Harrowing Hats (8 page)

When that was over, I scooted past the Romeo and Juliet pavilion, where that couple was talking to a good-sized crowd. I went past the Hands of Time clock shop, thinking that might make an interesting apprenticeship. I’d have to remember to put in for it. No doubt it was somewhere on my list already.

The Lovely Laundry Ladies were shouting out bawdy insults to the crowd that passed them, moving slowly across the King’s Highway. They must’ve already washed a lot of clothes at the Village well since they were soaked. Probably felt good in the heat.

Pat Snyder, playing William Shakespeare, was quoting odes to the pretty girls who went past his pavilion behind the Glass Gryphon and Sir Latte’s Beanery.

It took me almost twenty minutes to reach the King’s Tarts Pie Shop. Maybe Adventure Land was worried about fewer visitors, but if numbers were down, I couldn’t tell. People in Renaissance garb were crushed in, with visitors wearing bikini tops and short shorts who rubbed elbows with fairies, trolls, and a goblin or two.

I looked at Brewster’s, next to the tart shop, with longing, already sorry I didn’t get another tankard of ale after abandoning mine when Grigg’s lips touched it. I promised myself a frozen lemonade from one of the traveling carts after talking to Eloise.

The pie shop was busy, large groups of men—all ages, from knaves to knights—trying to get close to one of the women. Apparently, Eloise, Belle, and Angela had also received the Village notice to wear their blouses cut lower. I swear, they left very little to the imagination.

Cherry pie seemed to be the tart of the day. Belle and Angela passed out their wares while Eloise took the money. She looked flushed from the heat but not at all grieving over Cesar’s death. If there was something going on between them, she had to be over it already.

I had to wait until the crowd thinned out after King Arthur pulled the sword from the stone. Besides low-cut blouses and pie, the men in the shop seemed to also be drawn to shiny metal objects.

Eloise collapsed into a chair behind the counter while Angela and Belle cleaned up. She was the eldest of the tarts, probably in her midthirties. It was easy to tell who the boss was—she and Cesar would’ve made a good pair.

“Hi!” I approached her with a smile and a jaunty attitude. “Your visitor numbers don’t seem to be down.”

“Hi, Jenny.” Eloise pulled out a fan and began wafting warm air at her face. “How’s Chase?”

“Jessie, actually.” I kept smiling. What did I expect? “Chase is fine. He wanted me to pick up some pie. Too bad he hates cherry pie. He wanted blueberry. You know how it is.”

“I think he’d like
my
cherry pie, if he’d come himself,” Eloise goaded me further. “I guess you don’t let him stray too far when you’re here. Lucky for him you go back to school in the fall.”

I reminded myself that I didn’t come here to exchange insults with her. Just the opposite. I gritted my teeth. She was supposed to cry on my shoulder and tell me everything. I had to start over.

“That was a terrible thing that happened to Cesar.”

“Yes, it was. He was a lovely man. I’ve never seen anyone wield a sword the way he could. I miss him already.”

“But I thought you were dating Andre.” I watched her carefully for any sign of discomfort.

She kept fanning. “Andre?”

“Andre Hariot, at the Hat House. I heard you were seeing him.”

“I see a lot of people. Just because I miss Cesar doesn’t mean I’m going to hide in a nunnery or something. Even if this was a real Renaissance village, I wouldn’t be that kind of girl.”

“So you don’t know anything about Andre and Cesar fighting over you?”

She leaned forward, her bosom straining her blouse, her long hair falling forward. “
Everyone
fights over me, Jessie. That’s who I am. I can’t keep them from wanting me. You know how it is. Or maybe you don’t.”

This conversation seemed to be leading nowhere. There was just one more thing. “What about you, Eloise? Ever get jealous or fight over a man?”

Her face was shuttered as she sat back and put her fan away. “I’m sorry, I can’t talk anymore. I have to get back to work. Tell Chase I’ll bake him a blueberry pie and bring it over to comfort him—after you leave the Village.”

I walked out of the shop with my hands clenched. Too bad someone didn’t kill her instead.

I
forgave myself that uncharitable thought as I sat on an elephant-shaped bench drinking a frozen lemonade near a fountain. Talking to Eloise hadn’t been what I expected, but I had learned something—it was possible she could have been responsible for Cesar’s death.

“I don’t think so.” Chase didn’t agree with my theory when we met up outside the Hat House awhile later. “Even if she wasn’t overcome with grief, that doesn’t mean she killed him.”

“But think about it. She’s only a few doors down. She looks strong enough to hit him in the head and hold him in the chocolate. We all know Cesar never took his ladies too seriously. What if she got jealous?”

“I think your conversation with her proves she’s not the jealous type. She dates a lot of men. Why suddenly get jealous about Cesar?”

“I don’t know. But she looked suspicious when I mentioned it.”

“That’s not much of a reason.”

“How about that she told me she’d bring you blueberry pie after I go back to school? I really don’t like her.”

He laughed and hugged me. “I don’t even like pie. It’s too—doughy. I take it she didn’t want to have girl talk, huh?”

“Not really. How’d it go with Andre?”

“About the same. He says he barely knew Cesar and would certainly like to be with Eloise. But that goes for most of the men in the Village. Maybe we should trade suspects.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “But I better not see any cherry pie on you when you get back.”

We parted company again until dinner, this time more carefully so that no visitors were watching. Normally I enjoyed living my whole life in the Village like I was on stage. It only bothered me once in a while.

Livy and her groupies were gone when I got back to the Hat House. No doubt everyone in the Village had found out Livy was pregnant while I was questioning Eloise. It was definitely unexpected.

I hoped King Harold was happy with the news. I hoped it was his baby. He and Livy were notorious for their many love affairs. As far as I knew, there had never been any children. This could be a life-changing event for both of them.

I sneaked in and joined the group working on hats like I had been there the whole time. Andre was busy cutting out patterns and kind of looked up but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t long before I was cutting ribbon with the rest of them.

We were working on thirty hats with wide brims and flowers that would be worn by a group of musicians visiting the Merry Mynstrel’s Stage. A flute and harp group would add their music to some of the regulars in the Village. I kind of wondered at their choice of hats. It seemed to me like the brims would be in the way if you were trying to read music and play a flute.

The hats were all natural straw. We were adding ribbon and flowers, tacking them in place. It was easy work compared to some of my other apprenticeships. I knew I wasn’t learning in-depth hat-making skills, but I hoped that would come later.

I looked up when I saw Andre put down his scissors and go sit in a corner by himself. I watched him stare blankly out the window for a few minutes before deciding that this was my chance to speak to him. Maybe I could learn something Chase hadn’t.

“I’m sorry I was running a little late from lunch,” I began what I hoped would be an informative conversation.

“That’s fine.” He waved his diminutive hand that was holding a lacy handkerchief. “It doesn’t matter. None of it really matters anymore.”

“Is something wrong? Is there anything I can do?”

He looked at me and laughed in a melancholy way. “Maybe if you’d made that offer long ago, there might have been something. But that would be saying you had a magic wand and could fix everything in my life.”

“Sorry. I don’t have that. But I’m a good listener. I was just talking to Eloise—”

The transformation was instantaneous. Andre went from unhappy to alert and smiling. “You were? And how is she? A lovely woman. Did you notice her skin? Like pale, creamy cocoa. And her eyes—like shining brown diamonds. How is she doing today?”

I guess that answered the question about Andre being in love with Eloise. “She seemed fine. I thought she might be upset about Cesar’s death. I’d heard they were close. Maybe dating.”

He made a spitting sound, but I didn’t see any actual saliva. He got to his feet and paced the best he could around hat boxes and yards of satin. “They were
never
dating! Cesar fancied himself such a great lover. But I’ve had Eloise’s heart for a long time. She loves me. Cesar was never her choice.”

So what Grigg said was true. Both men were in love—or at least in lust—with Eloise.

“Do you think Eloise could have killed Cesar?” No point in beating around the bush.

He became outraged. “I’m glad I don’t have my scissors with me, young woman. Those could be fighting words. It’s as ridiculous as asking if
I
killed him.”

“Did you?”

“You’re only asking because his half-brain brothers think I killed him to gain the hand of the beautiful Eloise. What they don’t understand is that she loves me and could never stand Cesar. No need for me to kill him.” He seemed to remember who he was speaking to and shrugged. “Not that I would have anyway.”

“Of course not.” I believed him. Again, common sense seemed in his corner. I couldn’t imagine him doing anything remotely violent. He fainted at the sight of Bernardo and Marco’s swords. That was in his favor, as far as I was concerned. It was easier (and more fun) for me to imagine Eloise killing Cesar.

There didn’t seem to be much more to say. I started to turn away and rejoin the hat-decorating group when Andre stopped me. “I have an errand for you to run, Jessie. I hope you don’t mind. I’ve finished one of Queen Olivia’s hats and thought it might cheer her up to take a look at it. Did I ever tell you about when I was on the set of
Xanadu
with Olivia Newton John? Such a wonderful young woman. Such delicate features. It didn’t matter what you put on her. It looked good.”

While he was telling me his story, he was also putting a large, rose-covered hatbox in my hands. He finished telling me about his run-in with John Travolta, then kind of patted me on the head and sent me on my way to the castle.

It was hotter outside and dark clouds were threatening rain. I hoped the hatbox could protect the hat inside if it got wet. Having a squishy, ruined hat wouldn’t make Livy feel any better.

I was surprised to find my very large friend, Bart Van Impe, headed in the same direction. I hadn’t seen him since I got to the Village this summer. He’d traded his formal garb as one of the queen’s protectors for a simple shopkeeper’s outfit. It suited him.

“Hello, fair lady,” he greeted me. “I haven’t seen you for a while. Did you just get here?”

“I’ve been here a few days, kind sir. How goes the sword business?”

“Very well.” He held up a long, narrow box that looked small in his large hand. “You see? Daisy and I finished a new sword for the king. He’s going to love it. Perfect balance!”

“I have a hat for the queen,” I told him. “Maybe we should trade. Can I see?”

His heavy features puckered up and he rubbed his chin. “I think you could do that. But don’t tell anyone or it could be off with my head.”

“I won’t tell anyone. Let’s duck into one of the alleys between the houses at Squire’s Lane and take a look. You can see Livy’s hat, if you want.”

“Sure. But I’m with you. I’d rather have the sword.”

We showed each other what we carried. The sword was amazing. The balance and weight of it was fantastic. It also had little rubies in the hilt. I had definite sword envy.

The hat, on the other hand, was different. It was a very nice white silk hat, lots of red roses and white silk trailing down from it.

Bart and I both shrugged and closed the hatbox again so we could admire the sword together. That got old after a few swishes, too.

“Have you heard the news?” he asked me as we started walking toward the castle again.

This was my chance to share a little gossip. “I heard that Livy got some news today.”

“So it’s true! The queen is pregnant.”

“How did you hear?” I don’t know why I bothered asking. The whole Village must know by now.

“I don’t remember. I’ve heard it so many times.” He shrugged his massive shoulders and laughed. “It’s good news, right? A baby is a good thing.”

It was hard to realize, looking at Bart, that he had the soul of a butterfly. He might be a giant in stature but he was like a little boy in his heart.

“A baby is a good thing,” I agreed. “I hope Livy thinks so, too.”