Coming in from the dark, Lizzie paused for her eyes to adjust to the light emitted by the large fireplace on the opposite side of the great room and stamped her feet to avoid tracking any more mud than necessary inside.
“We’ll go ta bar an’ ask after Anna.”
John guided Lizzie through the entryway to a long bar with a selection of glass decanters holding various spirits behind it. A lad who looked to be about twelve years old stood behind the bar polishing glasses.
“What’ll it be?” he asked.
“I’ll have a cider, and the young lady . . .” John turned to Lizzie. “Perhaps a small glass of Madeira?”
“Yes, please. Is there anything to eat?”
“Supper finished a while ago. I kin get you some bread and cheese.”
“We’ll both have that,” John ordered. “Bring it to the table in the corner.”
“Wait,” Lizzie said. “I’m looking for my cousin Anna Shipman. Do you know her?”
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