A recipe of love

Chapter 40

In the midst of all the upheaval and uncertainty that had gripped the household in recent days, a quiet glimmer of joy began to take root. Not all moments were bound in secrets and betrayals, and on this Saturday afternoon, beneath the London sky, Eliza, Margaret's loyal maid, found herself relishing a rare and precious bit of freedom. She adored walking the city streets, and her weekly excursions were a cherished reprieve from her duties. Though she was now thirty, she felt young and lighthearted on these outings, allowing herself the luxury of forgetting the day's labors. One of her favorite indulgences was visiting the book stalls along the Thames, perusing the poetry and novels on display, and picking up bits of literary treasure whenever her modest wages allowed.

On this day, after treating herself to a slim volume of poetry, she wandered into Hyde Park, her spirits lifted by the crisp air and the low murmur of distant voices. She felt herself lost in the beauty of the autumn foliage, her mind drifting as she strolled along the park's winding paths. But as she glanced up, her steps faltered. She recognized a figure just ahead, one whose familiar silhouette sent a flutter through her heart.

It was Mr. Lennox.

A blush rose to her cheeks as she hesitated, wondering if she could slip away unnoticed. However, almost as though he sensed her presence, he turned and spotted her immediately, a warm smile spreading across his face. Eliza had no choice now; she dipped her head politely, her heart racing as he approached.

"Good afternoon, Miss Eliza," he greeted, his voice deep and unmistakably warm. His dark hair was threaded with grey, and his beard bore the same marks of time, yet his eyes held a gleam of kindness. "What a pleasant surprise to meet you here."

Eliza's cheeks flushed even deeper. "Good afternoon, Mr. Lennox," she replied softly, managing a shy smile. "I was... just enjoying the air."

"A wise decision," he said with a chuckle, falling into step beside her. "The city can feel rather stifling, can it not? Hyde Park, however... I dare say it is the perfect remedy."

Eliza smiled, nodding. "Indeed, sir. I find there's something very soothing in just... wandering." She held up the small book she'd bought, a bit sheepishly. "And I do enjoy reading, though I suppose that's not terribly exciting."

"Oh, I'd argue otherwise," he replied, glancing at the book with interest. "You have a keen mind, Eliza. And I wonder, if you would care to share, what it is you've been reading?"

She hesitated, biting her lip, before confessing, "Well, it's poetry, sir. Byron, actually."

"Byron!" He looked at her with genuine surprise and a hint of admiration. "I must confess, I never would have expected it. Miss Margaret keeps your hands rather full, I imagine, and yet you still find the time to indulge in such a pastime. Admirable indeed."

They shared a quiet laugh, and Eliza found herself relaxing. "Yes, well, Margaret does keep me busy, but there is always time for a bit of verse, especially on these walks." She glanced at him shyly. "Though I'm sure it's all quite frivolous to you, sir."

He shook his head. "Not at all. I may not share your taste for poetry, but I envy you your enthusiasm for it." He chuckled softly, "And please, I insist you call me Adam."

Eliza's blush deepened at his request. "Then... very well, Mr... Adam," she said, testing his name with an uncertain smile. She couldn't recall anyone ever asking her to call them by their first name before. It made her feel as though, in some quiet way, he regarded her as an equal, as a person worthy of true regard.

As the hours drifted by, their conversation touched upon every topic, from Eliza's love of London's markets to Adam's tales of his travels abroad. Though they seemed to share little in common, Adam listened with a patience and attentiveness that left her feeling seen, truly seen. And she, in turn, found herself enchanted by his stories, his deep, rumbling laugh, and his thoughtful gaze, which made her feel as if she were the only person in all of London who mattered in that moment.