Tea, Lycanthropy and Other Virtues

Chapter Five

"Still, it gives me a chance to get the lay of the land, so to speak," Mary said. "I expect I'll still do most of my shopping in London, but it's a good idea to get to know the local shops and shopkeepers. And now that we're friends, I can look to you for advice." She dimpled at Constance.

Constance didn't know what to say. Were they friends? She knew everyone in Bunsall, but she didn't belong to any of them. Not in the way friends belonged to each other. With a mother who grew up aristocracy and a brother who hadn't even spoken a word until he was four—Well, she just didn't fit.

"There is a bookshop in London," Mary went on a spring in her ladylike step. "they make the loveliest tea. The proprietress is very proud and in love with felines. She turned me out once because a friend and I didn't compliment her shop cat. Can you believe that?"

Constance had a hard time believing Mary would be turned away from anywhere.

"Ever since I try to find out anything I need to know before I patron a shop."

"The only thing you'll need to know about Harley and Sons is that Mr. Harley frequently falls asleep behind the counter," Constance said. "He's hard of hearing these days, so if you need to get his attention, I find it's helpful to drop something heavy as close to him as possible."

Mary laughed.

The overhead bell tinkled as they entered the dry goods shop. Sun filtered in through the window, illuminating bins of grains, sacks of flour, the locked case of sugar cones. The smell of oats and licorice tickled her nose and brought to mind trips here with her father.

"Good afternoon ladies," Mr. Harley said.

"MR. HARLEY THIS IS MY COUSIN LADY HUNTSMAN," Constance yelled.

"A pleasure," he bellowed. "Can I help you?"

Mary handed him her list. "I'm hoping to have these things in three weeks' time if possible!" She spoke nice and loud. "We're hosting a ball."

Constance wandered away to peek at the muslin, the too loud voice of the shopkeeper filling the space. The price was chalked on the end of the bolt. Constance pulled her cloak around herself as her heart sank. Mother and Gran had made it for her back when mother's mind was secure, and father's earnings from the army had still been coming. Mother had been very particular that it be made from red fabric. Constance didn't care if it was out of fashion. She liked to wear it like armor.

"That price seems high, doesn't it?" Mary said conspiratorially, making Constance jump.

"Are you done?" Constance asked hurriedly.

"I am." Mary was looking at her in a way that made Constance want to pull the hood over her face.

"So am I," she said instead, trying to keep her tone light.

Mary took her arm and led them from the store.

The birds singing and the sun shining did little to quell the pensiveness in Constance's chest.

"Shall we walk home?" Mary asked, steering them down the street. "Maybe you could help me with something." They cleared the few shops and continued past the stone fences and rolling green pastures. "Edward is a bit of a dandy when it comes to his wardrobe. He won't wear anything from last season. I hate to throw out perfectly good clothes. Would Simon have any interest in them?"

Constance pulled her arm free and turned to her cousin.

"You don't need to do that, Mary. We're fine. You have no obligation here." Her face was on fire.

Mary clucked her tongue. "Constance, I'm serious about the clothes. He won't wear anything if he thinks it's the least out of fashion. If you have use for them, I don't see why we shouldn't give them to you."