The Marketplace.
“Good day, to you both, and well met,” he said with a smile and a slight bow as he tipped his hat. He took them in via quick scan as he stood up and extended a hand to the gentleman. She was dressed in a well-cut homespun cloth that did not seem to match the well-made nature of the gown. He was well dressed, his face aged but framed with darker hair. His face was sharp, angular, or as his mother would say a Massachusetts man. His speech punctuated the words with a clear, distinct learned tone.
“Matthias Wendt, at your service,” he said with an extended black-gloved hand to the older man. He assumed the man was the woman’s guardian, if not a direct family member. “I would be delighted to have the company, and direction to Hall and Sellers. Although books are not my purpose, I must confess. Rather paper of the highest quality for a set of maps in response to the warrants I was requested to survey for the Board of Property. Will be burning a few of these for certain in the nights to come.”
He held up the candles and smiled.