Bewitching Boots (17 page)

There was a swirl of red smoke that made everyone cough. The smell of sulfur filled the morning air.

Tilly and Leo were both gone. Visitors applauded, enjoying what they thought was the show. I didn’t plan to enlighten them on the reality of what had just happened. I didn’t even want to
think
about it.

My nerves were jangled as I opened the doors to the museum and waved everyone inside. I tried not to let it show. It would be good for publicity. People would tell their friends and relatives what a great show they’d seen.

“What was
that
?” Manny whispered urgently as we held the doors open for our visitors to enter. “Was it what I thought it was?”

“It is Renaissance Faire Village, good sir.” I plastered a pleasant smile on my face and kept it there. “Work with me. Let’s get Bill going.”

Getting Bill to his cutting table was a major operation. I sent Manny for coffee from the Monastery Bakery. Bill was acting like a large, confused slug. He had a hard time figuring out what he’d been working on the day before. He looked at his boot-making materials as though he’d never seen them.

“I’m not feeling so good, Jessie,” he confessed to me and the dozen or so visitors who were gathered around his table. “I think I should lie down for a while.”

“Sir Manny has gone for coffee and breakfast at the Monastery Bakery for you.” It was good PR to get information in about other spots in the Village. “As soon as you eat one of their delicious cinnamon rolls, you’ll feel much better.”

Bill nodded, and at least tried to make a go of his craft. He carefully examined a large piece of soft gray leather and set a boot guide on it to cut.

“I’d like a pair of boots made from that.” An older woman was wearing a bright gold snood and girdle. “May I be first? I have Lady Visa with me.”

“Of course.” I smiled at her. “We are selling Master Warren’s boots and sandals here until his shop, Bewitching Boots, opens tomorrow.”

The visitors murmured happily among each other. They were eager to lay down their Lady Visas and Sir Mastercards on the cutting table. They talked about the magic footwear that they’d heard about. Everyone in the crowded room wanted something made with Bill’s elf magic.

Bill couldn’t make all the orders we received in a day. He could do a few as the crowds went in and out of the museum. The rest would have to be shipped or picked up later by the visitor.

I took everyone’s money or credit and filled out receipts for them. Manny finally got back with a large black coffee and a cinnamon roll for Bill.

“Make a line over here for purchasing the shoemaker’s wares.” He adjusted the crowd so there was room to watch Bill work. I continued taking payment for at least two dozen pairs of boots, trying to distract everyone while Bill had a chance to eat and caffeinate.

Still the eager faces watched him closely as he sipped coffee and nibbled on the cinnamon roll. Phone cameras captured the not-so-magical moments as Bill nodded off while he was eating. His head fell forward to his worktable.

“What now?” Manny’s voice held the edge of panic. “He either has the worst hangover in the world—”

“—or he’s being affected by his lack of magic,” I whispered. “I’ve seen him drunk
and
sleepless in the last few weeks, but not without charm, which he seems to be now.”

“No magic?” Manny murmured. “I thought we didn’t believe he had magic to begin with.”

I told him a hurried sentence or two about what had transpired in Madame Lucinda’s tent yesterday.

“So you believe—?”

“I don’t know what to believe. We might have to close for a while until he recovers.”

A public relations tour guide for the Village fought her way through the crowd on the stairs to bring two reporters in with her. She smiled and shook my hand, blasts of camera flash blinding me. She ignored Manny and went right for Bill. Before I could stop her, the reporters had full access to my barely conscious shoemaker.

“Think fast,” Manny suggested.

I graciously descended on the group with my full power as museum director. “Could we do this another time?”

The PR woman in the light gray business suit turned to me with a nervous tick in her pretty smile. “Are you
sure
? He seems fine to me.”

Bill groaned, turned his head, and vomited on her very chic gray and white six-inch heels.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m
very
sure.”

Chapter Sixteen

It became a big deal. I had Manny take Bill home and closed the museum so I could accompany the PR woman to the castle. King Harold and Queen Olivia were concerned that Bill was giving the Village a bad reputation.

It was all I could do not to laugh.
Bad reputation?
Why did they let Tilly and Leo stay in the Village? Why did they allow Gus, the Master at Arms, to pinch every woman who walked into the castle?

I didn’t say either of those things. Merlin was also present in the throne room as I arrived. He was still dressed as a wizard with his pointy hat. I knew he only donned a suit and tie if it was
really
serious. Bill was safe as long as I was careful what I said.

Chase joined us too. I glanced at him. He shrugged.

The throne room was new to the castle. The king and queen (or Harry and Livy as we thought of them in the Village) had added the lavishly appointed area to make the tour of the castle lengthier. There was an extra charge to tour the areas where the king and queen lived. A few visitors had complained that the tour was too short for the money.

The king and queen added the throne room so that visitors could see them dispensing justice and awarding boons to the residents of the Village. It was all for show, of course, like Vegetable Justice that Chase presided over—but without the squishy vegetables or the stocks.

Each morning a group of residents was chosen to either ask for a favor from the royals or plead for mercy for some unknown offense. Adding this feature several times a day had been popular, so much so that they were able to raise the price of the castle tour.

The queen’s ladies were dressed in beautifully colored gowns and elaborate headdresses.  Princess Pea was present in her cradle with her nanny. Dozens of jugglers, fools, and musicians were around for entertainment. The king’s gentlemen flanked him on the royal dais with gorgeous swords. The thrones were actually replicas of thrones from around the world—except executed in wood and painted gold.

I had to admit that the room was impressive.

I curtsied to the king and queen. “I understand that you’re upset about the shoemaker’s difficulties in the Village, Your Majesties. I can assure you that he will settle in. There has been an unfortunate turn of events that has made his time here difficult.”

Sir Reginald (Katharina’s father) brought down his staff on the stone floor. “Silence, Lady Jessie! King Harold and Queen Olivia wish to hear a report from the Bailiff before passing judgment on the shoemaker.”

“What kind of report?” I questioned angrily.
They shut down the museum for this?

“I ask the questions here, Lady.” Sir Reginald was at his haughty best.

“That’s fine. Ask the questions. I turned away hundreds of people from the museum to be here.”

“We understand that the shoemaker was drunk on duty this morning, Lady Jessie.” King Harold finally said. “We are concerned about spending money to get his shop and apartment set-up—at
your
behest. He has only been here a short time, and yet has been accused of murder, declared himself a user of elf magic, and now is unable to perform his duties.”

“There is also the matter of Renaissance Faire Village providing a lavish program to introduce him,” Queen Olivia declared. “Explain to us what sort of man you have brought here.”

“My dear,” the King addressed the Queen. “We should hear her explanation for the shop first. That was more expensive.”

“I think my question is a fair one, my liege,” Queen Olivia retorted.

Sir Reginald brought down his staff again. “We must first hear from the Bailiff.”

The King and Queen glared at him.

He cleared his throat and bowed slightly. “Whatever Your Majesties desire, of course.”

I glanced at Chase. “It looks like you’re up.”

He stepped forward, making an elegant bow to the royals. “My Queen, King Harold—I have been investigating further into the death of Princess Isabelle this very morning. Bill Warren, the new shoemaker, has been cleared of all charges against him in this matter. The police have Sir Dwayne Barker in custody and are questioning him in regard to both the princess’s death, and the attack on Rita Martinez from the castle kitchen.”

“Do we know the outcome of those questions so far, Sir Bailiff?” the king asked.

“No, Your Highness,” Chase replied. “We do not as yet know those answers. I hope to have something more to report later today.”

“What about the charges against the shoemaker?” King Harold demanded. “Has he indeed used elf magic in my kingdom?”

“If I may, Your Majesty.” Merlin stepped forward. “I have examined the claims of elf magic which the shoemaker suggested. I can tell you that there are
no
facts to substantiate those claims.”

“Thank you, my trusty wizard.” The king smiled at him.

“Bill wasn’t drunk today either, Your Majesty,” I continued, uninvited. Sir Reginald shook his head. I ignored him. “He was ill from something he ate last night. His work is beyond reproach. I shall be happy to show you our sales reports for the past two days.”

The King and Queen nodded to one another.

“So we can expect great things from the shoemaker at his new abode?” King Harold raised a royal brow in my direction.

“Absolutely. Sometimes it’s difficult for people to settle in, as you well know, but I believe the shoemaker is a fine fit for the Village.”

“That is good enough for me, Lady Jessie.” Queen Olivia smiled. “You have our thanks for adding to our family here at the Village and increasing our coffers.”

It was bogus. The whole thing was a play so that the royals could practice dispensing justice. I’d shut down the museum for nothing. It would be hard to get that crowd back today.

Maybe it was okay since Bill wasn’t feeling well. I curtsied to the king and queen and left the throne room. Chase followed quickly after me.

“What happened with Bill?” he asked.

I shrugged. “He’s sick. I hope he’ll be better tomorrow.” I didn’t mention that the shoemaker had been up drinking half the night. “What about Sir Dwayne? Did anyone see him come into the castle last night?”

“I haven’t talked to anyone who saw him, but you know how it is here. There are too many people living in the castle for anyone to notice who goes in and out.”

“What about Gus? He wasn’t at the gate the day Isabelle died, you know. I’ve been thinking about it since then. What’s up with him?”

“He’s having an affair with one of the new women at The King’s Tarts. That’s all. He usually confines his dalliances to someone in the castle. He’s been roaming a little further than usual.”

“Maybe there needs to be someone at the gate to relieve him,” I suggested. “What now?”

“I don’t know. I’ll keep trying to find someone who saw Sir Dwayne come in last night. We don’t have a time for him, but neither do the police. Although they have plenty to charge him with after this morning.”

“Excuse me, good sir.” The woman was one of Isabelle’s ladies. I remembered her from the museum and the garden. “I overheard your problem. I can tell you what time Sir Dwayne came into the castle last night.”

Chase smiled at her. “Did you see him come in? You’re Victoria, right?”

“Yes, sir.” She dipped into a tiny curtsy. “I was going through Princess Isabelle’s clothing as the king and queen requested. They want to give away what they can of hers. Her suite will be used for Princess Pea in the future.”

“And what time did you see Sir Dwayne return?” Chase asked.

“It was before two a.m., sir. I noticed because he came to the princess’s room to retrieve some articles of his clothing.”

“I see. Thank you, Victoria.”

“Sir?” She stopped him from leaving. “I was wondering what happened this morning that made the police arrest Sir Dwayne? Do they believe he attacked Rita?”

“I don’t know yet,” Chase said. “Sir Dwayne held Lady Jessie hostage and tried to flee the Village. The gun he was holding went off, and he was injured. It doesn’t look good for him.”

Victoria’s face paled, and she put her hand to her throat. “You mean he is going to die?”

“No. He’ll be fine, but the charges are serious against him even without Rita’s attack.”

I was surprised at Chase being so frank with the woman. Usually he was a little cagier about his answers regarding an investigation. When Victoria curtsied and left us, I asked him about it.

“I figure she’s been through enough with Isabelle’s death. I didn’t want to jerk her around about it. You know how tight everyone is here at the castle.”

I couldn’t disagree with his reasoning. I wondered if Victoria might be smitten with Sir Dwayne—as everyone else seemed to be. It seemed odd that she hadn’t asked about the investigation into Princess Isabelle’s death.

I went to check on Bill. He was still sleeping it off. Chase and I agreed that we’d take our lunch breaks together and visit Rita at the hospital. I went back to the Dungeon to change out of my Village clothes and into jeans and a tank top. I grabbed some clothes for Chase and went to meet him at Peter’s Pub where we’d be closer to the Main Gate.

We didn’t eat at Peter’s though. As soon as Chase had changed clothes, we left the Village and stopped at our favorite burger place from the ‘outside’ world.

“Now if you really want to do something good for the Village,” he said. “You’d talk the king and queen into having a cheeseburger place.”

I laughed. “The queen likes you better. Maybe you can talk her into it.”

“Methinks the Village will never have a cheeseburger heaven along the cobblestones. We’ll have to sneak out occasionally in our street clothes to eat such as this.” He took a big bite of his burger and washed it down with soda.