“The market? Well uh – “Bert’s words trailed off as he became aware of a growing awkwardness within.

He could usually deal with members of the public just fine. Women too with all their weaknesses, complaining, and modern ideas didn’t bother him either. But here, now, with this woman, he was rightly stumped. Turn those bloody ovens down man! His sense returned and Bert coughed slightly turning his head away slightly to squash any show of unmanly feelings that might have started to flourish. Softness vanquished, he turned his head back towards her.

“Well Miss, the Market is on my beat this morning. If yer feeling unsafe?”

"Not wit' ye around," she grinned. She was shamelessly flirting now, aware of him as he was aware of her even though he seemed to be fighting it. The young widow was lonely, she had to admit that much to herself, and she was eating her feelings away with delicious pastry. Now she was looking at him with big blue eyes and smiling his way.

The faintest hint of a smile appeared at the corner's of Bert's moustache. He recognised when a woman was being charming with him, it had been a while, but he still remembered the game.

"Well," she said reluctantly, looking at the time and frowning. Ahh, the Carringtons' housekeeper would be fit to be tied if Delilah did not return to her duties, so she grabbed the basket of bread she almost forgot about that the baker had ready for her. "I had better get to market affore me employer gets angry at me for bein' late. It was lovely ta meet ye, sir. I will be back here tomorrow at the same time," she offered.

"I've 'eard that criminals do like pastries, Miss O'Connor, the sugar feeds their thieving. I might just have to stop in 'ere tomorrow, to check on things. As a matter of fact, I 'ave reports that the criminal classes are going after fruit and veg today. It keeps 'em nimble, so I should go along to market."

"Oh, aye?" she asked and grinned. Then she sauntered toward the door, feeling pretty spectacular. She had no idea that her now, wonderful day was about to be turned into the worst kind of day. Without that looming in her mind, she was on cloud nine. Once at the door, she looked back at him over her shoulder and lowered her lashes flirtatiously. "To the market then."

Bert watched her retreat, his eyes riveted to her saunter. God Bless St. Patrick!

"Don't forget ye pastries, Constable" the baker's wife reminded the law man holding out a bag. Bert could have sworn she was smiling at this whole affair...

"Thank ye." Bert replied snatching the bag away. He was starting to feel embarrassed so hurried out of the shop, plopping his helmet on as he went.

When Bert caught up with her, she gave a smile his way. "I am glad to have run inta ye today, Constable. I was gettin' kind of lonely with me pastries," she giggled softly and lowered her lashes at him again. He sure was cute in his uniform, all dressed up fine like. She could just eat him up.

Bert's mustache twitched as he vainly suppressed the smirk that her attention created. He was on duty, and had to be professional, but he did sneak a sideways glance at her, fair hair cascading across her neck and shoulders. Indeed, gaze did make him throw his shoulders back with pride.

"I'm glad I could be a comfort to ye. All part of te public service."

"Oh, Aye, ye are a comfort indeed," she said softly as they walked toward the marketplace so she could pick up other orders. Her eyes sparkled as she looked his way again, admiring him from beneath her lashes.