that stung.
This time it was his turn to narrow his eyes. Picking up the first utensil he felt in her barrow, a sort of bowl-shaped thing with holes in it, he turned and faced the crowd. That number of people had grown in the few minutes they’d been in the square. Rein was surprised to see so many people out and about at such an early hour. Did none of them attend parties? As he eyed the men and women who could only be termed the serving class, he supposed not.
“Peeler for your vegetables,” Anna cried out, startling Rein, who turned and looked at her askance. Within ten seconds she had a buyer, a man whom Rein was convinced was more interested in peering down her dress than the utensil she sold.
“A… thing for your… things,” Rein called out.
He heard Molly snort, turned to her with a lift of his brow. He’d get no help from Anna.
“It’s a sieve,” she explained.
“Molly,” Anna accused. “Do not help him.”
“Can’t help it. My sense of fair play,” she said, turning to peddle her own wares.
Thus ensued a battle of the voice, Rein and Anna crying out to attract potential customers, but it quickly became apparent that Anna had the advantage. And why wouldn’t she? Rein thought. She’d years of experience over him, her savvy eyes picking out the most obvious customer—usually men—her tone and voice and manners suggesting that her inventions would do a lot more than help a person to cook.
Rein seethed.
Seethed until the moment he was struck by an idea. Excusing himself from Anna, who didn’t even deign to look up as he left, he used the coin he promised to Anna to buy a potato, going back to Anna’s barrow and selecting one of her vegetable peelers, something that seemed to sell well. He would find another way to pay her, perhaps by performing at that theater he’d seen advertised for playactors.
She lifted a brow, pausing from her song for a moment to watch as he lifted the vegetable. Rein ignored her, searching the crowd to find the most likely target in the growing throng. When he’d done so, selecting a portly man with chubby cheeks and smile lines near his eyes, Rein lifted the peeler, took aim, and let fly.
A sliver of skin landed on the cheek of his target.
“What the devil?” the man said, turning toward Rein.
He heard Molly laugh. Rein stepped forward to say, “And that, my good man, is only a glimpse of what this device can do.” He closed the distance between him and his subject, slicing at the potato like a beaver did a log.
“A bargain at four pence,” he said with a smile, doubling Anna’s price, for there was one thing Rein knew how to do—a thing that every member of the
ton
could do—size up a man’s worth by the cut and quality of his clothes. He judged this man to be an upper servant of some sort, perhaps even a butler. “Only think of how much time your cooks will save.”
The man eyed Rein askance. But then his gaze caught on the slivers on the ground. He looked back up. “Four pence?” he said.
Rein felt hope, nodded.
“Done,” the man said, digging into his black jacket.
Rein’s smile could no doubt be seen across the square.
“You lying cheat,” Anna said as the man walked away.
“Yes,” Rein said with a smile. “Isn’t it lovely?”
Her lips pressed together, her eyes narrowing until they were nearly shut beneath the brim of her hat.
He used his profit to buy a head of lettuce next. Anna eyeed him once more when he stopped by the permanent stall of an apple merchant and asked to borrow three of the man’s crates. The long-whiskered man agreed, and Rein took the crates to his spot near Anna. Next he took a wicked-looking knife off one the pegs on the Anna’s cart, retrieved the head of lettuce and placed it on the top of crate.
He waited.
Anna waited, too. He could tell that she was sneaking glances at him, her cries to the crowd rising and falling as she turned, walked a few paces and then turned back.
Rein lifted the
This time it was his turn to narrow his eyes. Picking up the first utensil he felt in her barrow, a sort of bowl-shaped thing with holes in it, he turned and faced the crowd. That number of people had grown in the few minutes they’d been in the square. Rein was surprised to see so many people out and about at such an early hour. Did none of them attend parties? As he eyed the men and women who could only be termed the serving class, he supposed not.
“Peeler for your vegetables,” Anna cried out, startling Rein, who turned and looked at her askance. Within ten seconds she had a buyer, a man whom Rein was convinced was more interested in peering down her dress than the utensil she sold.
“A… thing for your… things,” Rein called out.
He heard Molly snort, turned to her with a lift of his brow. He’d get no help from Anna.
“It’s a sieve,” she explained.
“Molly,” Anna accused. “Do not help him.”
“Can’t help it. My sense of fair play,” she said, turning to peddle her own wares.
Thus ensued a battle of the voice, Rein and Anna crying out to attract potential customers, but it quickly became apparent that Anna had the advantage. And why wouldn’t she? Rein thought. She’d years of experience over him, her savvy eyes picking out the most obvious customer—usually men—her tone and voice and manners suggesting that her inventions would do a lot more than help a person to cook.
Rein seethed.
Seethed until the moment he was struck by an idea. Excusing himself from Anna, who didn’t even deign to look up as he left, he used the coin he promised to Anna to buy a potato, going back to Anna’s barrow and selecting one of her vegetable peelers, something that seemed to sell well. He would find another way to pay her, perhaps by performing at that theater he’d seen advertised for playactors.
She lifted a brow, pausing from her song for a moment to watch as he lifted the vegetable. Rein ignored her, searching the crowd to find the most likely target in the growing throng. When he’d done so, selecting a portly man with chubby cheeks and smile lines near his eyes, Rein lifted the peeler, took aim, and let fly.
A sliver of skin landed on the cheek of his target.
“What the devil?” the man said, turning toward Rein.
He heard Molly laugh. Rein stepped forward to say, “And that, my good man, is only a glimpse of what this device can do.” He closed the distance between him and his subject, slicing at the potato like a beaver did a log.
“A bargain at four pence,” he said with a smile, doubling Anna’s price, for there was one thing Rein knew how to do—a thing that every member of the
ton
could do—size up a man’s worth by the cut and quality of his clothes. He judged this man to be an upper servant of some sort, perhaps even a butler. “Only think of how much time your cooks will save.”
The man eyed Rein askance. But then his gaze caught on the slivers on the ground. He looked back up. “Four pence?” he said.
Rein felt hope, nodded.
“Done,” the man said, digging into his black jacket.
Rein’s smile could no doubt be seen across the square.
“You lying cheat,” Anna said as the man walked away.
“Yes,” Rein said with a smile. “Isn’t it lovely?”
Her lips pressed together, her eyes narrowing until they were nearly shut beneath the brim of her hat.
He used his profit to buy a head of lettuce next. Anna eyeed him once more when he stopped by the permanent stall of an apple merchant and asked to borrow three of the man’s crates. The long-whiskered man agreed, and Rein took the crates to his spot near Anna. Next he took a wicked-looking knife off one the pegs on the Anna’s cart, retrieved the head of lettuce and placed it on the top of crate.
He waited.
Anna waited, too. He could tell that she was sneaking glances at him, her cries to the crowd rising and falling as she turned, walked a few paces and then turned back.
Rein lifted the