Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(60)

Before leaving, I make sure to ring for Amelie and tell her where I’m going. I also leave a note in Edward’s bedroom, just in case, and place a glass paperweight over the note. I sneak a glance at his bed—it’s huge, with a dark velvet bedspread, and two fat pillows. With a pang, I wonder when I can share his bed.

Traffic is perpetually congested downtown, so I tell Bertram to park the carriage on a side street off the main road and head to The Bookworm on foot.

“Violets, lady? Sweet violets, just for a penny a bunch!”

A young girl, dressed in a ragged shawl and a tattered dress, carries a basket filled with purple sprays. What’s more, her face looks familiar.

“Molly?”

“You know Molly, lady?” the girl says, her eyes wide. “How could Molly know a fine lady like yer?”

On a closer look, I realize that the girl isn’t Molly, but the resemblance is striking. If she could clean up, wash her face thoroughly and put on decent clothes, she could be quite pretty with her small face and delicate features.

She’s still looking at me with incredulity. Given the number of people in this country and that there’s no Internet, it’s possible that many people have never seen my picture in the paper or stood in the crowd when I was in that carriage ride during the wedding day.

“Did Molly never mention my name? I’m Kat. Katriona Bradshaw.”

She gasps and tries to curtsy, but I stop her. My motto is to do away with formalities whenever possible.

“You’re the princess! Oh Lord, I never realized it! Forgive me, I didn’t know who you are!”

“That’s okay, don’t worry about it.” I study her face. I know I have seen her before, and if she’s related to Molly, then . . .

Click.

“Nell,” I say quietly. “You’re Nell.” The girl who got pregnant in her early teens and had her picture in the paper. Now that I’ve seen her in person, she looks even younger than I remembered.

“How d’ya know me? Oh! Molly must have told ya.” She gestures to another small figure who is haggling with a well-dressed couple. The gentleman finally purchases a bunch for the lady, and Molly heads in our direction. She does a double-take when she sees me.

“What’re ya doin’ here?”

I jerk a finger toward The Bookworm. “Your father made you and your sister sell flowers in the streets after he took you out of school?”

She shrugs. “Couldn’t afford to go anymore. I know the headmistress sponsored us and all, but we’ve got a livin’ ter make, ya know.” She looks pointedly at Nell. “There’s three of us, now, and we need ter survive this winter.”

I have a suspicion who the third member is, judging from the uncomfortable expression on Nell’s face. I don’t see any sign of an infant, though. Never mind. Mr. Wellesley probably knows.

“I’ll buy the whole lot,” I say. “How much is it?”

A hopeful look springs into Nell’s eyes, but Molly catches her arm and shakes her head.

“Don’t pay for the entire basket, Princess,” she says. “The other girls won’t like it. They’ll make hell for us if you show favor.”

It is then that I notice several other girls clustered at a nearby building. They also look poor and dirty, but there is a sullen, almost savage, look in their faces. It seems as though, if were we not in a crowded street, they would have jumped on me and ripped off everything I’m wearing of value, from my pearl hairnet to the beaded slippers on my feet. Apparently, not all poor girls are helpless waifs.

“Three bunches,” I say, lifting my chin. “Three bunches of the biggest, choicest violets you have.”

“That’ll be three pennies.”

“Thank you.” I haven’t had much opportunity to deal with Athenian currency, but Edward made sure I could recognize the difference between a penny, a shilling, and a crown. When Molly passes me the flowers, I slip three coins plus an extra shilling into her palm.

“Don’t let them see,” I whisper.

Without a backward glance, I head to The Bookworm. I’ll have to give Mr. Wellesley some of the violets, because I sure can’t carry them all back to the palace with me. And the number one thing I don't lack in my rooms is flowers.

The shop is the same as I remembered—crooked sign, piles of books, and a magazine stand near the entrance. An old man wearing glasses and a large green apron is arranging books near the magazine stand. On a small table, there’s a pile of hardbacks titled, The Woman in Red, in a Halloween-style font. The book must be a bestseller to deserve its own space.

“Mr. Wellesley!” I call to him, smiling. He has always been kind to me, though his teasing can be annoying sometimes.

“My favorite lassie!” Mr. Wellesley greets me with a broad grin. “Or should I say . . . our new princess? You haven’t been down to see us for a while. I thought you might be expecting a new addition to the family.”

“Just busy with official princess stuff.” Like I could mention my memory loss. I look for Billy, but then I realize that he’s at school now. He doesn’t need to work for Mr. Wellesley anymore.

“I met Molly and her sister, Nell, outside. They’re selling flowers.”

Instantly, the sly grin disappears from his face. “I supposed you would run into them sooner or later.”