And now, Daffy inched closer, her countenance somber. “I was home and now I’m here. How’s the chair? We need it done soon.”
“It’s coming along nicely.” He motioned for her to inspect his handiwork. With Emmanuel’s help, he’d attached the legs to the seat and was about to sand and stain. “We’ll have to redo all the stain, but we found a proper match.”
The carpenter gave a silent nod to Daffy and lifted his teacup.
“Will it be ready when the guests arrive?” She ran her hand over the now-smooth leg. “I wonder if King Titus really fashioned this Doric column, or if someone put these legs on later. This style was used widely in the sixteenth and seventeenth century.”
“I wish we could know.” Gus glanced at Emmanuel. “Don’t suppose you know, do you?”
He shrugged. “I know what you’re doing is good. Let’s keep going. Daffy, are you all right?”
“Of course.” But she looked as if she’d lost her best friend. “Emmanuel, do you know a woman named Adelaide? She said you told her to give me a box holding a blue gown.”
“I know Adelaide well. I thought you’d like the dress. Doesn’t it fit your needs?”
“It does. We’re using it for theUnknown Bride. But I find it odd that the gown once belonged to Queen Catherine II.”
“All the more reason you should use it.”
“Yes, but how did Adelaide get it? And why did you tell her to give it to me? How did you even know I would go to Shop Vintage? Why do you care?”
“Adelaide and I are old friends. I told her if you visited to give you the box. And I care because that’s who I am.”
“Was the dress yours to give? It was a Taffron Björk, so it wasn’t made yesterday or in the ’80s. Did you purchase it somewhere? Donate it to Shop Vintage?”
Gus regarded Daffy. What was going on? She was visibly tense and drilling ole Emmanuel as if he were on trial.
“Daffy, do you need all the answers now? Let them come when they come.” The carpenter touched her shoulder. “Peace.” Then he finished his tea and set his cup in the sink. “Gus, why don’t we call it a day? We’ll finish next week and return the chair to its rightful place.” Emmanuel settled his wide-brimmed hat on his head. “Gus, a word?”
Excusing himself with a glance at Daffy, Gus wiped his hands on his apron and met the man outside the shop door. A light spring rain dripped over them from budding tree limbs.
“What are you going to do?” the carpenter said.
“About what? The chair? Return it good as new, or well,old, and never sit in it again.”
“And Daffy?”
“Daffy? What do I—” He looked through the shop where she inspected the chair and read from the Royal Trust folder. “She’s engaged, mate. And I’m not looking for a relationship. We’re friends, nothing more.”
“Are you?” Emmanuel tipped the collecting water from his hat. “Until Monday.”
* * *
Daffy
Sunday morning Daffy stood among the gowns and the sunlight falling through the skylights and pooling down the Grand Gallery.
The gowns moved in color from a rich burgundy to cream, to white, with the brilliant blue sheen of theUnknown Brideshimmering at the end of the line.
“Surveying your work?” Gus approached, his hair shiny and loose about his face. He wore jeans, work boots, and a thick pullover. No denying the flutter her stirred in her heart.
“They look so stunning in the light. ThePrincess Louisaespecially. The pearls look like tiny moons.” She smiled at him before looking away, surprised by a spring of tears.
Gus had carried her home in the cart after he closed the workshop, asking if she wanted to dine at the pub. But she’d declined. Stayed in her suite and ate popcorn, watched the telly, and cried when she felt the tears. Even if breaking with Thomas was right, it still stung.
She threw kernels at the flat-screen when Leslie Ann came on announcing her Royal Special airing onThe Rest of the StorySunday night, the 30th.
Then she’d cried again and talked to the walls. Told Thomas and Blinky what she thought of them, indulged in ice cream she found in Chef Charles’s kitchen, and at last, slept.
