“Good day, Mr. Townsend.” I peered at the pages opened before him. “Whose brilliant words are you reading this morning?” Most men grew uncomfortable with my love of reading, but not Robert Townsend. Every week, I purchased a new book from him. Often, we also had a spirited discussion about Milton or Homer.

He looked up. “Ah, Miss Coates. I have just spent the past hour with Alexander Pope, who has taught me that”—he ran a finger down the text, angling his head to read through his eyeglasses—“ ‘fools rush in where angels fear to tread.’ ”

“I suppose I’d better stop rushing places.”

Townsend’s smile broadened. He had one of the sweetest smiles I’d ever seen. Slow to spread, but complete—like a sail opening to the wind. “You could never make a misstep, Miss Coates.” He closed the book and slid it aside. “I’m afraid I don’t have your order.”

“I know you don’t. Evelina was given to me last night as a present.”

“Ah, good. Mrs. Holdridge came by yesterday. She was keen to surprise you. Happy birthday, Miss Coates.” His gaze moved past me, to the street outside. “Is Malcolm with you today? I hate to trouble you, but a child is unwell and I had ordered a tonic from Dr. Holdridge. I would be most indebted if Malcolm could deliver it directly, as I’m stuck here until my clerk arrives.”

“Of course he can.”

“Thank you. The child is in my storeroom with the mother, who’s fallen on hard times. ’Tis in this very building, but it must be accessed through the alley. Malcolm won’t miss the door—the handle was installed improperly, at a slant. He will find Mrs. Burgin in the room at the top of the stairs.”

As he spoke, the same wild feeling came over me as yesterday, swimming in the river. A pressure in me, like I wanted to break open. Release the tension inside.

“Consider it done,” I said. “I’ll give your instructions to Malcolm myself.” I bid him goodbye and stepped outside, feeling the glass vial through the soft silk purse as I rounded the block quickly. It was improper for me to deliver it—Miss Coates should never shool about like this—but I wanted to do this small thing. And soon I’d be married; then perhaps my every step would be commanded by a husband.

I came to the alley behind the store and dove between the brick buildings, picking past puddles and street rubbish till I found the door with the slanted handle.

I opened it. Narrow steps led up. Gathering my petticoats, I scurried to the top.