Page 79 of Disturbing the Dead
“If that word is ‘adorable,’ stop now or suffer the consequences.” I glare at my reflection. “Who the hell am I supposed to be? Glinda the Good Witch? I just need my magic wand to sprinkle fairy dust through Munchkinland, and while I’m at it, maybe I’ll grant Mrs. Wallace a heart. No, a sense of humor.”
“You realize none of that makes any sense to us,” Gray says. “However, while I have wondered about Mrs. Wallace’s lack of humor, I no longer do. Seeing you in that outfit, I am assured a very keen wit lurks behind that dour facade.”
I turn my glare on him. Then I look back at the mirror, where Isla is eyeing me contemplatively.
“I am not certain it is… quite right,” Isla says.
“You think?” I gather layers of skirts. “I look like I’m ready for a freaking communion.”
I’m dressed in white. All white. Except for the very top layer, it’s all underthings, and I could argue on that point, but they’ve been arranged in a way that disguises their true purpose, leaving me in a frothy confection of white linen and silk and lace.
That’s not even the worst of it. My hair has been curled and frozen in place with fixative, and I look like a twelve-year-old who got carried away with a curling iron. A light rub of something on my cheeks and lips makes them rosy red, my lips a perfect cupid’s bow.
“You guys can see she’s mocking me, right?” I say. “How the hell am I supposed to walk down the street like this.”
“You have a point,” Isla murmurs.
“Thank you.”
“You will need to be hidden under a long coat. I have one with a hood. That might—”
“Queen Mab will not take me into the goblin market dressed like a freaking angel.”
Gray frowns and tilts his head. “They might find that intriguing, provided of course that you add a few more eyes and animal heads to properly resemble a biblical angel.”
“More eyes and animal heads might help,” I grumble. “I am not—”
A brief commotion outside the door cuts me off.
“Dr. Gray’s room does not need cleaning,” Mrs. Wallace snaps. “Go.”
A moment later, the door opens and Mrs. Wallace walks in, shaking her head. “That girl.”
“Lorna?” Isla says.
“She will not last, ma’am. I am sorry to say it, but we have no place for a timid mouse like that.”
She cuts off Isla’s response by lifting something in her arms. It’s an overcoat… I think. It looks more like something worn by a medieval minstrel, all strips of varying colors and fabrics. Without a word, she puts it on me. It’s too long and nearly brushes the floor, but the added girth lets it button over my breasts. Mrs. Wallace promptly unbuttons that part and arranges the jacket bodice so that it is otherwise open, showing my white and frothy garments beneath.
I look in the mirror. The effect is interesting. That showy and dramatic jacket with a glimpse of the angelic costuming.
Mrs. Wallace walks up behind me and plops a hat on my head. It’s a low top hat, made of the same multicolored fabric. It seems intentionally small, and she has to fasten it in with pins.
“There,” she says when she’s done.
I look in the mirror. “Huh.”
“Are you done caterwauling now?” she says.
“I am.” I swing around, watching the jacket swing with me, the white peeking out through the half-fastened opening. “You know I have to ask where you got this hat and jacket.”
“From the circus, of course. Now we are going to need Simon to drive us. You cannot walk about like that. Let me dress, and we shall be off.”
Gray joins us in the coach. He isn’t happy about the prospect of leaving me with Queen Mab. At first, he’d only been disappointed that he couldn’t go along. Now, as night falls, he’s concerned about what I’m doing and the fact that I’m not doing it with someone he trusts to have my back. Oh, he trusts Mrs. Wallace. He’s even seen her teaching Isla and me how to use a knife, so he knows she’s capable of defending herself in a dangerous situation. But will she defend me? That is the question, and while I tell him there’s nothing to worry about, I’m lying through my teeth.
If we run into trouble, I have absolutely no expectation of Mrs. Wallace’s help. The most I can hope for is that she won’t use the chaos of a fight to slide a blade between my ribs.
I have Catriona’s switchblade. I also don’t expect to need it. Queen Mab isn’t going to take me any place where I might be shivved and tossed onto a trash heap. That would be bad for business.
