Molly started at the clink of the plate on the table - way to go, girl - and glanced up. "Oh."

Oh good. Food and tea. Smiling, she set the book aside and picked up the muffin to rip it in half with long, deft fingers. "I think this will do very nicely, Mr. Sharpe."

Still playing the hoity-toity game, the sly tilt of her lips is belayed by the warmth in her eyes as she casts a quick glance in his direction, and by the genuineness of her tone when she says, "Thank you."

For the distraction from the book, for the company, for the food - thank you.