The dress was beautiful. It reminded her of a long vest over a maxi dress. There was a linen embroidered underdress called a shift, then the gown, and what she thought of as a vest was the surcoat. She’d only seen embroidery like this in a museum or on haute couture. All around the neck, sleeves, and hem were a riot of flowers and leaves. The surcoat was made out of bronze velvet, and embroidered within an inch of its life with gold metallic thread. The gown had a corset built in, so she didn’t have to wear a bra. There was also a hidden zipper placed so she could reach it, to get in and out of the dress by herself. As she smoothed her hands down the dress, she felt an opening.
“Pockets. Perfect. I can keep my phone with me.”
“They wouldn’t have been invented in the early 1400s, but all my customers want them, so I put them in. And really, what does itmatter? Not like you’re going to the past.” Mary made a small adjustment to the ornate belt at her waist and stood back to take in her work. “No one wore underwear then, if you’re wanting to get in the spirit of the party,” she said with a wink.
Ashley folded her undies and bra and stuffed them in her bag, along with the sweater dress she’d been wearing when she arrived.
“Why not?” She caught sight of her reflection, and the woman staring back at her was pretty. Her hair had been braided with tiny pearls woven in the strands, making her feel like a supermodel.
She took a step forward, watching the thread shimmer. “I don’t know how women used to walk. This is heavy. Guess that’s why they didn’t have to work out.”
“Are you sure you don’t want the shoes?”
Ashley pulled the dress up, showing off her boots. “Nope. These are my favorite boots. I can run if I need to, and it’s not like anyone will notice, since the dress goes to the floor. I once ran ten blocks in these to make a meeting on time. They’re my version of armor.”
There was a knock on the door, and Douglas the model came in. “Wow, you are smoking hot.”
He stared at her from her feet to her head, stopping at her chest for a minute too long. There was rather a bit of cleavage on display. When in the theater, one must look ravishing, was Mary’s answer.
“Thank you, Douglas.” Ashley turned to Mary. “I don’t know how to thank you. The work on this must have taken a thousand hours. Are you sure I paid you enough?” Her coat looked ridiculous over the dress, but it was only for the ride back to the car. She hoped there would be valet parking at the party so she could leave her coat off to make an entrance.
“You paid plenty, love. I charged you the rush rate. The dress was done—just needed a nip here and a tuck there. The actress I made it for took a role in a futuristic film, so she didn’t need it.” Mary grinned. “You best get going if you want to make it to theparty on time. Can’t have you turning into a pumpkin and let that rat you work with win, now can we?”
“Absolutely.” On impulse, Ashley hugged the woman goodbye, feeling like she was hugging a tiny doll, though a doll made of fire and steel with a dash of humor thrown in for good measure. Outside, she was relieved the horse wasn’t tied to the gate.
Douglas must have read her mind.
“I brought the bike so you wouldn’t get hair on the dress. If you tuck your skirts up and hold them, you should be fine. It isn’t far, and I’ve taken a few of the actresses in similar dresses between the theater and Mary’s house.”
While she’d been on the back of a motorcycle before, she hadn’t had so much dress to manage. Careful not to crease the beautiful creation, she pulled it around her then took the scarf from her coat pocket and covered her hair.
“I’m ready. Don’t go too fast or you’ll mess up my hair.” She put her arms around him; the guy had a torso to rival a superhero.
“I know how you women are about your hair. Don’t worry about a thing, it’ll be grand.”
He kept his word as he drove them through the tiny pathways, back to the rental car. Practically hopping off the bike, she held out a hand.
“You’ve been my knight in shining armor. Thank you, kind sir.”
He opened the compartment on the side of the bike, coming out with a flashlight and paper bag, which he handed her.
“You’re welcome. Figured you’d be hungry, so I stopped by the pub and picked you up something to eat on the way.”
“Probably won’t get a bite until morning, so I really appreciate it, thanks. Now remind me which way to go. I don’t trust my phone anymore.”
The flashlight illuminated a napkin with what looked like a hand-drawn map.
“It’s really easy: turn around and take the first right, and then follow my map, which bypasses London. Once you get back on themotorway you can pick up speed, and you should make it before the clock strikes twelve. Just don’t lose your glass slipper. I’ve given you a shortcut, should save you about half an hour, maybe a bit more. Put you there around ten thirty or eleven.”
He waved as he rode off, and with a frown at her watch, she climbed in the car, determined to make it and show off the amazing dress.
The first couple of turns went fine, but then she came to an area that was supposed to look like a twisted fork. All she saw was a turn left or right. Debating for a moment, she took a left and kept going. After driving around in what she thought was a giant circle, she realized she was lost. Again. Drop her anywhere in the city and she could find her way, but here? It was as if fate was conspiring against her at every turn.
A wooden sign leaned to the right. The wordsRuins aheadhad been hastily painted on, as if some enterprising farmer was trying to entice lost tourists to stop. Dubiously eyeing a wooden bridge that looked a million years old, she held her breath as she drove over it, and then parked under a tree that looked as old as the bridge. Ashley stopped the car, caught the water bottle with her sleeve, and watched in horror as the water turned the napkin to mush, the black words blurring into a charcoal mess.
“Damn it!” Somewhere there had to be a road sign.Think. What were the next few turns?She got out of the car, using the flashlight on her phone to look around, holding the possessed phone above her head, trying to get a signal. After stepping in two mud puddles, she swore until she ran out of curse words.
“I hate it when technology fails.”
