Claire Delacroix (18 page)

“We don’t take foreign money,” Joe said crisply and handed it back. “U.S. dollars at par, unless you go to the bank. Sorry -” he shrugged “- but it’s so busy that I don’t have time to screw around with exchange rates.”

Niall looked to Viviane, embarrassed by his inability to pay for their victuals. She dug in her own pocket, producing an odd array of colored coins and paper.

The balance was paid while Niall’s ears burned, though none seemed to find him less of a man for so relying upon his female companion’s largesse. Indeed, friendly greetings exchanged as they gathered their purchases, and the shop filled with familiar talk about the weather. The merchant had provided small tables and chairs in his shop, perhaps the reason for his small portions.

Niall followed Viviane’s lead with brown powders she called sugar and cinnamon, his first sip of this beverage making his eyes close in wonder. ’Twas marvelous and he could quickly see that he would have need of another.

Niall consumed several sausage rolls in silence before his belly was appeased, then met Viviane’s cautious gaze. The deed could be avoided no longer. “I would apologize to you, for ’tis clear you are angered with me this morn.”

Her lips tightened and she avoided his gaze. “If you’re leaving, it doesn’t matter whether I’m angry with you or not.”

“Viviane...”

She put her cup back down on the board with force. “
Are
you leaving? And if you are, how could you tell Barb but not me? You don’t even know her! And why did you ignore me this morning?” Her lovely eyes clouded with tears, which must have been the only reason Niall’s innards clenched. “What’s wrong? How could you even think of leaving? I thought that we...”

Niall reached across and snared her hand, wishing the others in this establishment were not so interested in their conversation. He looked into Viviane’s eyes, knowing he couldn’t lie to her despite her witchery, but needing to reassure her.

And zounds, he had to ensure she did not cry!

Some parts of the truth would simply have to be avoided, there was naught else for it.

“Viviane,” he said in a voice low with determination. “If I had joined you in your showering chamber, we should still be there.”

That was true enough.

She caught her breath, her eyes widening slightly as she stared at him. Her gaze was so full of hope that he could not imagine the expression was contrived.

Niall held her gaze and smiled slowly, liking how her hand relaxed in his and her gaze softened. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, unaware he intended to do so before he felt the smooth sweep of her skin pass beneath his touch.

“And if I had but looked upon you,” he murmured, “then I would have joined you. Matters might well have moved too quickly and we might have done what would later be regretted.”

“Oh, Niall!” Viviane smiled at him then, for the first time since he had come into the shop seeking her and Niall’s heart clenched. “Trust you to be worried about something like that!”

And she reached across the table, framed his face in her hands and kissed him soundly.

Niall’s heart leapt, but Viviane did not pull back, her lips soft against his own. He could smell the sweet scent of her skin, of that cursed lotion she had used in the shower, and his body responded with vigor.

When she flicked her tongue against his lips like a thirty kitten sipping milk, desire raged hot through his veins. Zounds, he would take her right here and care naught for the consequences!

Niall caught at her wrists, and with a herculean effort, lifted her hands from his face. He broke their kiss, knowing his gaze simmered into hers but unable to stop it.

His breathing was ragged, the sight of Viviane’s flushed cheeks doing naught to ease his state.

Then, she smiled.

’Twas only because he had affirmed the effect of her spell upon him, Niall was certain. Though now he realized the folly of what he had done, too late to undo it.

At least, the tears had disappeared from her eyes.

Indeed, she leaned closer and Niall’s heart skipped a beat, his mouth going dry. “Oh, Niall, I just knew that everything would come out right. I knew that you had to desire me, just as I want you and now that I know that you’re not leaving, well everything will be just fine! Barb said you would be shy about confessing your emotions, but I think you’ve done a wonderful job already and now -” she pinkened in a most delightful way as she smiled at him “- now, I’ll just have to convince you to love me. Don’t worry, it will be perfect!”

And she sipped her beverage, as content as a cat by the fire.

Niall swallowed. He had put himself back in the position he most wished to avoid. He had to say something to keep Viviane at distance, something to undermine her conviction that they would shortly share a bed, something to make her forget her intent to charm him.

So, Niall said the first thing that came to mind, prompted as it was by the smell of a warm sausage pastry.

“Aye, I should be sorely hungered if we still were in this washing room. ’Tis good indeed that we were not delayed there overlong.”

Niall bit into his pastry with gusto.

Through his lashes, he watched Viviane catch her breath and deliberately decided to make matters worse.

“Indeed, I cannot imagine what a man could love more than a warm pastry such as this one.” He finished it with one hearty bite, quickly claiming another, smacking his lips and feigning indifference to the lady’s presence.

Viviane glared at him, her lips tight, then sat back in her chair. Her eyes shone oddly but Niall refused to let himself be swayed by the prospect of tears.

Nay, he had a mission. And he could only fulfill his mission by ensuring Viviane’s desire was not achieved.

Surprisingly, his own desire to kiss her did not ease.

Indeed, Niall felt newly guilty for disappointing her. ’Twas an irrational impulse and he would do best to not linger upon it.

“What is the coin of this realm?” Niall asked, in a bid to distract her and prompt her chatter once again. The woman loved to talk, after all, and she was uncommonly good at explaining matters, even if she was prone to attribute all to magic. “Let me see it. I would not err so again.”

Viviane obligingly poured it onto the table between them, though her manner indicated that she was unimpressed by the chance to explain it to him.

’Twas unlike any currency Niall had ever seen before, the rims of the coins unnicked. There were coins of all hues of metal, instead of simply gold or silver, and they were most finely minted. There was a regent on one side - a queen, no less! - which was familiar enough, and an animal on the reverse, much like the emblems Niall knew well.

The images upon them however were more crisp than any Niall had ever seen. This he suspected was a function of a skilled die-maker.

“Tell me of it,” he asked.

The lady folded her arms across her chest mutinously.

“Viviane, ’tis all I ask of you,” Niall murmured and saw her heave a sigh.

“Are you leaving?”

Niall held her gaze. “Not without you.”

’Twas true. Just uttering the words restored Niall’s glum mood, just as the deed clearly delighted the lady.

“I knew it!” she cried and smiled for him again. Niall’s heart began to pound. “I’ll teach you to love me,” Viviane pledged as she leaned closer, a tempting smile playing over her full lips. She wrinkled her nose and shook her finger at him playfully. “And it has been said that I can be irresistible.”

Niall’s mouth went dry. Indeed, he believed her claim well enough and could think of several ways to succumb to her charms right here and now, though he fought to keep his expression impassive.

Viviane barely noticed his response, her cheerful manner restored. “This one is a dollar.” She fished out a copper hued coin and handed it to Niall, the brushing of their fingers in the transaction sending a tingle over his flesh. He frowned that she might not guess his response. “They call it a loonie, though I don’t know why.”

Niall turned the coin in his fingers. Viviane spoke with good sense - there was naught about it that resembled the moon. Its color was wrong, too brassy for even a harvest moon and there was a water bird of some kind upon its back.

“And this one is worth two of those,” she separated another from the pile and handed it to him. ’Twas distinctive in that it was wrought of two different metals, one encircling the other in a most skilled fashion. “They call it a toonie.”

Niall glanced up, puzzled, and she shrugged.

“I don’t know why.” She picked through the pile of smaller coins, laying them out in order. “These ones are worth fractions of the loonie or the dollar, whichever you want to call it.”

“Like shillings and pence.”

“Yes, but they divide the dollar into measures of a hundred called cents. So, this is a quarter of a dollar, and this is called a dime and is worth ten cents.”

“Ten to the dollar.”

“Um hmm. And the nickel is five cents and the penny is a single cent. Then there’s the paper money.” She unfurled vellum so brightly hued and embellished that it made Niall gasp. These pictures he could not so readily explain, though it was clear there was real talent in the making of them. The green one labeled ‘20’ even had a square upon it that gleamed like gold held one way, and with the shiny green of a beetle’s back the other.

He could not blame Viviane for calling this magic, though Niall hoped he could prove ’twas otherwise.

“They call it paper,” Viviane confided in an undertone. “Barb says it’s made of wood and they use this paper for everything, including books.”

Niall glanced up with surprise. “What of vellum and parchment?”

“Very expensive here.” Viviane shrugged. “Paper is cheaper.”

Niall arched a brow, the idea of goods being expensive having little to do with his idea of an otherworldly paradise. His pulse quickened, his certainty growing that he was right. “And whence does it come, this currency?”

“You work for it, just like in Cantlecroft, but get it at the bank.” She pointed to a building with a large blue sign and Niall marked its location.

“Moneychangers.”

Viviane nodded and Niall shook his head. They were everywhere, with their exorbitant interest rates and fees for services, worse than whores for cheating a man.

Their presence did not mesh with his expectation of paradise either. All the same, he would visit there later this day to have his own coin changed, though he would ensure the moneychangers did not cheat him. They were well known for such thievery, even in Cantlecroft, and Niall was even more convinced that this place was more like home than not.

“Barb pays me to be in the shop and help her clients. She even lets me read the books so I can suggest which ones people might like to read and oh, Niall, it’s so interesting! I never imagined that there were so many books in the world and so many stories being told, and so many marvelous kingdoms being described.”

“Though indeed -” she leaned closer and Niall echoed her gesture before he caught himself “- there is much that I do not understand.”

Viviane wrinkled her nose in a most fetching manner. “They must all be tales of this magical realm, or perhaps of other magical realms. ’Tis more than a little confusing, though I must confess, my interest is in the romantic deeds. That I can
always
understand!” Her eyes shone in a most beguiling manner as she talked and Niall had a hard time keeping his skepticism in place.

Aye, he could have simply watched the woman all the day long. No doubt that was her scheme - for ’twould keep him from learning all he needed to know.

Niall snorted. “I was not aware that any tales of paradise included the concept of labor for coin.”

Viviane sipped her drink. “Well, I don’t work very hard.”

“But you are not there this day.”

Viviane shrugged. “Then Barb won’t pay me.”

Niall was a practical man. Even this small meal had cost considerable measure of Viviane’s coin. They must eat thrice a day and oft more than this small feast. He could see the limitations of this system already, particularly as he was uncertain how long ’twould take to gain the knowledge he now desired, let alone what measure these moneychangers would give him in exchange for his own coin.

He and Viviane might spend a good bit of time in each other’s company. Niall’s heart skipped a beat at the prospect, though he knew ’twas just Viviane’s spell working its witchery upon him.

Nay, his sole desire was to win good apprenticeships for his nephews. And he must remain in the lady’s presence, ideally sharing her quarters, to ensure that she did not flee or use her charm to disappear.

’Twas only the thought of fulfilling his pledge that made his pulse quicken.

Niall scowled. “And your chamber? You pay for this with coin or labor?”

“Money. $200 per month.”

“And how much are you paid by this Barb?”

Viviane ran through the numbers for him, Niall calculating sums in his head as ever he had done. She explained her wage and her mode of payment, which meant she had to explain the odd manner of keeping hours in this place. He added and subtracted, and was somewhat reassured that they would not starve.

’Twas then that Viviane told him of the healthy tithe taken from her earnings.

“It’s a tax,” she explained. “From the government.”

“What government? I have seen neither king nor court!”

“Well, there isn’t actually one here...”

“Nay? And what do they do with your coin? I see no knights, no steeds, no armory. Is all this hidden away from the eye? What of the master of the market?” He poked at his over-small pastry. “Does no one police the measures?”

Viviane dropped her voice and leaned closer. “I haven’t seen any signs of anything like that,” she admitted. “And they say the money goes away to Ottawa, wherever that might be.”

“Distant kings, who take coin and grant naught in return! They are no better than thieves in the night!” Niall roared so loudly that others turned to look. He shook a finger at Viviane. “You should refuse to pay their tithes, for no one should pay a due without winning something in return.”