Céleste kept her focus by sheer willpower. “There are whispers that people are on the hunt for someone of the first estate, someone who lives nearby. My husband did rather well for himself last year, and we managed to procure ourselves some fine clothes.” She motioned to what she was wearing. “That’s proving a foolish bit of vanity to have indulged in.”
She received a look of commiseration, which seemed a good sign. “People are likely to think you’re someone you aren’t.”
“Yes. Would you—could we trade you the clothes we have for something more befitting who we actually are?”
“If I go donning fine togs, though, won’t that turn attention to me?” The woman’s logic was solid.
Fortunately, Céleste was quick on her feet. “I had thought you could make use of the fabric. It could be repurposed to be anything you wish.”
That captured her interest. “What would you be trading, and what would you want in return?”
“A change of clothes for myself, my husband, and our little girl. Whatever pieces you might have that would come near enough to fitting us.”
The woman nodded. “I could manage that.”
“What would you ask in exchange?” Céleste could, in all reality, likely pay the woman for the clothing. But she did not wish to leave behind a trail of anecdotes in which a well-to-do lady in company with a little girl tossed money about.
“One for one,” the woman said. “Your dress for a dress. Your man’s shirt for a shirt.” She motioned with her hands to indicate the rate ought to be applied to everything Céleste had asked for. “But also your cloak. I could get a great deal of use out of the fabric, and that’d do us a lot of good just now.”
Céleste smiled, sincerely and deeply grateful. “Thank you.”
The woman eyed her for a moment. “One of my daughter’s dresses would fit you better than anything of mine, but it’ll be a bit too short.”
Céleste was tall for a woman and wasn’t likely to find anything that fit her perfectly. But that would add to the impression. Those who hadn’t agreat deal made do with whatever they could get. A well-worn dress of serviceable fabric that fit a little ill would add to the impression of want.
In short order, Céleste was divested of her cloak and given a basket of clothing.
“You can step inside the cowshed to change,” the woman said. “I’ll wait out here for the clothes you change out of.”
Céleste waved Aldric over. Not wanting to give him time to say something that gave them away, she spoke as soon as he reached her, using the same working-class voice she had used in talking with the woman. “This kind woman has agreed to exchange our clothes for things that won’t give people the impression we’re finer people than we are.”
It was to his credit that he sorted out so quickly what it was she was attempting to tell him without saying it outright.
He gave the woman a quick, very fleeting smile. Adèle leaned against him, clinging to his shirt and watching this new woman with suspicion.
“We’ll change quickly,” Céleste said.
Aldric followed her, again, without question. They stepped inside the cowshed, and Céleste closed the door behind them. The smell of animals was heavy in the cloying air. Comfort was not, however, their most pressing need at the moment.
“You are going to be very cold without your cloak,” Aldric said.
“And far less conspicuous.” She indicated the plain cloth visible in the basket the woman had handed her. “In these clothes, we will not garner a second glance from most people.”
“It is a brilliant bit of strategy, Céleste.” He watched her with a look of concern that was almost ... sweet. “But I don’t like the idea of you not being warm enough.”
She shrugged. “And I don’t like the idea of being dragged away by an angry mob who hates my family.”
“Some people have the oddest priorities.”
Despite all they were facing and all that had happened, she smiled. And she felt the tiniest glimmer of calm.
“How do you propose we go about changing?” he asked. “I suspect you told the woman that we are married, which is why she didn’t feel the need to offer us privacy from each other.”
“You keep hold of Adèle for now,” Céleste said, “and turn your back. I’ll change as quickly as I can, then we can trade out Adèle’s clothing. I’ll stepout and give the woman my dress and Adèle’s while you stay in here and change. You can give the woman your clothes, then join us at the cart.”
He agreed, and they did precisely that. Though she was indeed cold without her cloak, the dress the woman had provided was warmer than the one Céleste had been wearing. That would help in the cool of the evening. Summer days could be quite warm though. The dress might very well prove uncomfortable while the sun was blaring down on them. Still, beggars were no choosers. She was grateful she had anything that would help keep them all safe.
Adèle was crying softly when Céleste walked with her out of the cowshed to hand over the first of their traded clothing.
