade.â
Laneâs face went blank. âPardon?â
Rob motioned him closer, though any New Yorker knew this âsecretâ as well as he. âI am surprised no one has told you of this already. When you are in want of produce, you must go to those shops specializing in goods smuggled from rebel-held territory, where all the farms lay. There you will find your beef and poultry, your potatoes and apples. Those merchants will, in turn, take some of our silks and jellies andpastries to Long Island. This is known as the âLondon Trade.â Strictly illegal, of course, but no one on either side much cares as they like their fruits and silks as much as any citizen.â
With a glint of amused self-deprecation in his eyes, Lane straightened. âSo that is where George has been getting his goods all this time. He always made me believe he was extraordinarily well connected and never once mentioned I could find such things without his help. If you could kindly point me in the proper direction, my friend?â
Rob accepted the coins for the purchase and wrapped up the more fragile items in a box of card paper. âGladly. So long, of course, as you come here for your legally purchased goods.â He handed over the box with a grin and held out a hand for the stack of paper Lane had picked up. âI shall tie that up with some twine for you, if you will.â
The bell over the door jingled again, and they both turned that direction, Lane still clutching the stack of paper. In rustled a flock of gaily clad women, the elder ones leading the way as their daughters brought up the rear. And away flew the quiet of the shop into the brisk air out of doors.
Were these particular ladies not given to tossing their money about with abandon, Rob may well have groaned. He was glad he hadnât, though, when he spotted Winter wedged between Theodosia Parks and Elizabeth Shirley. She giggled along with the other girls over whatever so amused them, but her eyes, as always in such company, were blank.
At least Mrs. Hampton was nowhere in sight. Surely the freedom of that would soothe her, even if she darenât show it.
The frippery-laden flock made their way toward the counterâand were greeted by a shower of flying sheets of paper as Mr. Lane dropped his burden and made it worse by lunging for them and so sending them every which direction.
At least he had already paid for them.
Laughter rang out. Rob had to bite back a chuckle of his own, but he did so. Given the shade of red poor Mr. Laneâs neck had turned, he needed an ally in the worst way.
âOh, dear me.â Mrs. Parks stepped backward, though she urged her tittering daughter toward the mess. âSo sorry if we startled you, Mr. Lane.â
âMy fault. I wasâ¦that is Iâ¦my apologies, maâam. Ladies. Clumsy of me.â
Mrs.
Learning to Kill: Stories