I chewed at mybottom lip. “And the wedding will be outside, so it can’t be toothin!”
“Of course!”her voice rang back, further away now.
Unsure, Iturned to Lottie, chewing at the nail of my thumb.
“See?” shesaid and raised her brow as the word witch mouthedsilently.
I laughed witha sigh, brushing her off.
“Seriously,”she said just above a whisper and nodded toward the little tablewith the teapot where two emptycups sat. Waiting. “She knew we were coming.”
“Don’t beridiculous,” I told her.
We heard thesound of Madam Guthrie shuffling her way back to the front of theshop then and we turned to meet her. The old woman emerged from theback of the store with a long, thin garment draped over her arms.The fabric seemed to be a mix of silk and some sort of sheer. Itwasn’t white, but a subtle grey. Like fog over the ocean, early inthe morning. A light dusting of clear gems sprinkled down over thefabric, catching the sunlight like freshly fallen snow. I admiredthe way the waist cinched just under the breast, and the longsleeves it offered. But most of all, I loved that is didn’t have acorset.
“MadamGuthrie,” I said in total awe. “Wherever did you find somethinglike this?” I knew it was out of place, not of this time. Women inthe 1700s coveted their poofy dresses, heaps of fabric, and tightlypacked corsets. This… this was something I would have wore in mytime.
The woman gaveme a cheeky grin. “I made it.”
“What?” Isaid, confused.
“I had avision for this dress, many years ago,” she explained. “I knew noone would buy it but, still, my hands begged to create the curseddress. I’ve held on to this ol’ thing for nearly twenty-sevenyears. Just waiting for the perfect woman to grace me with herpresence and wear it beautifully. You’ll do just fine, Iimagine.”
I tried not tothink of the odd timing. How this lady had the sudden creative urgeto make such a dress as many years ago as I was old. It didn’t makesense, anyway. Unless time existed in a way we had no means ofgrasping. That the layers of our world weren’t, in fact, neatlystacked and strung along in a train-like formation. Past, present,and the future. Perhaps…everything existed at once, in some form or another. Connected inan unearthly way. The future affecting the past just as much as ouractions trickled into the days ahead.
I still staredat the dress in awe. “Well, it’s… it’s perfect,” I said. “More thanperfect. I’ll take it.”
“Let meguess,” Lottie chimed in with a bratty grin. “No need to try it on?It’s just the right fit?”
Madam Guthriechallenged her expression. “But of course. I wouldn’t present it ifI knew it wouldn’t.” She moved her hand under the fabric, and itshimmered in the light. “It may be old, but I kept it well.”
Lottie jut herjaw back and forth as she crossed her arms. “Uh huh, sure.”
I flashed hera be nice look and she released her arms to fall at hersides as she smiled at Madam Guthrie. “I apologize, Madam. I meantno offense.”
“Yes, youdid,” the old woman replied but Lottie’s words only seemed to amuseher. “Think what you will of me–” she paused as she failed to hidea smirk, “Charlotte Roberts.”
We gasped atthe use of Lottie’s full name, a name we did not tell the shopowner.
Madam Guthrieshrugged nonchalantly, and her mouth turned down in a carefree wayas she regarded Lottie up and down. “Perhaps I’m a witch. Perhapsnot. But I am good at what I do. It’s a gift not bestowed toothers.”
Lottie’scheeks turned crimson in embarrassment. “I really am sorry.”
The womanturned and carefully lowered my wedding dress into an open box justbig enough to fit it. “That’s quite alright, dearie. Just be sureto come back to me when your wedding day comes.”
Lottie laughedand shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m not–”
Madam Guthrieplaced a wrinkled hand over Lottie’s arm and peered up at her fromthe tiny spectacles that balanced on her nose. “I have just thedress for you.”
It was a showof acceptance to Lottie’s apology. But what else could my carelessfriend do but smile and nod? She knew as well as I did that, deepdown, marriage was something she wanted. With Gus. But that was astory for another time. For today was my big day. I had awedding to get ready for and the man of my dreams waiting forme.
ChapterNine
After we left Madam Guthrie’s, leaving my perfect gownin the capable hands of our driver, we piddled around in the lowersection of Market Square. Lottie left me to go grab a few thingsshe said she needed, and I wandered through the smaller shopfronts, looking for something of my own. Henry needed a ring, too,and I was determined to find something that matched him as perfectas his mother’s ring did me. I found a small merchant tent thatsold an array of tiny objects. All forged from metals. Trinkets andtools, utensils and belt buckles.
“Your thingsare beautiful,” I told the merchant. A tall and lanky woman withmessy red hair she attempted to tuck back into a bun.
“Thank ye,”she replied kindly. “Me husbandmakes it all. He’s a blacksmith.”
“Do you happento have a ring?” I asked her. “Fit for a man?”
“Rings?” Shelooked puzzled.
“Yes, I’mgetting married and my husband-to-be needs something that can keepup with his… lifestyle.” The corner of my mouth twitched with thehint of a grin, thinking of Henry swinging a sword against thekraken. Climbing the side of theship. His strong hands flinging thick ropes. He needed a piece ofjewelry fit for a titan.
The merchantlady appeared hopeless as she searched over the table ofhand-forged items. “Nae, Miss. I’m sorry, but I dinnae have a ringsuitable for a weddin’.”
Disappointed,I gave her a friendly smile and nod before turning away.
“Wait! Miss!”she called after me.
I spun on myheels and took the few steps back to her table.
“I dinnae havea fancy ring,” she began and then pulled a small jewelry box upfrom underneath the table. “But I do have these. Mismatchedtrinkets, jewelry with flaws that none buy. I dinnae ken ifanythin’ will work but yer more than welcome
