Thorne stops beside me, assessing the interior of the department store with far less enthusiasm. “I can’t believe we have to put up with this farce.”
“I heartily agree,” Mr. Boris says. He’s in his humanoid form today and has been rather cross all morning. Though I daresay his sour mood began yesterday when I briefly relayed the events of my first meeting with Monty Phillips. He lifts his chin. “Mr. Phillips is lucky I was preoccupied yesterday. I might have torn out his throat with my teeth.”
I give him a placating smile. “I don’t think my parents would have appreciated that, Mr. Boris, considering I’m doing this for them.”
Minka links her arm with mine. “At least we get to go shopping. And with Mr. Blackwood’s funds!”
Thorne nudges the bridge of his spectacles. “Are you sure this is necessary?”
“You saw the note,” I say. “Of course it’s necessary.”
Thorne mutters a string of curses but doesn’t argue. He knows I’m right. After a blessedly uneventful rest of the evening yesterday, I got a good night’s sleep for once, and a dreamless one at that. I awoke more refreshed than I’ve been in days and was even feeling somewhat positive about the newest developments in our scheme. But all those good feelings fled when I received a note this morning that read:
Second game. Dress pretty for me.
I was momentarily puzzled over thesecond gamepart. What happened to the first game? Then I recalled what he’d said when he’d kissed my cheek.You’ve already won your first round. I was glad to find he’d been serious about that since it means I only need to win four more games to fulfill our agreement, but I was more enraged than anything.
Dress pretty for me.
Like he has any right to demand such a thing!
Thorne was equally annoyed when I showed him the note over breakfast this morning. Since Monty was nowhere to be found, we were left to figure out what to do about the game on our own.
Hence shopping.
“Come along, then,” Thorne says, tone begrudging. “Women’s clothing is on the second floor.” He starts off toward one of the staircases, leading our party past the reception desk. Two fae females in simple black dresses welcome us with enthusiastic grins. As soon as we pass the desk, I catch a snippet of whispered conversation.
“That’s Mr. Blackwood!” says one of the receptionists. “Oh, he’s so handsome. I can’t believe he’s yet to be married.”
“Yes, but who is the lady with him?” the other asks. “I’ve only seen him here with Miss Phillips.”
We reach the staircase, and I’m no longer able to overhear the conversation. Thorne shows no sign that he heard the receptionists gossiping, and simply strides up the stairs with the confidence of a king in his court. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I quicken my pace to reach his side. “You’re certainly popular here.”
He gives me a sideways glance. “Blackwood Estate isn’t far from Jasper. When I’m in town, I do my shopping in the city.”
My pulse kicks up as I ask, “Who is Miss Phillips?”
“Monty’s sister.”
I gathered that much already, considering they share a last name. “Are the two of you close?”
“Yes.”
I open my mouth, determined to find out just how close they are, when we reach the top of the staircase. My words stick in my throat as I’m suddenly distracted by the splendor around me. The second floor expands fully around the building in a circular shape, with a view of the first floor below at its center. The walls of the ladies’ department are papered in blush-pink brocade, the ornate coffered ceiling boasting crystal chandeliers. Countertops line the perimeter of the room, spread with ribbons, jewelry, vials of perfume, and hats. Velvet curtains enclose what I assume are private fitting rooms, where I see shopgirls delivering garments. Chairs, tables, and divans are interspersed between displays of evening dresses, ballgowns, daytime clothing, and even underclothes, giving off a comforting air. It begs one to stay and shop with leisure, and from the way several ladies sit and chat amongst their bags and boxes or newly purchased goods, shopping at a department store seems as much a social event as it is a practical one. I look from one end of the space to the other, unsure of where to start.
Thorne’s voice pulls me from my stupor. “Have you never been to a department store before?”
“Of course I haven’t. I’ve never even picked out my own clothing.”
“Truly?”
I meet his eyes with a pointed look. “I grew up at a convent, remember? Everything was chosen for me. What I’m wearing now is the first thing I’ve worn that wasn’t gray, and it was a gift, not something I chose for myself.”
A furrow forms between his brows. Is that pity in his eyes? He shakes his head, and the expression is gone. “Let’s start with daytime attire. You’ll need clothing for the week, not just today’s game.”
* * *
Shopping is far morework than I expected it to be. First, there’s a whole sizing chart to get used to. Then I have to try everything on to ensure a good fit. After an hour, I’ve selected two new skirts, three blouses, and a day dress. Only then do I realize I’ve yet to find a single outfit for today’s game. Thorne told me about Monty’s insistence that we meet at Blackwood Estate, so I assume the game will commence after he arrives.
