"Well, I was born and raised in Middlesbrough, north o 'ere. Four o' five. Me father's a cobbler, along with me eldest brother. Me other brothers works in a foundry. I did too fer a bit, until I joined the police."

"Ye made t'e right choice, I t'ink..." she grinned, "Cuttin' a fine figure in uniform." She was openly flirting with him now, but it had been quite some time since her last encounter with a man she was even remotely interested in. "I was born in Dublin. I married me husband when I was young and lost 'im ten years ago, not yet two years after we married. I've been workin' as a maid since."

The fact that he looked good in uniform, and that she appreciated it, pleased him. He decided that he would be more mindful of his waistline and not visit Willaby's as often. But then he'd miss her... He cast a surreptitious look at the woman at his side, She too cut a fine figure.

"It's 'ard but 'onest work, don't you think?"

She smiled widely and nodded, "I wouldn't have it any ot'er way." Delilah then lowered her lashes at him, wishing that he would grant her sugar of another kind completely... A sweet kiss, that was. But she wasn't so bold as that to ask him to sample a kiss from her. She could picture it when he did, though. Would it taste like pastry? The thought made her smile even more and she placed her hand upon his arm in the way a lady would, as if proud to be on his arm.

At the batting of her lashes, the tips of Bert's moustache twitched, forcing his lips into a smile. He couldn't help it, she seemed to have an effect on him. When she was around, he found himself focused on her and when she was not, his thoughts still drifted to her. This persistence hadn't been there with his last woman; back then the persistence had been all his, following her to Whitby, finding her lodgings, dodging the lobbed contents of a piss pot..

"So, at this new job, are ye gettin' yer own horse like a lady of means?" he asked mischievously.

"I am sure if I asked ta borrow a horse, I could. But ye'd have ta teach me how ta ride." She did not intend for that to come out sounding so longing, for it wasn't necessarily horse back riding she pictured. Oh no, she had to let her eyes drift closed and try not to blush. It had been so long! So damned long since she had been merely hugged or kissed, a full decade almost. She had opportunities to be with others since her husband died, but it seemed like such a betrayal to her husband's memory for the longest time. But damn it, she was tired of being the merry widow. She wanted to be someone's wife! She wanted a small family, and love, and joy, and laughter! Would he fulfill that wish??

She looked up at him with a more serious, more guarded expression then and then down, almost removing her hand from his sleeve, he might even feel such hesitation from her in the way her fingers loosened. Oh, how she wanted him to grab her hand and pull her close, and the thought of it gave her both a thrill and trepidation.

What if he didn't want those things? She stopped walking, then, and looked up at him, saying softly, "Ye have ta know somet'in' about me. I haven't taken a turn wit' anyone since me husband, and he's been gone fer a long time. Near ta a decade even. I don't have anyone in me life ta declare yer intentions to but me. I need ta know what t'ey are. What are ye hopin fer?"

"Uhh, aye. Of course I can do that." Bert replied confidently. Because of course the son of cobbler who grew up to be a policeman knew how to ride a horse - translation he didn't have a notion, but he was too proud to confess to that Delilah. Bert looked at Delilah, her eyes closed, her cheeks pink and he wavered.. maybe he should come clean about his poor horsemanship. but her expression stopped him. He felt her pull away, and there was her thousand pound question.

"Delilah, I.. I'm mad crazy about ye." and it all came pouring out. Bert was surprised with just how easy it was. "Since that day in the bakery, I can't stop thinkin' about ye. Yer beautiful, yer funny, and ye've good taste in sweets. I'd be a 'appy man to 'ave ye in me life." Yet the words kept coming in big, honest globs of truth.

"being a copper isn't an easy job, at times it's disgusting. People only see the uniform. Men and Women scream at me. Kids, they spit on me. I'm just doin' the job. It'd be nice to have some one I can talk too fer..." his voice got lower, his tone sadder. "Me. Ye know. Just plain old Bert." he sighed. Could Delilah be that person? He hoped so.

"Oh, Bert..." she said with a sigh, "I was hopin' ye'd say that... That ye feel fer me the same as I feel fer ye." Her eyes searched his then and she gave an almost, shy smile. How she longed to trace her finger over his mustache. "Are ye askin' me ta let ye court me then? Is that what ye wish, me darlin' man? I like ye just as ye are!" She couldn't help but to brush her fingertips over his lapel.

She felt as if she were floating in mid air, and he was holding onto the string that kept her from floating into the clouds. "I think ye're a fine man," she said softly, "and it would be me honor ta stand next to ye."

At her words, her closeness, and now her touch, Bert's little truncheon stiffened slightly. For he was a man, and she was a woman. A beautiful, sensible, pastry loving woman.

"I've been before the bench many a time, but this the only court that matters. Can I? We'll do it right and proper."

"Aye, Bert. Aye..." she said breathlessly. Her heart was nigh unto bursting with joy. Oh, she couldn't wait to tell the ladies at work. "Ye may court me," she murmured then and looked up into his eyes, her smile almost tearful, for she was so overwhelmed to know that one day, she would be his wife. Delilah Hailey had such a ring to it.