She threw a friendly smile and a small nod to the nearest group of people and entered the first shop she encountered. It was the accessories shop, called the haberdashery.
The shopkeeper approached her, delighted she had entered her shop. Whether that delight was because of the prospect of business or gossip, she didn’t know. Maybe a bit of both. Oh my, she was bound to disappoint the woman, for she would not provide much of either.
“Good day, miss. Is there something that catches your fancy?” The shopkeeper said, waving a hand at the colorful clutter that seemed to occupy every nook and cranny of the small shop.
“Good day.” She looked around for an object to mention, and her eyes fell on a pretty ivory fan with a painted scene and gold lace trim. “I was looking for a fan. That one over there. May I see it?”
“Of course, Miss.” The shopkeeper took the fan out of the display stand and handed it to her. “It’s beautiful. You have good taste. Your accent is not from these parts. Are you American?”
Ah! And so began the Inquisition.
“Yes, I am.”
“Ah, I thought so. Have a cousin who married an American, and he spoke like you. And are you visiting us or staying for good?”
Goodness, these people were nosy. “I am visiting.”
“Is that so? Well, are you interested in something else? Maybe some mementos to take back with you for your family and friends? You don’t have to worry about carrying them. I can have it all packed and delivered. Are you staying in the Hall?”
Wow! The police should hire the woman as an interrogator. She was relentless.
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I can take the fan with me now.” She threw the shopkeeper a friendly smile to take the sting out of her rebuff because she would not answer the other question. “How much is the fan?”
“Two shillings, Miss.”
She had no clue how much that was. Oh, how stupid she had been to visit this village! She was not prepared. The only thing she would accomplish was to create massive gossip. She took out the smallest note and held it out, admitting to being confused.
“I am afraid that, being American, I am not familiar with how your money works. She held out a pound note. Will this cover it?”
“Oh yes, miss. That’s more than enough.” The shopkeeper took the note, opened a wooden box, counted out some coins, and gave them back to her. She had no way of knowing if the change was correct, but it didn’t matter. She said goodbye and exited the shop. The footman stood right outside. The maid had followed her into the store but had not said a word.
She saw the carriage was still stopped a few yards away, so she walked towards it, intending to leave before she could get into any more awkward situations.
But just as she was about to climb in, a piercing whistle rent the air, and she felt a rumble on the ground. It sounded like a train. Could it be?
“What was that?” she asked the footman, who was giving her a hand up to the carriage.
“That’ll be the train, miss.”
“A train,” she repeated, smiling with delight. She hadn’t realized they had trains already in this period. “Take me to the train station, please.”
“Aye, miss.”
When she got to the train station, the train was still there. An idea formed in her mind, but instead of launching into it without thinking, she had to get more information. She asked the footman, who was a bright young man named Johnny, to accompany her and approached what seemed to be the ticket booth.
There she learned the train’s destination was London, by way of Oxford. The ticket master also informed her it would take about an hour to reach Oxford, and that there would be another train from Oxford to Avondale departing at four that very afternoon. She could explore Oxford for a few hours and return in time for dinner. In a larger town like Oxford, she would attract far less attention. On impulse, she got three tickets for herself, the maid, and the footman and jumped on the train just before it departed.
