It was the first time since her babes were born that she had left her house. With her brother off to do his work somewhere, she had asked a neighbor to look after the twins for a time so she could get a break and do some much-needed marketing. With a basket slung over her arm, she purchased her favorite, some Scotch Eggs, knowing she would eat them before she got home, and then was on her way to the next stall over.

She was singing softly as she moved about the market, purchasing fabric here and some yarn there, and foodstuffs to take home with her.

Frederic was browsing the marketplace this fine morning, haggling with vendors and greeting neighbors as he passed them by. A reclusive sort of man since his wife Patsy died, Frederic didn't call anyone his friend, but knew many an acquaintance through his profession. Being the only clockmaker in Whitby, his business was decently busy, and he'd seen most of the adults here in the market once or twice in his store. Passing by a younger woman he'd seen a few times around town, he tipped his old brown hat at her with a pleasant smile, knowing her name by her brother (a customer of his once or twice) and offered a polite, "Good mornin', Miss Calloway."

She looked in surprise to the man who addressed her, "Hello, uh..." She did not know the man's name, for she had been in confinement until that day. He was devistatingly handsome and she was surprised that she even noticed. It had been a scant six or so months since Harold died and she was surprised to have any appreciation left in her for the opposite sex at that time. "And you are?" asked the blonde, her head tilted. It didn't help that she was still new in town and not acquainted with many people. Her brother didn't like her leaving the house very much, at least not while she had been extremely pregnant or whilst taking care of two newborns.

Frederic paused in his slow, casual stroll and smoothly turned around again to Miss Calloway with a warm smile.

"Frederic Mulhavil, miss. I own the clocksmith's just yonder to the church," he replied, in no hurry to get going. "A pleasure to finally meet you, miss. Your neighbors speak well of you."

"Oh do they?" she asked in surprise. The Irish accent was a little more pronounced with the question. Karen then gave the first smile she had given in a long time, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mulhavil." His name rolled off her tongue almost like a purr, though not intentionally. "A clocksmith, ye say?" she also didn't mean for her brogue to come out, but she was a new mother and she was tired.

"My neighbors are lovely, they help me quite a bit with the little ones."

Frederic's smile grew when Miss Calloway mentioned 'little ones'. Ever since his son Clover was born, he'd had a strong adoration for most children (except the spoiled, bratty ones), and considering the good things he'd heard about the Irish-born Miss Calloway, her children were likely to be of a good sort, too. Her neighbors had mentioned to him once or twice that she'd had twins, but anything further, he didn't know.

"What are their names?" Frederic paused, realizing he might have been a little too bold there, and clarified, "Your children, that is- I wonder, for I have a son myself. Clover. He is seven, and mischievous lad." Frederic smiled fondly as he thought of his son and waited for Miss Calloway's reply.

"Harold Jr., and Niahm," she said softly. "A boy and a girl. This is the first time I have been out of me house since birthin' them." she said in all honesty. Her eyes drifted downward. "Tis a shame Harold could not meet his wee ones." The way in which she spoke of her late husband sounded much like she had loved dearly. "Clover is a dear name for a lad," she added softly. She pursed her lips for a moment as a thought went through her head. "Perhaps ye can show me yer clocks sometime?" Karen almost said something completely different. Lord, but he was a handsome devil.

Once more, Frederic's smile grew. He shifted the long loaf of french bread he had tucked in a tight sleeve of a bag under his arm as he took her in a bit better. She was certainly a pretty woman, but in sweet, subtle ways, and Frederic surprised himself when he thought of this. He hadn't considered any person of the opposite sex attractive since Patsy died, but then again, seven years was a long time. Maybe he just hadn't been looking. He especially appreciated that Miss Calloway liked the name Clover- it was Fred's best friend's name, a man of which had passed away just a few months before his namesake was born and Patsy died, and so it meant a lot when someone said they liked it. Her question to see his clocks sometime surprised him a little, but in a good way; it wasn't often that someone wanted to see his craftsmanship when not shopping for the clocks themselves, and it was nice to find someone who was openly offering to appreciate his work.

Yet this Harold- she was a widow, yes, now Frederic remembered. All too recently, as well, he thought, and his heart went out to her, understanding her loss.

"Gladly, Miss Calloway. As I said, my shop is just past the church. Of course, I wouldn't want to trouble you the distance. You are a new mother, as I understand, and I would be more than happy to bring a few things to your residence sometime if it should suit you better." 

If he kept smiling at her that way... Heat crept up the back of her neck and into her cheeks, though she didn't know why other than she hadn't really expected to be having a lovely conversation with a man besides her damned brother. Oh, but she was already prepared for a lecture or two if Pony ever caught wind of her even flirting with a man. Then again, he might go easy on her this time because the man wasn't a doctor. Not that she had any business flirting with a man when it hadn't even been that long since Harold passed. She shifted her basket on her arm and bit her lip. Then again, it was so awfully lonely since she had lost her husband. Would it be wrong to be friends with someone such as this clockmaker?

"Ye know, I would like that," she said to his offering. She would not feel shame for entertaining a fellow. She had no intention of doing anything naughty, right? "I should be going home now... Ye could walk me if ye'd like, it's not far from here. That is if ye'd like to tell me more about ye and yer son or yer clocks." Oh lord, she had said it.

Frederic's smile, which had drooped a bit when Miss Calloway bit her lip- had he said something wrong? -widened for a third time in the last few minutes and he replied, endeared by the blush growing on her cheeks and the way she'd asked about himself, his son, then his work, "It would be my honor." He offered her the crook of his arm, and so they started on their way, Miss Calloway leading as she was the only one out of the two of them who knew the way to her house.

"What is it that you desire to know of me, Miss Calloway?" he asked, willing to share quite a bit if she asked him. There was something about those eyes, something that he was just noticing now, that was drawing him in, letting him trust her as if she wasn't practically a stranger. "Don't be shy, I can be rather talkative if given the chance- and the good company."