The Lace Widow by Mollie Ann Cox

Author:Mollie Ann Cox [Cox, Mollie Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 29

The pain in Alice’s foot had subsided. As she moved along the street, she paid close attention to her steps, so as not to hurt herself again. With a basket full of handkerchiefs, she marched herself toward the Fly to sell them to vendors. She’d inquired about setting up shop there for linens, but rent and upkeep were expensive and it didn’t make sense for the women in the house on Pearl Street, who managed very well to work and sell from home without a shop.

The heavy scent of baking bread filled the air. Alice never allowed herself to buy bread made by others when she could make it herself. But she had to admit that the temptation clung to her as she moved forward.

A spice vendor peered at her through his strung-up herbs. He nodded politely and she nodded back, inhaling the scent of the familiar rosemary, along with unfamiliar scents that made the back of her throat itch. She made her way beyond his barrels of powdered red and yellow spices.

The crowd thickened the closer into the market she moved. A dog sat in front of a hot pretzel vendor, looking very pleased with itself as some dogs do. Alice resisted the urge to reach down and pet it, or, God knows, it might follow her home—she’d learned that lesson the hard way.

There, between a fruit vendor and a hat seller, was the man she’d come to see. He didn’t appear to notice her as she made her way to him. Very few people did notice her. It was one of her greatest assets.

“Monsieur DeSoirre?” Alice said loudly to be heard over the din of the crowd.

He turned to her and smiled. “Mrs. Rhodes, how lovely to see you.” His eyes went immediately to her basket. “What have you brought for me today?”

She opened the lid of her basket and he peeked inside, pulling out the delicate handkerchiefs. “Mon dieu. You’ve been busy. I recognize your fine hand.”

Alice beamed. Of course he did. “Thank you. Do you want to purchase them?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course. I’ll give you a fair price.”

“I know you will.” She lifted the handkerchiefs from her basket and handed them to him. The lace work seemed so delicate next to his ruddy, rough skin. A fiddle played in the distance as he took the cloths from her and handed back money.

“Good day and thank you for buying.” Alice walked away toward a small tavern where she often treated herself to a cider.

She entered the dark space gingerly, stopping to allow her eyes to adjust to the dark. She spotted a chair near two other women, one of whom she recognized, so she made her way to them.

“Alice, how are you, love?” Brigid Monahan slurred.

“Busy. How are you?”

“Busy with my fourth here.” She laughed. Too hard.

Her friend rolled her eyes. “I’m afraid she’s had a bit of a scare.”

“I was let go again. I don’t have nothing. I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Brigid wailed.

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