Page 50 of Apple Boy

“The note does not say, but Luca would not invite us to meet in Cheapside if this were some wild goose chase. Cheapside is not a place to linger after dark. I will accompany you both, but beware, and bring but a few coins so as not to be too tempting a challenge for the vagabonds.” Ivon warned as he came to sit with us.

“What plans have you both today?” Adam passed my uncle and me each a cup of tea. I ate my first crumpet in four large bites before I answered. Mrs. Morrow certainly did have a talent for crumpets.

“We are to meet with your tailor for a fitting”, I informed as I buttered a second warm crumpet. “And I am sure we would both enjoy a tour of the city. We have seen naught but the Market Square, the tower and the Dells,” I said.

“Excellent, excellent. Mediean & Moncroix will see you fitted out with all of your needs. I shall insist that they expedite your tailoring for we cannot have you in the same garb when we return to the Great Council tomorrow.” Ivon decided.

“We shall take the carriage, deal with your garments and I shall treat you both to luncheon at one of my clubs, then we can meet Luca. How does that sound?” He took a sip of the steaming brew and let out a sigh.

“Marvelous!” I enthused.

“Hmmm. Now I come to think of it, as we will be in Cheapside, I’m sure I could find us some… entertainments to put hairs on your chests, boys! What do you think about that?” Ivon winked at me. I stared down into my swirling teacup. The crumpets I had just eaten felt like dead weights in my belly. I did not want to refuse Ivon’s kindness, but I also did not want either of us to be dragged around Ivon’s favorite clubs and bordellos.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, my lord.” I looked up from my cup, surprised that Adam had spoken up because ordinarily he seemed to be quite intimidated by my uncle’s extravagant personality.

“Have a girl back home, do you boy? Fret not. What happens in Serein stays in Serein!” Ivon said, tapping his nose and offering Adam a sly wink.

“Oh no, it’s not that. Winter’s my boy, so what need have I for anyone else?“

“Is that right?” Ivon turned to me.

The surety of Adam’s declaration near made me burst into flame with love for him. None of my boyfriends had ever declared that I was his in such a public way, and certainly not with a member of my family present. I am sure my face became as red as a mayberry. My uncle let out a raucous belly laugh then leaned across the table and ruffled my hair affectionately.

“A true Aeling! You didn’t wait long to whet your whistle!”

“Uncle, please!” I said, somewhat embarrassed. I shot Adam a flustered glance, and it was returned with a wide grin that made my heart thud so loudly I thought the whole household would hear. Ivon looked between us and shook his head.

“Ahh, very well, who am I to get in the way of young love!” He said wistfully.

I let out a sigh of relief.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHEAPSIDE

Ivon entered Mediean & Moncroix with us and briefed Mr. Mediean to kit both of us out with all that we needed, and to add the cost to the Aeling account.

My uncle seemed to have the favor of the tailor, because as soon as Ivon left the shop, both Mr. Mediean and Mr. Moncroix looked at us with delighted hunger in their eyes, and then flitted around us like bees around flowers.

Two assistants joined in with the buzzing, and we were shown a book of stunning sketches containing the latest Sereinean fashions from which we could select our decadent new wardrobe.

Adam’s only experience of tailoring was at his mother’s hand because Rosalie made all of his clothing ever since he was a babe. Adam was at first reluctant to make decisions on what he would like to choose from the fashion sketches.

“What about these boots?” I suggested, pointing to a drawing of navy three quarter length boots that displayed ribboned side laces.

“I don’t need no more boots. I liked my old boots.” Adam huffed and then turned the page over to show a spread of yet more drawings of the most delectable garments.

“I just need small clothes, britches, and a few shirts.” He insisted, “I don’t need none o’ that frilly stuff. It would make me look stupit anyways,” he’d complained, the petulant scowl on his face making me ache to kiss him.

He had not enjoyed the preening and fussing as Mr. Moncroix began to measure him up. But I gained much amusement from his flinches, scowls, and discomfiture. Making a gentleman out of my Apple Boy would take a little time, but I was sure I would have fun doing it.

“Sir, I assure you that we will make garments to your very singular specifications.” Mr. Moncroix simpered.

“Your companion is the Count of Skraedig,” he pointed out as if Adam were unaware of whose company he kept, “And you are both very handsome fellows,” he continued, casting his ever observant eyes up and down Adam’s solid masculine form, sizing him up in a glance.

“Yes, very striking,” Mr. Mediean agreed with a rather lascivious drawl. A long measuring ribbon was stretched between his hands, the tailor’s dark eyes mirroring the calculated looks his partner was giving Adam as he stood with his arms outstretched ready to be measured for his shirt.

“I assure you. When word spreads that the Count of Skraedig lives, he is here in Serein AND he has a handsome companion in tow; you will be invited to many, many lavish parties.” Mr. Moncroix speculated.