pulled off his cap, and shifted uneasily on his feet; and then, blushing bright red, he backed his way to the door.
“I'll be leavin’ yer, Mags, until a better time, beggin’ yer pardon, miss,” he said, and felt behind him for the latch.
“You'll be leavin’ me for good, Joe Smollet—and good riddance to ye,” Maggie shot back, lifting high her youngest, the baby Jack. “If I could count the days you've promised me that length o’ silk, as you knows I've a need fer, and taken your bit o’ cuddle—”
“I've got that silk right outside, I have, all done up in paper, like,” Joe protested, halfway to the street
A calculating look o'erspread the slattern's features. “‘Ere now, Joe, don't be so asty,” she called. “You just leave that parcel ‘ere, so's it don't go wanderin’ with the first cove as passes by, and I'll tend to you proper, I will.”
Joe shot me a glance of embarrassment, but was nonetheless unequal to the force of Maggie's charms. He ducked back inside to deposit something wrapped in heavy brown paper in the entryway. “See you, Mags,” he said, with a sheepish nod for me, and thankfully pulled-to the door to the street
“‘E's not a bad sort, is Joe.” Maggie swooped down upon the package and shoved it under a truckle bed that sagged in one corner, its covers askew. “Woman's gotta live, don't she, and all these mouths to feed?”
“Indeed,” I said. “A length of silk should go far in filling your children's stomachs.”
“S'not like I'm a-goin’ to wear it.” She sat back on her heels, face black with mistrust
“You would sell it, then?” I enquired, as suddenly enlightened.
“Joo interested?”
Here was an opening to goodwill, indeed. I surveyed the widow's countenance and considered what I could afford. “I should like to see your silk, Mrs. Tibbit”
The package was swiftly drawn forth, somewhat dusty from its brief repose beneath the bed, and the fastenings undone for my benefit. Maggie pulled out a quantity of glorious stuff, of a peach-coloured hue much like Eliza's silk, and but wanting a feathered turban to complete the effect. I felt my heart lurch—what a thing it should be, to own such a gown!
“And the usual price of Mr. Smollet's goods …?” I enquired.
Maggie smiled, and then, as if recollecting her poor teeth, raised a hand to her lips. “That's rare stuff, that is.”
“I could find as good in the shops of Pound Street.”
“Not for what I'll charge ye.”
“Which would be?” I looked at her over the fabric's edge.
“Five guineas.”
I thrust the stuff in her arms and picked up my reticule. “Ridiculous. I am no fool, Mrs. Tibbit, and should never pay for the privilege of acting like one.”
“Three, then, and that's my final offer,” Maggie said without a second thought.
I measured out the silk according to the span of my arms, and found it to be roughly fifteen yards; enough for a gown with a ravishing train, the very essence of elegant attire. With Eliza's suggestions as to cut and fashion, it should all but make my winter balls—and I knew as well as Maggie that three guineas was but a fraction of what I should pay at Mr. Milsop's, for silk more legitimately won. If my conscience was besieged at this notion, I comforted myself with another thought—three guineas should go far in feeding the little Tibbits, if the sum survived their mother's fondness for the botde.
“Done at three guineas,” I said, arranging the silk in careful folds, “if you will tell me how you came by this stuff.”
Her eyes shifted, and she snatched back the fabric. “‘ad it off'uv Joe, same's you saw yersel.”
“And he had it for services rendered, I imagine, to the Reverend himself.”
The effect of my words was extraordinary, and beyond my expectations. Maggie Tibbit all but collapsed upon the bed, my precious peach stuff crushed in her hands, and began to shake in an alarming fashion.
“Mrs. Tibbit!” I cried. “I fear you are unwell!”
She gestured desperately beyond me, at a loss for words.
I whirled about, and espied the brandy botde still open upon the setde, and fetched it to her side. Several swigs having been consumed by the woman, she recovered her senses enough to fix upon me baleful eyes, and say with authority, “We never mentions that Reverend's name in this Ouse.”
“But he is known to you?” I crouched down at her feet, the better to fix her gaze.
“Hah!” she ejaculated. “As if the Reverend'd be known to the likes