Lily took up her well-worn mantle of sisterly peacekeeper and nudged Margaret in the backside. “We’d better go find Beatrice before she runs off with some sailor.”
“I think it’s Claire we should be worried about, make no mistake.”
Both Lily and Claire pretended not to hear Margaret’s parting remarks—her words were just muffled enough to allow it.
Lily turned back toward Claire in the doorway. “You will be careful, won’t you?”
“I’m going to a teahouse in a fashionable part of town. You lot are the ones wandering around the docks.”
Lily grinned. “True, but there’s strength in numbers.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m only meeting Michael.”
“Have fun.” Lily’s hidden smile quickly turned into a hidden grimace when she glanced out the doorway. “And send the carriage right back around. I don’t like the looks of this neighborhood.”
Lily stepped onto the street and adjusted her gloves as she took in her surroundings. There might have been cobblestones beneath all the squishing muck, but it was impossible to tell. Seagulls cried overhead and two stray dogs squabbled over an unknown something further down the street.
The building that her sisters had disappeared into had once been painted a lovely french blue, but the relentless offensive of brackish air and salt had faded it well past anything that could be called a charming patina. The narrow store was wedged between two dock houses that were far more obvious about their unwelcoming state—they were boarded up.
Lily picked her way across the several steps to the rather derelict front door, grateful for Mabel’s intrepid presence close at her back and the groomsman who took up his post next to the door, one hand hovering over the flintlock pistol hidden beneath his coat, his eyes wary. Lily was not the only one wondering what on earth they were doing at such a place.
When she ducked into the shop, she was pleasantly surprised to find it well lit and clean. Several other patrons—gentlemen, all—perused the tightly stacked shelves. The front of the store had been deceiving. It was much larger than it had appeared—a long, narrow space filled with all sorts of curiosities.
Lily held a knuckle beneath her nose for a moment, adjusting to the aroma of pepper and cardamom. Her eyes flicked over to the shelves behind the register and found the source—spices, some in tins, some in jars, stacked all the way to the ceiling.
The other wall was dominated by books of all shapes and sizes. Lily shook her head, wondering again at the practicality ofhaving a bookstore so close to the ocean. Still, the inside of the shop was warm and dry, owing to the white-and-blue-tiled stove in the corner that suffused heat through the room and belched wood smoke into the pipe threaded through the ceiling. Lily had never seen anything quite like it.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Beatrice said, appearing at Lily’s elbow. She nodded toward the stove. “The shopkeeper brought it back from the Kingdom of Sweden.”
“It’s a very interesting shop—much more than a bookstore. How did you hear about it?”
“Abeer told me. I asked where he got his slippers, you see.”
“Ah.”
Lily was suddenly distracted by the multitude of paper lanterns and kites hanging from the rafters. They were all different shapes and colors. In the corner, an enormous red-and-yellow dragon kite loomed, jaws open, over a fanciful blue butterfly. By the time Lily had recovered enough to ask Beatrice another question, her sister had disappeared.
Lily wandered amongst the colorful wares for the next hour. It was as if all the wonderful detritus of the world had somehow washed up in one place. Here there were beads from India and Africa, tea sets from the Orient, an entire rack of handmade papers for wrapping very special gifts.
Lily finally found Margaret frowning in concentration and flipping through a stack of journals in one aisle. In the next, Beatrice examined delicate porcelain ornaments hanging from a tree branch on satin ribbons. Beatrice’s maid patiently strained under a stack of books behind her.
Lily inclined her head at the girl. “I’m sure the shopkeeper would hold those at the register. Mabel and I will accompany Beatrice until you return.”
The girl gave a grateful nod and headed toward the front of the store.
“I should have thought of that myself,” Beatrice said, blinking after her.
“No matter.” Lily nodded at the ornaments. “These are certainly beautiful. Whatever are they for?”
“I’m not quite sure, but they’re lovely. I was trying to decide if Reginald might enjoy one.”
“Rachel’s bird?” Lily blinked. “You do know that he’s stuffed, right?”
Miss Rachel Warrington was a recent acquaintance of the family who’d quickly become a close friend to Margaret and Beatrice. She was unpredictable and intelligent, a combination that delighted her sisters but made Lily feel a bit wary. Not that Lily didn’t like the young lady—she did—but Lily felt she’d experienced enough adventure that she didn’t need to seek it out in a friend.
“Well of course, but that’s what makes it funny.” Beatrice selected a porcelain swan from the branch and it dangled from her finger. “It’s really a gift for Rachel, but she’ll enjoy it twice as much if I say it’s for Reginald.”
“Then I think it’s a very nice gift, indeed.”
