Bewitching Boots (6 page)

People didn’t realize that the best way to get on at the Village was to become one of the characters already there. People were always leaving—there had been three King Arthurs in the last six months. The weird and exotic wasn’t necessarily what the Village was looking for.

The trio of musicians who were playing at the museum opening were very excited about being there, and the extra money promised them by Adventureland. We talked about the music they’d play.

Each of them had a different stringed instrument—cello, violin, and mandolin. They had a good sound together, and I thought they’d do a wonderful job. I hoped the gig would get them noticed by the management. The trio had no permanent place to play each day. They were moved from courtyard to gazebo to stall all over the Village.

I left them, feeling pleased with their music. I was headed toward the Honey and Herb Shoppe that had been tapped to provide refreshments for the event. Not that I had to worry about what Mrs. Potts, the owner, would do. But she could need help, and I was hoping she might have a few honey cookies fresh from the oven.

Before I could reach her shop, Wanda Le Fey—the resident ghost Bill and I had been talking about—joined me.

Wanda would be forever blue thanks to a packet of dye I’d put in her shower before she died. How did I know someone would be waiting to kill her when she got out? Her bright red hair streamed around her blue face with a life of its own, wind currents that I couldn’t feel, blowing past her.

“Good morning, your ladyship.” She was as British in life as shew as in death. She made an awkward curtsey. It didn’t really matter since her feet didn’t touch the ground.

Did I mention she was also completely naked? I guessed she’d be that way forever too.

“Wanda.”

“What brings you out on this fine morning?”

“I’m working. What have you been up to?” I could see people passing me, staring at me as it appeared that I was talking to myself. Occasionally someone stared at Wanda, and I knew he or she could see her too. They probably wondered if Wanda was real or just an actor playing a floating, naked, blue woman.

“A little of this, and a little of that.” She stretched her smile maliciously. “I frightened an entire group of children visiting from a daycare not five minutes ago. The little tikes ran hither and yon as their guardians tried to stop them. It was quite amusing.”

“I’ll bet it was. Why don’t you try doing
good
things for a change? That might be fun too.”

“Oh Jessie, you know I’m not made that way. I had the best times when I was a nurse here, wrapping bandages too tightly and making injections hurt. It’s who I am. But I’m so much better now.”

“You should hope one of those ghost hunter groups who come through to find you don’t ever come with an exorcist. You might find yourself in a much worse place to haunt.”

She laughed as she lifted her face to the morning sun. “I quite love my death, thank you.” Then she turned her baleful, dead eyes on me. “But you aren’t looking so happy this morning. Trouble in paradise with your Bailiff? I
did
warn you that marriage wouldn’t be as sweet. You didn’t listen. Now every young woman who goes to him for help will look like a way out of the trap you’ve put him in.”

As she spoke, a group of attractive young women went by us in their thin, low-cut summer gowns. They smiled and flicked their parasols, the breezes from the Atlantic wafting through their silky hair.

Wow! Where did that come from?

“I’m not worried about Chase.” I
was
thinking about what he’d said last night. Something was up. How could I not know what it was?

“Perhaps. But it makes sense to me. You’d better watch your step, sweetie. I won’t be there to pick you up when you fall.” She disappeared with a wild cackle of laughter.

I looked around. No one else seemed to hear it. There was a very nicely done gargoyle walking past me. He smiled and saluted, breaking character, but I didn’t hold that against him. His makeup and costume were phenomenal.

The welcoming committee was at the Main Gate, singing and handing out maps of the Village. Robin Hood and a few of his Merry Men were there to help welcome the steady stream of visitors. Fred the Red Dragon was sending up small puffs of smoke, and the Tornado Twins—Diego and Lorenzo—were cracking jokes while they showed off their piglet that wore a skirt and hat. The flower girls smiled and tossed their petals at visitors as they entered.

There were always different people at the gate each morning and evening. The king and queen were insistent on smiling faces, flowers, and music welcoming their arriving and departing guests.

I saw another great costume. This one was a muscular, white-skinned angel with gossamer wings. It looked as though the man had only painted his naked body, with an appropriate white patch. That created a lot of giggling with the flower girls.

Beside him were two men dressed like different versions of Dr. Who. The Village had become increasingly more steampunk in the last few years. I’d seen visitors dressed as the Tardifs. I didn’t expect Dr. Who clones to make the cut, but I saw several steampunk characters with goggles and astrolabes coming in that might be interesting. This was an open casting call so anyone or anything could walk through the gate.

I could only tell the difference between the visitors and the actors trying out for parts because the actors wore red badges identifying themselves. Each actor also had a number on his badge for ease in scoring them.

Mrs. Potts was boxing up her fresh cookies and fruit bread when I arrived. She was wearing her usual bright blue dress and white mobcap, her ruddy face smiling. “Come in, Lady Jessie. Perhaps you can help me get all of this to the museum. That silly boy I hired seems to have overslept.”

The sunshine streamed in from the windows creating a pleasant place to visit. Mrs. Potts never had to do much to have a roomful of visitors each day. I helped her box everything including real china teacups, saucers, and spoons.

“How is the new exhibit coming along?” she asked as we started across the street to the museum. “I’m so excited to be catering this event. No one ever thinks to ask me. They go to the King’s Tarts or Bawdy Betty’s Bagels. I’m sure everyone will be pleased with my treats.”

“I know you’re right.” I bit into a cookie and rolled my eyes. “Everyone will want you to cater their special events after today. Your honey cookies are to die for.”

“Speaking about dying—terrible news about Isabelle—though she probably deserved her untimely demise.”

“I suppose so.”

“And what of the shoemaker? Did he really kill her with magic shoes?”

“I don’t think so. Bill is very nice and especially gifted. I think he fell in love with Princess Isabelle when he first met her. She was really nice to him too. I was surprised. I thought maybe they could have something, but then she died.”

Mrs. Potts cleared her throat and adjusted her cap. She was probably in her sixties, but her portly body moved quickly as she avoided dozens of people on tall bicycles. “He goes
that
way, does he?” she asked in a slightly irritated tone.

“What do you mean?”

“I was hoping—since I knew he was an older gentleman—that he might be someone who could be interested in a well-preserved woman like myself. But if he’s already sniffing at the young ones, there’s no hope for me.”

We were both a little out of breath by the time we’d made it through the growing crowd and climbed the museum stairs. I knew Mrs. Potts, despite her name, had never been married. “Bill is probably overwhelmed right now. You know how the Village does that to people. Who knows what he’s really like?”

I realized that Mrs. Potts clearly needed my help. I was without a doubt the best matchmaker in the Village. Daisy and Bart were part of my legacy, as were Roger Trent from the Glass Gryphon and Mary Shift, the Gullah basket weaver from Wicked Weaves. Not to mention Daisy and Bart. I was sure I could help Mrs. Potts too. “Maybe you’re right, Jessie.” She studied me kindly as she regained her breath. “I hear you and Chase are having a few problems. It’s not unusual when you’re approaching your first year anniversary, you know.”

Renaissance Village was a spectacular place to live and work, but it was a hotbed of gossip—some true and some not so true. Something was going on. I wasn’t sure what yet, but rumors started from some small occurrences sometimes. I didn’t like the idea that people were talking about Chase and me breaking up. I had to nip that rumor in the bud.

Yet I had to consider that Chase knew
something
about what was going on after last night’s discussion.

“Chase and I are very happy together,” I finally said. “I don’t know what happened that caused this gossip, but it’s all wrong. We’re fine—outside of him taking his job too seriously maybe.”

Mrs. Potts took my hand in her soft white one. “Do you think it’s because he needs some time to himself away from home?”

“No! I don’t think that. Chase has always been this way. You know what I’m talking about. He doesn’t think anyone can do his job except him.”

She sighed. “Denying a problem is not the way to solve it, Jessie. That’s all I’m saying.”

Argh!
It was stupid to try to undo the rumor mill. I knew better. I’d only make it worse if I kept defending us. I was going to have to tough it out until something new and exciting caught everyone’s fancy.

“Thank you, Mrs. Potts.” I hoped everything was set up as our first visitors of the day began creeping in. “I appreciate you doing this today.”

She smiled and glanced away. I knew what she was thinking. I wished I knew
why
she was thinking it.

First Wanda and then Mrs. Potts. The whole Village thought Chase and I were about to split up. It was irritating since there was no truth to it. It wouldn’t be easy to get everyone to stop talking about it either. I’d just have to ignore it. But that was easier to say than do.

I almost ran into Manny as I headed toward Bill’s work area. He had an alarmed expression on his face that had nothing to do with our near collision.

He grasped my hand in his. “Are you and the Bailiff splitting up?”

“Who told you that?”

“It was Lady Godiva as I walked past the gate this morning. I am so sorry about your marriage. I thought the two of you were perfect for one another.” He squeezed my hand, his eyes filled with sympathy.

“It’s not true. It’s been misinterpreted, Manny. You know how these things happen here. Someone probably saw Chase with another woman and decided he was doing something he shouldn’t. The next thing you know, our marriage is on the rocks.”

He bowed deeply, a sign of respect. “Whatever you say, Lady Jessie. You know that I am
always
here for you.”

I’d said all I was going to say until I could talk to Chase and figure out what had started this snowball rolling. “At least one of us needs to stay here with Bill’s work all the time. We’re going to say that he was called away. Don’t get into any speculation about what happened to Isabelle.”

* * *

Crowds of visitors flocked to the museum. Manny and I were barely prepared for them. Some of the potential new actors came too. There were fauns, satyrs, Greek gods, and some really tall dwarfs. Manny and I laughed at a few of them as we marked our impressions in the little book.

“I don’t think Lord Maximus is going to like a man walking around the Village with his own eagle.” Manny made a note of it. “And there are so many princesses. I don’t believe there is room for all of them.”

I agreed. “I liked some of the animal characters, like the half-lion man. His costume was amazing.”

“I enjoyed the butterfly woman. She was very graceful and colorful. I would certainly recommend her.”

Several Lady Godivas, and a few
Lord
Godivas, passed us as we welcomed everyone at the door. Their full-bodysuits ranged from massively covering them to barely decent. I saw a few older visitors blushing at some of the costumes and hurrying away.

They wouldn’t make the cut. This wasn’t
that
kind of Village!

It turned out to be a beautiful day. The weather was a little cooler after the recent storm. Even the humidity wasn’t as bad. There had been several hurricane scares since June when the season began, but no one had left the Village because of them.

A dozen steampunk gentlemen and their ladies filed into the museum. Their costumes were perfect—a blend of Victorian history and science fiction. They were disappointed when Bill wasn’t there to make new shoes and boots for them. Not surprisingly, the rumor of his elf magic had started getting around. Who wouldn’t want magic boots?

Some of the ladies and a few gentlemen settled for boots that Bill had already made. I knew he’d be pleased to see that he’d made some money that day. I hoped he’d be back soon with Chase, and that his confession about killing Isabelle would be in the past.

The new owner of the Lady in the Lake Tavern paid us a visit. I wished I could leave for a while and come back again when she was gone, but I hated to leave Manny with the crowd and no shoemaker.

Tilly Morgenstern had taken over the old Lady of the Lake Tavern after her sister, Ginny Stewart, had gone to prison. Tilly held me responsible for that event, and she’d made it clear since she’d arrived that she hated me and wanted to do something awful to me.

It had been a year since she’d arrived and nothing much had happened—except for a few threats and uncomfortable encounters between us. I had avoided that area of the Village since she’d come. I was surprised that she’d visit the museum when she knew that I was the director.

“There she is, now.” Tilly’s voice had the quality of a small child’s. Her laughter was infectious. Many people found themselves laughing over something almost against their will and wondering later why they’d laughed at all.

Her thick white hair hung down to her waist in curls while her face was a crooked road map of wrinkles around her hard, dark eyes. “Just the woman I was hoping to see today. Good afternoon to you, Lady Jessie.”