Noake—she was certain she’d heard the name!
She peered around again, but she could not see them. The two speakers—Noake and someone else, obviously a shopkeeper of some kind—must be on the other side of the thin partition that separated the teashop from the mercantile section.
This was her chance. She could find them—find Noake himself. She could conspire to reunite him with his jewels right here in the bazaar. She might never have such a felicitous opportunity again.
She threw herself to her feet with such vigor that she nearly upset the tea table. The spring onion gave a warning rattle.
Spencer stared at her in bemusement. “Parrot again?”
“Ah—”For heaven’s sake, Winnie, talk!“Ah—no. I’ve realized that I may not be back to Llanreithan by Saint Nicholas Day.” She backed away from the table, trying not to overturn her chair. Why was this teashop sosmall? “I always send Mrs. Upholland a mince pie. I shall need to… to order one.”
“Right now?”
“Yes,” Winnie said definitely.
“If you give me a moment, I can take you—”
“No!” she said. She’d aimed for cheerful—it came out slightly hysterical. She modulated her voice. “No need. You”—she waved her hand—“settle up here. I’ll be right back.”
“All right.” Spencer had taken a rather soothing tone, as one might use for an incensed toddler. “If that is what you wish.”
She nodded, clutched her precious reticule to her chest, and walked out of the teashop without looking back.
On the other side of the partition was a counter displaying leather goods, just beside the exhibition of macaws. She affected calm and arrayed herself at the edge of a group of governesses and their various small charges, trying to look as though she belonged.
Noake—where was Noake? She didn’t see any gentlemen within sight. Had he gotten away?
Disappointment flared in her, but she fought it back. Even if he had gone, the shopkeeper had mentioned sending something to Noake’s residence. Perhaps she could note the address for her own use at a later time. Or—the idea came upon her in a flash of golden light—she could transfer his necklace from her reticule into one of his packages and have it delivered to his houseforher.
It was worth a try. She angled her hat so that it obscured her face and made her way toward the standing. The top-hatted shopkeeper was not looking at her—his eyes were fixed with genteel hunger on a much more lavishly dressed couple browsing the perfumery.
“Fine leathers!” he called. Winnie’s heart leapt—it was the same plummy voice she’d heard address Lord Noake. “Saddles and harnesses, carriage accoutrements of all kinds.”
It was the same shopkeeper. This was the stall Noake had patronized. She had to get behind that counter.
Could she create a distraction? Something to get the shopkeeper away from his stall for a moment, something that would—
A parrot squawked near her ear, and she twisted abruptly to look in its direction.
Theparrots.The stand of vibrant, noisy, conspicuous green macaws.
She darted a glance between the top-hatted shopkeeper and the bird stall. Close—they were very close. Close enough that a distraction at one stall might…
Oh God, she was going to regret this, wasn’t she?
She took a breath and squeezed herself in between the leather-goods stall and the tropical bird exhibition, where she was struck by a piercing odor that was definitely not the perfumery. She made her way to one of the large cages and found herself face-to-face with one of the macaws. It had an enormous hooked gray beak, topped by a plume of scarlet feathers. Its eyes were small and black and fixed upon her. Its head tilted silently from side to side as it stared at her.
She reached out for the cage’s fastening, meaning to flick it free and then dash away. As she did, the parrot’s huge hooked beak parted slightly and then snapped shut with an avid, hungry click.
She had never thought herself particularly frightened of birds, but she had also never before met one with a beak the approximate size and shape of a scimitar.
“Madam,” said a crisp woman’s voice at her side. “May I help you with the bird?”
Winnie glanced at the woman.The hell with it,she thought.
Then she transferred her gaze to the other side of the stall, pointed dramatically, and squealed in her highest and loudest soprano, “Oh! That bird! It’s getting away!”
The bird seller turned in shock, and, quick as a flash, Winnie reached out and unfastened the door to the birdcage in front of her.
