Mr Erstwhile dabbed the corner of his eye. “My dear, you will make an old man cry if you continue to shower me with such praise.”
Estelle propped the brush against the counter. She came to stand at his side and placed her hand on his sleeve.
“It is deserved, sir. And I shall be forever in your debt for the kindness you have shown me.”
Mr Erstwhile covered her hand with his own and patted it gently. “We were never blessed with children. But had we been so fortunate, we would have wanted a daughter
exactly like you.”
Estelle’s throat grew tight. She did not deserve their good graces. The Erstwhiles made her want to be kind and loyal, to be honest and true regardless of how frightening the thought.
“Then I shall try not to disappoint you.” Gathering herself, she sucked in a breath. “Now, I should go to Mr Potter and collect what we need. Mrs Erstwhile is still weak from this sudden bout of sickness, and I would like to be here when she wakes.”
“Did she drink the ginger tea you gave her?”
Estelle nodded. “I sat by her bed until she’d emptied the cup.”
“Then go now. I can—”
A knock on the door preceded the turn of the handle and tinkle of the bell.
Mr Hungerford entered the shop and paused in the doorway. “For a moment, I feared you weren’t open today. The sign says you’re closed.” His curious gaze drifted to the display cabinet, to the empty shelves and missing drawers, to the neat pile of herbs and shards of glass on the floor. “Good Lord, has something happened here?”
Mr Erstwhile ushered the gentleman inside and shut the door. “A slight mishap that is all. Someone broke in through the back door last night and made a dreadful mess.”
The colour drained from Mr Hungerford’s face. His green eyes flicked to Estelle and scanned her from head to toe. The nervous flutter in her stomach spoke of unease, not admiration.
With golden hair and a pleasing countenance, she considered him a handsome gentleman. Dressed smartly in a claret coat and hat, green waistcoat and beige breeches, he had the air of a man running an important errand. Oddly, she had a reason to be thankful to the intruder. Mr Hungerford would have to be without feeling or conscience to make a romantic declaration today.
“I trust no one was hurt by this dreadful fiend?” Mr Hungerford’s gaze never left her.
“Thankfully, it happened while we were dining with you, sir,” Estelle replied.
The gentleman appeared stunned. “Then I cannot help but feel somewhat relieved that you were not at home. Although I doubt the villain would have had the courage to enter had he noted the glow of candlelight streaming through the window.”
“Who can say?” Mr Erstwhile said. “Time spent contemplating what might have been is time wasted.”
After seeing Ross Sandford, Estelle wished she could embrace that particular pearl of wisdom.
“Indeed.” Mr Hungerford removed his top hat and placed it on the wooden counter. Tugging at the fingers of his gloves, he removed those, too. “Now, tell me how I can be of assistance.”
“Oh, no, no.” Mr Erstwhile held up his hands. “We are almost done here, and I cannot have you dirtying your fine clothes on my account.”
“But the sooner things are put right, the sooner you can return to normality.”
“What is normality but merely a figment of the imagination?” Mr Erstwhile replied cryptically.
The comment gave Mr Hungerford pause. The gentleman struggled to form an appropriate reply. “There must be something I can do,” he eventually said.
“The door is fixed, the shop tidied, and Miss Brown is off to collect provisions.”
Estelle groaned inwardly.
For a man so wise, Mr Erstwhile rarely spoke without thought. Did he share his wife’s opinion? Was he as eager to thrust her into Mr Hungerford’s path, just as keen to see her wed and settled?
“Then I shall accompany Miss Brown on her errand.” Mr Hungerford’s eyes sparkled to life. One corner of his mouth curled up into a satisfied grin. “With my assistance, she can collect twice the provisions.”
Mr Erstwhile walked over to the window and stared out into the street. “Hmm. You’re walking today I see.”