"Do you know if these come in a different color?"
She tugged the short leather glove onto her hand, fastening the button at the wrist. She examined her hand, clenching and then unclenching her fingers to test the fit.
"Well, hello, mystery woman."
She jumped nearly a foot in the air as she spun around. William leaned against the counter, a newspaper tucked under his arm and a devilish smirk on his lips. She didn't understand how he managed to sneak up on her the way he did, but she was too embarrassed to care.
"Mon dieu, you nearly gave me a heart attack! Good gracious!" She cleared her throat, regaining her posture. Tugging the gloves from her hand, she turned to the girl behind the counter, who quickly averted her eyes. "I'll take these, please."
The shopgirl's eyes slid between them one more time before quickly ducking away. She turned her attention back to William, who still leaned against the counter. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow after thanking the shopgirl for the the gloves. "I take it you've seen this morning's paper?"
"The gossip column is very popular." He smirked, following beside her, after she paid for the gloves.
"And once you've outgrown your season, the only thing left interesting are the lives of others, yes?" She rolled her eyes. "Pardon my manners but you British are just so…terne. So…boring."
He scoffed playfully, "You mean to tell me you've never picked up a gossip magazine or listened in on what someone else is saying? A young girl as fashionable as you has never once picked up a copy of La Vie Parisienne or La Mode and even so much as skimmed the gossip section?"
Her cheeks turned red, and she was more than aware that he had noticed. His lips rose into a satisfied smile. He remained quiet until they had made their way back into the sunlight. He came to a stop as they were to part ways. "I don't suppose you would care to join me for tea this afternoon? There's a small place, not terribly far from here that might be suited to your tastes."
"Well you did promise "tomorrow," and now here we are…" She paused for a moment, glancing at her busy path towards Eaton Square. In the distance she noticed a familiar pair of girls quickly waving down her attention. Her pulse suddenly shot to her ears, dreading the conversation. Quickly, she looked back at William, who stood holding his hat in his hands, awaiting an answer. She let out an exhilarated breath. "I don't see why not."
"Well by all means, shall we make our way?"
"Yes, I…," she glanced back one more time, Martha and Addie gaining quickly on them. William's gaze followed hers, quickly returning to meet her eyes. He raised an eyebrow at her and she knew immediately what he meant. Grabbing his hand, with a quick nod, they both broke into a run, swiveling through the confused pedestrians and passing the quiet tutting that trailed behind them.
"I have no idea where we're-" Her laughter was suddenly cut off as her ankle gave out, her heel caught in a crack in the curb. William skidded to a stop, quickly pulling her back from the oncoming traffic that just barely missed her.
"Ups-a-daisy." He steadied her back onto the sidewalk, his arm lingered around her waist from where he had lifted her. "We don't need you to become roadkill."
She gave him a sly look before wiggling out of his grip. An older woman with an impossibly high collar tutted behind them. Her cheeks reddened, but she turned her head to look directly at the woman, raising a defiant eyebrow. She opened her mouth to say something, but William had already begun pushing her ahead.
"Thank you for catching me back there. Very much."
"You're very welcome." He paused as if he was going to add something, but his face simply returned to his regular slick smile.
"So, you never told me where we were going."
"You'll see, we aren't terribly far." He led her along a side street before they were dumped back into a bustling street, although it was quite different than the previous one. On the corner was a man smoking a cigar, finely dressed in a suit, paired with an expensive looking turban on his head. The street here was full of small stalls, one in particular being run by a old woman, whose stand was filled to the brim with tasseled shawls and a line of books all bearing the same yellow paper covers. The smells of spices, liquor, and tobacco surrounded them like a cloud as the made their way through the street, passing the like of both well dressed men and scrappy pageboys. She paused by an artist's stall, scoping an impressive stack of nude portraits.
"I had no idea London could be so bohemian."
"Do you like it?" He shifted, leaning towards a painting that had caught his attention of a woman entangled in red sheets.
"It feels much more like home." She smiled, brushing her hand along a canvas. "I'm much more used to artists, not so much the aristocracy. I've spent most of my life in Montmartre, my mother is buried there."
"Montmartre?" Her attention shifted from the art to the artist, who was leaning on a stool at the end of the stall. "Êtes-vous parisienne?"
"Bien sur!" She laughed, giving a simple wave at herself. "D'où viens-tu?"
"Pigalle, mais je suis parti après la Crue de la Seine, et toi?"
"J'habite à côté du Palais Garnier, mon père est un compositeur." She smiled, blushing slightly. "Et je chante, un peu."
"Et Londres? Pourquoi?"
"C'est juste pour la Saison." She glanced at William who had stepped aside to look at the art, but who still listened curiously. "C'est pas Paris."
"C'est vrai," The man put out his cigarette on the cobblestones before standing. Grabbing the portrait she had been admiring, he wrapped it quickly in parcel paper and held it out to her. "Pour un Parisien, d'un autre."
She backed up slightly, a bright blush flooding her cheeks. She glanced at William again who watched the interaction quietly. "Je ne…"
"C'est pour toi." He laughed, finally handing her the portrait. "Pour Paris, ouais?"
She bit her lip, holding the portrait to her chest. Finally with a nod she grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. "Merci, monsieur. Merci beaucoup."
"De rien." He smiled, pulling another cigarette from his pocket, and waving away her thanks. With a chuckle he tilted his head towards William. "Et si tu vest un portrait…"
She laughed, nodding, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. "Bien sur! Merci, monsieur."
She waved the man goodbye, before returning to William's side. "I'm sorry about that, I didn't mean to exclude you."
He dismissed her apology before taking the portrait and tucking it under his arm. "Do you miss Paris?"
"I miss it very much. London is lovely. But…" She paused, folding her hands in front of her. "There is nothing quite like la vie Parisienne."
She shrugged softly, and he offered his hand to her. "Perhaps lunch might make you feel more at home?"