“Although I had hoped…” Miss Mitchell gave her pocket-sized bellows a frown. “Ah, well. I suppose clients can continue applying perfume drop by drop if that’s what the public wishes.”
“It’s a lovely scent,” Noelle said firmly. “No matter how one applies it. Where are you off to now?”
“Back to the laboratory.” Miss Mitchell returned her items to the leather satchel. “All that’s left is proof of efficacy. A few more trials should do it.”
“Be sure to come out of your workshop by tomorrow night,” Noelle said. “You won’t wish to missThe Winter’s Tale.”
Miss Mitchell brightened. “I would never.”
“The Winter’s Tale, the Shakespeare play?” Benjamin asked.
Noelle’s eyes shone. “Fuzzy Wig adores Shakespeare. He started the tradition.”
Of this, Benjamin had no doubt. “I didn’t realize Cressmouth had a theater.”
“No theater,” Miss Mitchell explained. “At least, not the enclosed variety. We’ve an amphitheater on the other side of town that we use for plays.”
“Are you mad?” He stared at the women in disbelief. “You sit outside for three hours in this weather? On purpose?”
Noelle’s eyes laughed at him. “I told you. It’s a Christmas tradition.”
“It’s January,” he reminded them.
“Not the holiday of Christmas,” Miss Mitchell explained helpfully. “Thetownof Christmas.”
“For the last time, it’s not—” Benjamin gave up.
“Will you be attending?” Miss Mitchell asked him.
Benjamin gave a theatrical shudder. “Absolutely not. I want nothing to do with Christmas.”
Miss Mitchell frowned. “The town or the holiday?”
Benjamin heroically refrained from pointing out that the constant confusion would end if they left the village’s original name alone.
“Both,” Noelle said. “He’ll leave it all behind as soon as he’s able.”
“When he does, there will be one less duke in Christmas,” Miss Mitchell said with a sigh.
Benjamin stared at her. “Not you, too.”
Noelle raised her brows. “Not her, what?”
He was starting to believe the entire town had conspired to drive him mad. “At the reading of the will, some woman claimed there were twelve dukes in Cressmouth.”
Noelle exchanged glances with Miss Mitchell.
“The mathematics appear sound,” her friend confirmed.
“Low, if anything.” Noelle tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips as if counting mentally.
“There are not twelve dukes in Cressmouth,” Benjamin burst out in annoyance.
“How would you know?” Noelle asked reasonably. “Can you even name twelvepeoplein Cressmouth?”
He folded his arms over his chest. “I challenge you to name all twelve dukes, then.”
“Well, there’s you,” Miss Mitchell began. “Obviously.”
