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“I find your honesty refreshing.”

“Then you are one of only a few who do! Now, tell me what you are searching for. I have some fresh cinnamon buns that will melt in your mouth, and my lemon tarts are the best in the county, if I say so myself. Or … or you might wish me to make you a sandwich with fresh bread, sausages and cheese.”

“That sounds delicious but, actually, I am here to speak with you about purchasing the bakery. I am Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Miss Bennet!” she cried, hand rising to her heart. “How wonderful to be able to put a face with your name. I got your letters, but to tell the truth, I did not know how to answer them, for I am still indecisive.” Walking around the counter, she crossed to the door and turned an Open sign over so it now read Back In One Hour. Then she pulled down the shade and locked the door.

“It is time I took a break, so if you will follow me to my living quarters, we will discuss the matter in private.”

The woman headed towards a door behind the counter which led to the kitchen and ovens whilst Elizabeth followed. From there, they entered a second door and immediately went up a set of stairs. At the top of the stairs a door led into an apartment that took up the entire floor. Elizabeth was impressed with how lovely it was and said as much.

“Fred, my late husband, and I always planned to own a house outside town, but we were never able to give up the convenience of living above the shop. You must understand, owning a bakery means being up before dawn and working long after dark. People want to purchase fresh-baked pastries or sausages and cheese wrapped in bread to break their fasts.” She looked about the well-appointed apartment with a satisfied expression. “Therefore, when we decided to stay here, we made our little apartment as comfortable as possible with furniture, draperies and carpets as fine as we could afford.”

“No one would ever suspect something this grand lies right above the bakery.”

“Thank you. We tried to keep it private. Only a few close friends ever visited our little abode, and Fred was fine with that. He liked that it was just the two of us most of the time, because we had so little time to ourselves as it was.” She looked about the space as though seeing memories Elizabeth could not. “Now that my love has passed, it is lonelier than I ever imagined. We never had any children, you see.”

Suddenly, she seemed to snap out of her contemplations, saying, “Have you any idea what you would be getting into by purchasing my bakery? From the time the shop is closed, you will be preparing for when it opens again. Customers will long remember if they come all the way to your shop only to find you do not have what they are seeking or, God forbid, happen to be closed for some reason.”

She recalled just such a time. “Once Fred was very sick, and I had to close the doors for several days whilst I cared for him. Some people were so upset to find us closed that they did not return for quite some time. If not for our longtime customers, we might have gone out of business. No. A bakery is not for the faint-hearted or lazy.”

“Lydia, the sister I wrote to you about, works very hard at the bakery that supports the charity where she lives. She, of all people, knows first-hand how hard it would be to run one by herself. Still, she is eager to provide for herself and her child, and I aim to help her as much as possible.”

“I was very touched by your motive for buying the bakery; however, I had hoped to use the deposit to purchase a small home soon to be for sale beside my sister, Eloise. She lives just outside of Lambton, and her husband of forty years passed only months ago. Without the deposit, I would be forced to remain in this apartment, which would mean the new owner would have to find another place to live.”

“Might Lydia and the baby reside in your empty bedroom? I know she would be thrilled to be out of the charity, and once you accumulate enough payments for the bakery, you could still move if you wish to.”

“I shall give it thought, but to be honest, I have received an offer for the bakery outright, without any drawn-out payments; however, their offer was less than I had hoped to earn. Would it be possible to give you an answer by the end of this month? By then I should know if the other prospective buyer is willing to pay the full price or not.”

Disappointed, Elizabeth’s shoulders sagged. “I can understand why you must do what is best for your situation. In truth, I know of no other bakeries for sale presently, so I have no reason not to wait. In the meantime, I plan to keep rooms at the inn for myself and my servant, numbers 11 and 12 to be exact, whilst I travel between Lambton and Sheffield, seeking facts about my brother’s death.”

“I was so sorry to hear about Lord Morgan’s death, and it is disheartening that nothing has been done about it thus far. It makes one afraid to travel the highways nowadays, what with villains killing people in broad daylight.”

Elizabeth’s eyes fell to her feet. Being reminded of her kind-hearted brother’s death always made her melancholy. “If you need to contact me, you may leave a note at the desk at the inn. I should not be away more than a few days at a time.”

“I shall keep that in mind.”

As Elizabeth turned to leave, the old woman stopped her by saying, “Oh, Miss!”

When Elizabeth turned back, she said, “Please know I am praying that the ones who did this horrible deed will be caught.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Potter. We are grateful for your prayers.”

London

The Rooster’s Comb Pub

As the sun broke through the shabby curtains covering the window of his room, Wickham brought his arm up to cover his face. Head aching from having drunk too much brandy the night before, he recalled with great resignation that, thus far, all his manoeuvrings had been for naught.

Drago must have threatened Sully to keep him quiet, for that man had proved no more talkative than his more treacherous friend regarding who might have hired them to do his bidding. Therefore, Wickham was no closer to knowing who held the purse strings he hoped to control than when he began. With a loud groan at the effort, he sat up and swung his legs off the bed. Nothing would get done if he lay in bed all day, and because his coins were disappearing far too fast, he had to think of some way to make money.

For a long time, he sat there trying to work out what his next move should be. Suddenly, the last thing he recalled Sully saying sprang to mind: They had discovered their mark was reportedly on her way to Hertfordshire, where she would hire a private coach to take her to Derbyshire. She was to turn the coach in at a station in Lambton.

Deciding he had best follow his old friends if he wished to discover more about their benefactor, Wickham gathered all he possessed in a bag and prepared to climb out the window, which would allow him to avoid paying the pub owner what he owed.

With a loud sigh, Wickham climbed onto the roof. The Rooster’s Comb would be one more place he could never stay again, unless he wished to pay what he owed in arrears.

Chapter 10