“Thank you, my lady.” Mrs. Pettigrew appeared starstruck by the glamorous debutante. “My grandpapa built the shop at an angle by accident. Since his mistake drew customers, he didn’t bother to change it.”
“As I am often a trifle askew myself,” Lady Gigi confided, “I shall feel right at home.”
Her quip led to laughter all around. A smiling Mrs. Pettigrew seated the party at her best table, which had a view of the village green. After the food arrived—pots of strong Assam tea and plates of sandwiches and cakes—Xenia slipped away to find the good lady, who was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a familiar dish.
“Is that Poor Knights of Windsor pudding?” Xenia asked.
“Indeed, it is.” A smile tucked into Mrs. Pettigrew’s generous cheeks. “Since the mop fair, it has become my signature dish. I do hope his lordship’s party will enjoy it. And I must thank you again for bringing them to my humble establishment.”
“You’re most welcome. The truth is I have another purpose for coming today as well.”
“Oh?”
Xenia repeated what she’d told Mr. Khan. “If you can tell me anything else about Bloody Thom, I would appreciate it.”
“I don’t know what else to add.” Mrs. Pettigrew tucked a stray curl beneath her cap as she mulled over the matter. “But you ought to pay a visit to Henrietta Sommers.”
Although Xenia had passed Mrs. Sommers’s dress shop on several occasions, she’d never had reason to go in.
“Her grandpapa, Old Man Walford, lives with her and knows Chuddums better than anyone,” Mrs. Pettigrew went on. “You might have seen him in the square wearing a checkered coat.”
“You mean Wally?” she asked in surprise. “The gentleman who gives directions?”
“I see you’ve met him,” Mrs. Pettigrew said fondly. “Mr. Walford is in his nineties now, and his faculties aren’t what they used to be. However, he was the mayor at one time and might have the information you are seeking.”
It did not take much convincing on Xenia’s part to add the dress shop to the group’s agenda.
“There is a dress shop in Chuddums? Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Lady Gigi moaned. “We should have gone therebeforeI stuffed myself with Mrs. Pettigrew’s pudding.”
Ethan arched a brow. “If you wish to skip the visit?—”
“Skip the dressmaker’s?” The raven-haired beauty looked at her brother as if he’d suggested that she somersault off a bridge. “I think not. I shall simply do what every lady does in such a situation.”
“You’ll choose a looser style?” Parkhurst ventured.
“Heavens, no. I’ll tighten my corset strings.”
Lady Gigi rolled her eyes at Xenia as if to say,Gentlemen don’t know very much, do they?
On the way, they lost Misters Canning and Parkhurst to a store displaying pocket watches. Mr. Pickleworth also stopped them, barring their way like a highwayman with his platter of cut tomatoes. As usual, Xenia declined, but in contradiction to her earlier concerns, Lady Gigi sampled several slices and purchased some to take home with her.
“These are the most delightful tomatoes,” she exclaimed.
“Exactly, my lady.” Mr. Pickleworth handed her the bag while giving Xenia anI-told-you-solook. “Ripe and juicy, like I said.”
When they finally entered Mrs. Sommers’s shop, Xenia gazed around with professional admiration. Despite the small space, everything was neat as a pin, with no clutter anywhere. A line of fashionable frocks was displayed on dressmaker’s dummies. Cabinets containing unmentionables and accoutrements were tucked along the wall for discreet browsing. Looking glasses were spotless and counters polished to a dust-free gleam.
The dressmaker came to greet them. Dressed in black, she was small in stature and as tidy as her shop. Hastily, Xenia smoothed a wrinkle on her skirt.
“Good afternoon. I am Mrs. Sommers.” The dressmaker curtsied. “May I be of assistance?”
“I hope so,” Lady Gigi said brightly. “I am visiting my brother from London, and in my haste to see him, I did not pack sufficiently. I am indireneed of a wardrobe.”
Truth be told, Lady Gigi looked like a fashion plate in her stylish pink-and-white striped carriage dress, bonnet trimmed with matching ribbon and silk flowers, and dainty shoes. Like any wise businesswoman, however, Mrs. Sommers’s response was a deferential nod that said the customer knew best…especially when said customer had ample coin to spend. An assistant seated Lady Gigi in a comfy chair and brought her tea while Mrs. Sommers proceeded to show her examples of the latest silhouettes to use as inspiration for her own gown. The assistant brought over bolts of fabric for Lady Gigi to inspect.
Lady Gigi narrowed the choices down to two. “Ethan, which color do you prefer?”
Ethan, who had been idly examining a display case of gloves, looked over at the bolts. “They are both blue.”
