Philemon was tall and lanky, with sun-dusted hair that always seemed ruffled. Behind those smiling dark eyes was a mischievousness she always wanted to stay away from. But despite her constant refusals, he kept coming, sticking to her like glue.
"Made Lina," he called her name oddly because he felt it was special that he should be the only one to call her differently, as her name was like sugar on his tongue.
She forced a smile and bowed, showing him this respectful side of her only because her brother was present, and she wouldn't let him see anything that was not shown as love. She was teaching him this because, from the many books she had read, good conduct, respect, and love always triumph. She wanted Josiah to grow up into a fine young man with all of these qualities.
"Philemon," she said awkwardly, holding Josiah firmly.
Philemon smiled, a wide grin on his face, then he faced the heavens and looked back at her. "Do you believe that God exists?" he asked.
Madeline was taken aback by the question. Of course, she believes in God. She goes to the cathedral to pray for His good will and blessings, but she didn't quite understand the question.
"If you do not believe in God, then you should start now," he said, cutting through her words just as she was about to speak. "I had asked God to let me see your beautiful face today, and lo and behold, here you are. In this many crowd, He still singled you out for me," he winked. "Don't you think we are meant to be, my dear Madeline?"
Madeline's mouth hung open. At that moment, she wished she could tear his petticoat and scratch his skin. How delusional of him to think that a girl like her would stoop so low to be with him.
The one who goes about tarnishing the reputation of young women who are yet to marry, and after dealing with them, it becomes difficult for anyone to marry them because they had been tainted.
It is a rumor, one that was not supposed to concern her, but with the way he acts around her, she would not doubt if it was true.
"Philemon, I need to go," she said, about to drag Josiah away from the man. However, he stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder, which she promptly shoved off.
"Do not leave so soon, Madeline," he called her name with emphasis. An exasperated sigh escaped his mouth as his shoulders slumped. "Do give me some of your time one of these days to show you who I am."
Madeline snorted. Who was he to think he could impress her? Her gaze shifted to Josiah, whose eyes were fixed on Philemon, but he remained silent, making no attempt to intervene or laugh.
'It must be hunger,' she thought.
When hunger had gripped him to this extent, he became reserved and would not talk, especially to strangers. Philemon turned to Josiah and ruffled his hair. Madeline closed her eyes; she was the only one meant to do that, not a blonde boy with lanky hands.
"Jo, long time no see. How is the fine young man?" Philemon's voice was filled with excitement.
"Good," Jo nodded like a good boy, his gaze still fixed on Philemon.
"Jo is hungry. We have places to be, if you may," Madeline raised a brow, and this time Philemon did not block their path as they left. "Farewell, Madelina. I hope to see you soon," his voice said behind her.
Madeline growled in frustration. Who did he think he was? This was what she meant when she said she would rather stick to the men in the romance books she read. Where were those men who would sweep a lady off her feet with just a smile on his face, with just the way he would drawl your name?
She knew that was fiction. Those were stories that can't be real, but at least that connection should be there. Or a gentleman, the one she would come to love after marriage.
But all she was left with was village drunks and the likes of Philemon. Men that speak before they think.
"Do you not like him?" Jo's innocent voice shocked her, and she quickly shook her head, composing herself. "No, Jo, why did you say so?
He shrugged, his gaze averted ahead. "You seem uncomfortable near him." He looked at her and pouted, "I do not like him if you do not like him."
A warm smile graced her face, one that melted her heart. She did not even realize when she engulfed him in a tight hug. If Jo could notice how uncomfortable she was in his presence, how come the one who made her feel uncomfortable did not even notice?
Philemon really has a long way to go when it comes to sweeping a woman off her feet. If he thinks she would ever like him, then it would probably be in one of his many dreams.
"Oh look, Jo," Madeline pointed at the bread being displayed as they neared the bakery, "Would you like to take rye bread?"
Excitement danced in Josiah's eyes, and he jumped, "Yes."
As they neared, they saw more bread being brought out from the bakery and placed on a small stall.
The fresh, flavorful scent of flour wafted through the air, one that could ignite an unknown hunger in you, making you stop just to take a bite to see if the taste matched the tantalizing scent.
Mr. Richard's bakery in Oakdwell was the best in the country; they might not have as many buyers as in the big town, but Madeline saw that as unfortunate. Besides that, she could attest that no bread was finer or tastier than the bakery breads in the village.
"Madeline," the elderly man with a white beard and bald head, his skin darkened from being near the fire and the sun, walked up to them.
A black apron was tied around his body, and he had a warm smile on his face even though there was stress in his eyes. There was something warm and peaceful about Mr. Richard; maybe it was the way he always welcomed her, as if she were a princess.
"Ahh, look who came with you," he patted Jo's hair. Jo laughed, but his eyes would occasionally avert to the displayed brown rye bread.
"How many loaves, Madeline?" he asked, walking back behind the stall so he could attend to other customers. Madeline walked towards the stall; the scent was even stronger, causing her stomach to rumble.
"Four loaves," she looked into her hand, where the pennies were. She saw that she had about three pennies and each loaf was one penny. Madeline sighed; she had thought there were about four pennies, not even counting them when she had taken them from the chest.
"Three loaves," she smiled at him so he wouldn't notice the worry in her eyes. Each loaf was meant for them; but it seems they would have to share the bread.
Mr. Richard nodded and went back through a door. A few minutes later, he returned and handed Madeline a wrapped bag.
"Take this, Madeline. Please don't reject it."
As Madeline looked into the bag, she saw five loaves of bread. A gasp escaped her lips as she looked at him too quickly.