Devonshire Scream (A Tea Shop Mystery #17)

Theodosia offered him a winning smile. “We know. We’re good friends of Sabrina and Luke.”


The security man touched a hand to the velvet rope that stretched across the pier, blocking their passage. “In that case, you folks probably have an invitation?”

“Not exactly,” Theodosia said.

“Are your names on the guest list?”

“We just thought we’d drop in and say a quick hello,” Theodosia said.

“Or a quick good-bye,” Drayton added with a hopeful note. “Since we know that Sabrina and Luke are leaving tomorrow.”

“For South America,” Theodosia said.

The behemoth simply shook his head. “Sorry,” he growled. “If you’re not on the list, I can’t let you by.”

“Really?” Theodosia said in a slightly wheedling tone.

“I don’t make the rules,” the security guard said.

“Sheesh,” Theodosia said. They turned and headed slowly back down the dock. “I’m disappointed. And what’s with that velvet-rope crap?”

“Pretentious,” Drayton said. “Just like the old Studio 54.”

Theodosia turned to look at him sharply. “What do you know about that place?”

Drayton gave a shrug. “I wasn’t always so buttoned-up. And I did reside in New York for a time.”

Theodosia grinned. “Well . . . Drayton.”





25




Theodosia wasn’t exactly in the mood to try on dresses. But Delaine had been so insistent about it the other day that her defenses had pretty much crumbled. So here she was, on a cool, slightly overcast Saturday morning, standing outside Cotton Duck, hoping like crazy that Delaine wasn’t inside to harangue her and make the process even more painful.

“Hello,” Theodosia called out as she entered the boutique. “Anybody here?”

“I’ll be right with you,” a voice called back.

Good, Theodosia thought as she recognized the voice. Janine, Delaine’s overworked, overstressed assistant, was here. But it would appear that Delaine wasn’t. So, blessed be, there’d be no nagging, rolling of eyes, or overwrought hysterics.

Theodosia couldn’t help smiling as she gazed around the sparking jewel box of a shop and slowly fell under its spell. Racks of long gowns hung next to circular racks jammed with silk tops and suede slacks. Peekaboo camisoles and demi bras were nestled in satin boxes that sat on antique highboys. Strands of opera pearls mingled with gold necklaces, turquoise and coral pendants, and clover necklaces made of gold and mother-of-pearl. Glass shelves displayed reptile and supple leather handbags. Even though Theodosia wasn’t a dyed-in-the-wool fashionista, she found it all wonderfully enticing.

“Janine?” Theodosia called out as she perused a rack of leather bomber jackets. “It’s me, Theodosia.” She reached out and touched one. It was soft as butter. “I think Delaine pulled some dresses for me to try on?”

Thirty seconds later, Janine came huffing toward her.

“Yes, yes,” Janine said. She was red faced and always seemed to be in a perpetual state of distress. “Delaine phoned me first thing this morning and gave strict instructions to put the dresses in a fitting room for you.”

“Great,” Theodosia said, not really meaning it.

“Three cocktail dresses, right?”

Theodosia shrugged. “I guess.”

Janine smiled warmly at her. “Must be nice to get all dressed up and go to fancy parties.” Janine was short, slightly stooped, and had wavy brown hair and large brown eyes. She was wearing a skirt that covered her knees and her blouse was untucked.

Theodosia suddenly felt horribly ungrateful.

“Some of those events are nice,” she told Janine, then put an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “In fact, you should come along sometime.”

Janine brightened as if the sun had suddenly burst out from behind the clouds. “Really?”

“Yes, really. In fact, if you’d like to come to the opening at the Heritage Society tonight, I can certainly get your name on the list.” Theodosia knew that Drayton wouldn’t mind one bit.

“I can’t make it tonight,” Janine said. “But maybe some other time?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Theodosia was starting to feel more and more upbeat by the minute. Being kind to people, having a charitable attitude, was good for the body and the soul. “Now, where are those dresses you have for me?”

Janine pushed back a plum-colored velvet drapery and led the way into a fitting room. “Hanging up right here.” She reached out and smoothed one of the dresses. “And I have to tell you, Delaine was very insistent that all the dresses be short and black.”

“Cocktaily,” Theodosia said.

“That’s right.”

“Okay, I’ll give them a try.”

Janine pulled the privacy curtain across and said, “Once you’re changed, Theodosia, be sure to come out and give us a fashion show.”

But the first dress Theodosia tried on was so wrong. A clingy jersey number that was too short, too tight, and had a flouncy skirt that looked like it would blow up and reveal everything with just a paltry puff of wind.

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