“Me? Funny? I do not carry on conversations with a stuffed bear head.”
“Sebastian offers excellent companionship.”
Maggie took her husband’s arm and leaned on him as she alighted. “Please do tell me where we are. I’m dying of curiosity.”
“I didn’t know you were cat. But now that I know, I’ll make sure to pet you till you purr.” He lifted her chin and kissed her. His lips moved over hers, slow and sweet and full of promises.
“Tobias,” she sighed.
“Yes?” he whispered.
“Where are we?” She stepped away from him. “Enough of your secrets.” She looked around at the small street where they’d stopped in front of a row of cottages. “I must know. You can’t keep the secret from me any longer. I could get the answer from any man or woman on the street.”
“Well then, you best have it from me. We, Lady Maggie, are in Spitalfields.”
“Spitalfields. It’s not very nice sounding is it?”
“No. Not poetic at all.”
“Why are we here?”
“So you can meet the Quinns.” He walked her to the front door of a small cottage and knocked. Noise rumbled behind the door. The sound of feet pounding across floorboards grew louder. The door flung open. A child blinked up at them then turned his head over his shoulder. “Ma!” he cried. “Pa! Mr. Blake is here!” He turned back and eyed Maggie. “And a lady!”
A man and a woman joined the boy at the door. The man reached out to shake Tobias’s hand. “Mr. Blake! We weren’t expectin’ ya.”
“I’m sorry for the unannounced visit. I was hoping to introduce you to my new wife.” Tobias pulled Maggie forward.
The woman curtsied. “I heard you were a lady.”
Maggie felt her cheeks heat. “My father is a marquess, yes. But please do not hold that against me. You are …?”
“Dear me, I’m Mrs. Quinn, and this is my husband.” She placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And my son, Murphy.”
Maggie crouched down. “Hello, Murphy.”
Murphy grinned at her and then at Tobias. “She’s pretty, Mr. Blake.”
“That she is. I was hoping I might show her how you make the silk I buy from your family.”
Murphy turned and darted between his parents. “Come on!”
Mr. and Mrs. Quinn parted, ushering Tobias and Maggie forward into their home.
Maggie looked about at the large front room. A loom, much bigger than any she’d ever seen before occupied most of the space before a large window in the tidiest room she’d ever seen. “Is there no factory?”
Mrs. Quinn approached the loom and rubbed her hand down a wooden side. “I s’pose our home is our factory.” She motioned for Maggie to join her. “Come see what we’re workin’ on.”
Maggie approached. The colors of the woven silk on the loom called to her, and the light streaming in from the large window gave her a clear view of the pattern being woven. A rose. No. An eye. She looked up at Tobias, startled. “Is this?”
He neared and looked down at the design. “Ah. It’s coming along well, isn’t it.”
Mr. Quinn nodded. “Difficult to make, but a treat, a real treat.”
Tobias smiled at her shyly. “I was hoping to make a gift of it to you. Your sketch on my silk—the Quinns’ silk. I hope you do not mind. Do you like it?”
“It’s exquisite.” She shook her head. “Mrs. Quinn. Mr. Quinn. You are truly talented.”
Mrs. Quinn waved away the compliment. “It’s nothing. A family trade, nothing more. We almost lost our work several years back, but Mr. Blake brought us into his little scheme.”
