Lottie pluckeda tan suede coat with a dark brown vest that appeared to be somesort of silk for Gus. I tried to stifle the giggle that forced itsway out at the thought of her getting him to wear something sofancy. Then my mind went to a side note. Finn.
“MadamGuthrie, would you happen to have something appropriate for aScotsman to wear?” I motioned with my head toward the door whereCillian had just slipped out. “For someone a little larger thanCillian?”
Her beady eyeswidened behind the teeny specs. “Larger? Good grief, are youdressing a Scotsman or a giant?”
Lottie and Iexchanged a knowing glance and I laughed. “A bit of both. He’s abig man. I’d understand if you don’t have anything on such shortnotice.”
“Nonsense.I’ve yet to turn someone away undressed.” The old woman waggled herbony fingers. “Madam Guthrie hassomething for everyone, dearie.”
She weaved herway to the back of the store, leaving Lottie and I standing inwait. We wandered around, picking at random dresses, all beautifulin their own way but none thatappealed to me. Too poofy, too small, too much color, not enoughcolor. I was beginning to lose hope of ever finding something niceenough to wow the socks off Henry but also narrow the jealous eyesof Roselyn Wallace. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, MadamGuthrie returned with a few thick garments draped over her shortarm. Plaid in color.
“Do you knowthe Scot’s clan?” she asked us.
“His clan?” Iquestioned back.
Lottie clearedher throat. “Finn’s last name. It depicts which Scottish clan hecomes from. He doesn’t share much of himself outside his lifeaboard the ship, though. And I’ve never seen his tartanbefore.”
Clan. Tartan.These were new terms to me, and I suddenly felt like a horriblefriend. But then I recalled my first encounter with Wallace. Yeah,my ears may have filled with the pounding of my anxious heart, butI still remember hearing her address Finn by his full name.
“FinniganArtair, is his name,” I told them both.
“Aha,excellent!” Madam Guthrie exclaimed and began sifting through thehefty layers on her arm. “I have the Clan Artair hunting tartan butalso this more traditional, common cloth.” She pulled out agorgeous, vibrant green plaid with bright yellow and gold stripes.“This one’s already made into a kilt and should fit a man of largeproportions.”
I shook myhead in astonishment. “It’s perfect. I’ll take it.”
“Wonderful,”she replied and opened a large, wooden chest near our feet. “You’llalso need these.”
She pulled outlong white socks, a neatly folded green jacket with gold buttons,and a crisp off-white shirt. I graciously accepted the items andlaid them on top of the kilt before setting them aside with Henry’soutfit.
“Now,dearies,” she said and clasped her hands together. “It’s time todress the both of your gorgeous bodies. Have your eyes caughtanything of interest?”
“I’d prefersomething that isn’t too… large,” Lottie told her and motioned ather sides with her hands. “I’d very much like to move withoutneeding a wide girth of space around me.” She chewed at her lip inthought. “And nothing too colorful.”
Madam Guthrienodded slowly, rubbing at her chin as she looked Lottie up anddown. She hummed and hawed as her tiny hands with long fingerspicked at Lottie’s body, lifting her arms and cinching herwaist.
“What a finespecimen you are,” the woman croaked as she flipped up the bottomof Lottie’s plain brown skirt and measured the long legsunderneath. “Are you sure you don’t want something in an emerald?”She stood and pushed up the spectacles on her nose. “Or a lovelysapphire blue?”
Lottie’s facetwisted in annoyance. “No, nothing too color–”
“Sapphireblue.” The woman’s bob of grey hair disappeared to the left side ofthe shop like a little rabbit sprinting into the forest.
“No, MadamGuthrie!” Lottie called after her.
“Just trustme, child!”
Her raspyvoice seemed to come from all around the store as it echoed off themany surfaces and I laughed. Lottie turned to me, unamused.
“This littlewitch lady is going to make me look ridiculous.”
“Have a littlefaith,” I told my friend. “I mean, look how she just had theperfect things for Henry, Gus, and Finn. I’m sure she knows how todress you.”
Lottie rolledher eyes and crossed her arms tightly. “Yes, a little too perfect,don’t you think?”
I stole aglance in the general direction that Madam Guthrie had disappearedand stepped closer to Lottie, voice lowered to a whisper. “What doyou mean?”
“I’ve been allover the world with my father,” she spoke quiet and quick. “And never have I ever come across atailor or shop that just happens to have exactly what you want. Orthe measurements you need. It’s just unheard of.”
I let herwords stew in my brain. It was a little too perfect.
“You thinkshe’s really a witch?”
“What of it?”Madam Guthrie spoke as she appeared seemingly out of nowhere, aheap of dark blue silk draped over her shoulder.
Startled, bothLottie and I scrambled for words. The woman let out a loud, raspycackle.
“No, dearies,a witch I am not. More of a collector. A curator of the unusual.Sure, one can step into any tailor and have a garment made just forthem.” She paused and fanned her hand around the space where westood surrounded by mountains of items. “But in my store, theperfect outfit is already waiting.”
“Apologies,Madam, I meant no disrespect.” Lottie blushed as she hung herhead.
“No need forthat,” the woman assured and then yanked the dress from hershoulder. “We have you two pretty little things to dress and verylittle time to do so. I may be a miracle worker and tailor quickly,but I am still human.” She threw Lottie a playful smirk.“Regardless of what some may say.”
Lottie pursedher lips and eyeballed the dress. “I really appreciate you helpingus on such short notice, Madam Guthrie, and I’m sure the dress isbeautiful, but I just don’t–”
“You, dearie,will wear this stunning creation of sapphire and love it. IPromise.” Before Lottie could respond, Madam Guthrie added, “Justomit the pannier and you won’t have to worry about the space youoccupy.”
Lottie heldthe words in her mouth for a moment, wanting so desperately toargue against the dress she clearly thought was far too fancy. Butshe let it go.
“Now, mypregnant brunette. What shall you wear?”
I swallowedhard against the dryness of my
