Cedric curled his lip. ‘No.’ Then he turned as if to leave.
‘Yes, yes!’ said the boy loudly as he gestured for them to go further into the back storeroom.
‘No—’
‘Lord, Lord, please,’ Miss Richards begged. ‘Come.’
‘Not safe,’ he said in an undertone.
She tugged on his arm. ‘Safe.’
He relented, though every part of him felt on high alert. Anything could happen here. In general, he was casual about personal risks, but he hated taking chances with her. If she got injured, the guilt would eat him alive.
But he had come along to see how she bargained, so he could hardly hamstring her now. He reluctantly walked beside her into a back storeroom filled with bags of spice.
Spice! Everything the boy had declared was impossible laid out before him. Cinnamon, pepper, salt, not to mention other more exotic fare. He frowned as he moved forwards, inhaling deeply as he tried to sort through the scents.
Meanwhile, the boy walked straight to a bag of cinnamon. ‘Silk!’ he said pointing. Then he held up fingers to indicate a price. Ah. So this was a fiction about what he was selling so he could claim that he never sold spices to an English foreigner.
Immediately, Miss Richards stood differently. Her legs straightened and her knees twisted inwards. She began making gestures that dismissed the quality and price. Back and forth they bartered. He could barely follow it except in the shifting position of her knees.
And though the price steadily dropped—as far as he could tell—she didn’t relax her stance. It was all, no, no, no.
What caught him instead was the way she acted. She was supposed to be a boy so her body language was stronger, broader and more aggressive. He’d imagined that he would be repulsed by such a thing. He appreciated her sister’s skill in the sails, but he preferred feminine attributes in a female.
And yet here was Miss Lucy Richards posturing as any pre-teen male might. Her stance was bold, her words rapid and her tone arrogantly dismissive. So impressive! Damn if he didn’t like the extra power in her voice or the way her gestures took on force.
He glanced back at her father who was watching with what appeared to be bored disinterest. But then he caught the man’s eyes and saw a small lift in his cheeks. He was pleased with what he saw. And so was Cedric.
Then things changed.
Miss Richards turned to Cedric, her manner pleading. ‘Good price,’ she wheedled as she held up her hand. ‘Good price.’
He frowned at the barrel of cinnamon then he looked at her. Her knees were decidedly tight together. This was not a sale she wanted, and yet her manner made him double think for a moment.
But only a moment.
‘How much?’ he asked as he lifted his purse.
The adolescent answered, then added in English, ‘Good price.’
‘Nah,’ he drawled as he pocketed the coins again. Then he curled his lip as he looked around. ‘I think we can go elsewhere.’
He started to turn with Miss Richards quickly tugging on his elbow. ‘Please, lord. Please. Good price.’
‘No. Not this trip.’ He looked towards the door. ‘Maybe across the street.’
‘No!’ the boy called. ‘Good price here.’ Then he offered a slightly lower price.
Cedric paused looking down his nose at Lucy. Her feet were slightly spread. So it was a decent price. But then he thought about what she had said. How it was a curse to lose the first sale of the day, and so they’d give difficult buyers to Lucy because she could have a cursed day.
But what if she had a good day?
He pointed to the girl still hiding in shadows. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she shrank back. But he gestured her forwards, and she stood slowly.
‘What deal will she give me?’ he asked.
Abruptly, the boy stood between him and the girl. ‘No! Not for sale!’