Page 10 of Of Socialites and Prizefights

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Elizabeth Turtledove was resourceful when it came to enchanting dresses. With curses, perhaps not so much.

“Can’t you go to the police?” Elizabeth demanded, outraged on her behalf.

“Yes, I’m sure they'll be most sympathetic to the unmarried, brown-skinned gold digger,” Deepa said dryly.

“Oh, damn. No, I suppose that would do you any good, would it.”

It was Monday morning and Deepa was sitting in the back room of Elizabeth’s chic little dress shop, with a friendly tea and a tin of jam biscuits on the table, and her latest order in a box in her lap. The dress was stunning, the charmwork and glamours exquisite as always, but this time, the magic left a bad taste in her mouth. It hadn't been any of her dresses’ fault that Phillip had cursed her, but a voice in the back of her head suggested that attracting the wrong sort of attention the way she did was always bound to land her in trouble. Wearing so many enchantmentsdesigned to draw men's eyes only ensured that the trouble would find her sooner than later.

“I really don’t know anything about that sort of magic,” Elizabeth was saying apologetically. “I can certainly read up on it, but I've never had any practice with curses. I’d hate to make it worse for you instead of better.”

“It’s alright. Eventually, the wretch will have to return to London.”

“You can’t just keep on as a leopard until then!”

“Aaliyah thinks it would be easier for me to find my true love and break the curse the way it was made to be broken. As if it’s so easy.”

“I don’t suppose you have any true loves on the horizon?” Elizabeth asked hopefully. It was easy for her to hope, as she herself had not one but two devoted lovers.

“Her approach was to take me to a lesbian bar. That should give you some idea as to how it’s going with my suitors.”

“Did the lesbian bar interest you any better than your usual fare?”

“Well.” Deepa paused. “I won't say it was a complete waste,” she allowed.

“Oh?”

“Nothing happened. Maybe just…a spark.”

“A spark worth pursuing?” Elizabeth prompted.

“I may have promised to see her again. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does if you intend to keep the promise! In any case, I’m happy for you, and I hope it works out. In general, but also for the sake of that curse. Oh, and your mother wants to know why you didn't have her over this weekend,” Elizabeth added with a wince. Deepa’s mother was employed as Elizabeth’s housekeeper, the arrangement being friendly enough for them to chat. Chat, and complain about her daughter, evidently. “Isuppose your leopard business must have interfered on that front.”

Slumping forward, one elbow braced against the dress box, Deepa covered her face with a hand. “I haven’t even thought about telling her. She worries over me enough as it is.”

Elizabeth offered her a sympathetic pat on the back. “Maybe give it a few days and see if things resolve before bringing it up?”

“For some reason, I don't see this going away on its own like a head cold.”

“Have another biscuit,” Elizabeth suggested, pushing the tin towards her for lack of anything better to offer.

Glumly, Deepa accepted. “Don’t tell my mother I’m a leopard. I don’t want her fussing.”

“No, of course not.”

“You can tell her you saw me, though. And that I’m sorry about the weekend, and I’ll be in touch soon.”

“If there’s anything concrete I can do to help,” Elizabeth began.

“Short of going to France and wringing that man’s neck, I don’t think there’s much anyone can do for me right now.”

CHAPTER FIVE

A ROOFTOP BOXING MATCH

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