It was Kestrel's job within her father's household to make sure things ran as smoothly as possible. Twice a week they had a woman come in to tend to various things but for the most part, it lay on Kestrel to take care of it all. Outwardly, the girl did not seem to mind. She approached everything she did with the same sort of quiet resolve. 

Her day had started out like most of her days had done. She'd rose before the sun did and began cooking her father's morning meal. His morning meals were always as simple as he preferred to fast. However, given his age and the state of his health she always made sure to give him a bit of something. This morning it would be porridge. They could not afford for her to eat as well so she would not until later in the day. When his meal was prepared she'd stepped into his room as quietly as she could and had woke him. 

The mind of Cornelius might have been frail but his body was not and when he came awake it was never pleasant for the young woman. She kept on though and was soon at the table with his breakfast and the well-worn bible that he'd dragged across continents. 

At midday, their help arrived to clean up around the small cottage and the woman always sent Kestrel out of the house while she worked. Not wanting the young woman hovering and giving her a much-needed break away from the hell that she spent her days in. 

Kestrel was a pretty enough young woman that even in her rags and tatters she drew the eyes of young men. Given her unassuming attitude they often approached her but she seemed unaffected by their attempts at flattery. If word ever got back to her father that she even spoke to them, she would find herself in a world of trouble. Not that they realized that. So too often she was accosted as she walked here or there. She'd taken the coins she'd saved and splurged on a small bit of food for herself. Nothing overly fancy but it was something she didn't often get. 

The young man that spoke to her now had offered to get her something else but she had declined, happy with the small treat that she'd gotten for herself. Her waist-length hair was bound back in a braid and wrapped in a coronet around her head. A dark square of cloth was tied over her head. The dark cloth matched that of her dark dress. The dress was a bit too short, patched, and faded, but despite all of that it was still a bit too loose on her slender form. She smiled at the man and nodded to whatever it was he'd said. She did listen. It really was not his fault that conversation about his horses weren't very exciting to her.

Andrew was busy in his new shop, stocking up racks with bread, baskets filled to the brim with all sorts of pastries that were designed to make the mouth water. The smell of fresh baked goods wafted in a large perimeter around the building. He grabbed the chalk board he'd had made by a local craftsman, one that folded out a little to be able to stand, and he angled it right beneath the awning in case of rain, then wrote, "Grand Opening, free tart for each customer, free samples of the following: Macaroons, cream puffs, and eclairs.

Satisfied, he stepped back and stared at his handiwork, then moved inside. The day had only brought a few customers since it was the first day and most people who stopped by were onlookers who might come back the next day. He thought if he gave some samples of the oldest, but still fresh batches of some of his items, he might win more people over.

Andrew had learned the trade from his long dead father and he had taken up the mantle back in his home town... He'd only done it so his mother could keep their home... once his mother died and his only sibling went and got married, Andrew packed up what he was going to take, gave his sister what she wanted, and sold the rest that nobody was sentimental about as they had been mundane things... and he moved to Witby two weeks ago. He immediately spent the last of his nest egg on the bakery and spent the next weeks repairing things on his own and making the place presentable.

He glanced over and then did a double take as he noticed a rather pretty young miss who looked like she could use something to eat, and he went in quickly enough to retrieve something that wasn't a free sample: a sticky roll. He put it in a brown paper sack and wax paper, and he moved to catch up with her. "Miss... Here." He said in a nervous voice, and assuming she took it, he cleared his throat and said, "You look like the type who would enjoy a lovely sweet roll. I baked them fresh today." And then he smiled and walked back into the shop to get back to work.

The young man who walked with her seemed put aback by the other young man who approached and offered her a brown paper sack. She shuffled the orange she held into the crook of an arm and opened up the bag he had offered to peer inside. She smiled as she spotted the treat within the paper and glanced up to thank the young man who had offered it. He was already gone though. Disappearing into the bakery. She frowned a bit and glanced toward her companion, who still looked a bit put out by the interruption. "Pardon me Mr. Garrett" She smiled again and then trailed after the young man into the bakery. 

She paused at the entrance. She plucked a bit of the sticky bun from the roll and put it into her mouth, chewing slowly. It was good. Very good. A small hand curled into her skirt and she turned to greet one of the children that always seemed to haunt her steps whenever she wandered away from her father's home. She stepped away from the door, moving aside and then dropped so she was on the child's level. Kes! Kestrel smiled and pulled a piece of the bun from the bag, this she offered to the child. Kes may not have eaten often but neither did the child. It was more important that the girl get food than Kestrel herself. 

"How are you today, Anna?"

Andrew whistled while he put the finishing touches on the racks, and sang with a slightly out of key voice in a jovial manner. When he heard the voice, the tall man turned. It was her, the pretty lass, and she was sharing her pastry with a little child. He smiled and said, "If you tell your mother or father to come by and mention my name, Andrew Willaby, I will gladly share what bread I did not sell so it doesn't go to waste." He then looked at the petite lass and he gave a smile. "And same for you, miss, if you are hungry, I would rather give fresh bread before it goes stale."

He tried not to stare at the lass; his throat felt thick with nerves. He wasn't one to flirt.... in fact, he tended to avoid women for the moment, which he could not help given parts of his past he didn't talk about. He had always been shy around the fairer sex.

He moved about and started to wipe at his equipment, wanting to make sure his facility was clean and ready to bake at any given moment. An old woman came in, glanced cooly at the ragged clothing of the young lass, but said nothing as she floated on by and said in a wispy voice, "I would like to buy one of everything," it was the housekeeper for the Carrington family. "My master has particular tastes and I want to give him samples of everything to split with his wife so I can know if you will be our new baker." Andrew quickly took care of her and said as he was bagging everything up, "Aye, Madame," and gave a price off the top of his head, sans the pastries he already gave out as samples.

Kestrel nodded and smiled at the man, grateful for his kindness. Even if she would not take advantage of it. Her father would never accept charity. Still, there were other families that might benefit from the man's good nature and she would share the information with them. The young man who'd been speaking with her followed her into the bakery and glanced this way and that. He wasn't a lord's son but his family had more money than some. 

The woman may have given Kes a look when she walked in but Kes only smiled at her and then turned her focus back to the child next to her. She took several more pieces of the roll and ate them, before offering the rest to the child. The little girl ran off and Kes straightened, giving her companion a small smile. She stayed back while the woman made her ordered and said nothing. 

She wanted to thank the baker but she would wait until the woman had gone.

It didn't take him long to grab one of everything, charge for the stuff that wasn't free, and send the dour-faced woman off to do whatever it was she did. He glanced over to the young miss again every few moments while he spoke to the old woman and he would smile her way. She certainly is a pretty piece of fabric, he thought cheerfully just before finishing. When the old woman was gone, he glanced to the male who followed the girl in, and he wondered if they knew each other and were a couple. Shame, he thought.

"May I get something for you, sir? Bread rolls...? Sticky buns? Macaroons? Biscuits? What might I interest you in?" But his eyes kept moving back to the woman who's name he did not yet know. "And how about you, Miss? Is there ought that interests you?" He flashed another smile. Ugh, he was no good at flirting, was he?

She let him handle the woman, ignoring whatever look she gave. Looks such as that were not unusual for her. She looked more the part of street urchin than vicar's daughter but her father had always been on about the importance of avoiding frivolity. She set the child on her feet and stood as the woman left the building. She shot a glance to the man who'd trailed her but made no attempt to move closer to him. He was a companion and nothing more. 

"I am fine, but I think she would like something" She pressed the child forward and the child asked politely for a tart, which she'd been informed was free by Kestrel. Even if he weren't handing out things to children, Kes was more than happy to offer her own treat for the little girl to have. When the treat was handed over the girl disappeared from the shop with a thank you and gleefully began eating her prize. 

"Thank you for the sticky bun, we both enjoyed it."

The baker smiled at the child in question and then, once learning what flavor she liked, he crouched down and gave the sample to her. He watched her scamper off to eat it and then straightened up and looked again to the pretty woman who happened to look the part of an urchin. He pressed a tart into her hand and said, "Anything," with a murmur, "For someone as lovely as you." That part blurted out and red filled his cheeks. "Uh, many pardons for being forward, miss." And then he cleared his throat.

He was not sure where the flirting came from since he barely approached women in such a manner. He was going to get into trouble if he kept it up, wasn't he? He gave a long look and then cleared his throat again, feeling like an awkward schoolboy in the process of turning around to rearrange the treats.

She did not seem to notice his attempts at flirting, mostly because she herself did not understand what flirting was. Plenty of men flirted with her and she always seemed to ignore it. She smiled and took the tart from him and then turned slightly, taking a bite. She wasn't moving away, merely looking around. She and her father had only been here several months, but she could not recall this place or even him before. She knew quite a few people, given her father's job as a shepherd tending what he considered to be errant sheep. 

She lowered the tart and glanced toward the man who'd followed her as he stomped out of the place. Had he gone a bit red? What was he upset about. She didn't trail after him. His annoyances were hardly her concern and he'd only get her into trouble anyway. Kestrel might have been oblivious, but her father saw all associations with men to be obscene. Innocent or otherwise. 

"This is very good.. thank you"

"You're welcome," he replied and said, "You are welcome to come here any time. My name is Andrew Willaby and I just moved to this town for a fresh start." He never chattered... why was he chattering? He sighed at himself to try and calm himself. Perhaps his nerves were due to his recent move and all of the unpacking and such. He nervously grabbed for his broom and leaned on it, intent on sweeping the crumbs up at some point, not that there were many to be swept.