Page 46 of Enticing Odds
The shopkeeper, apparently mildly hard of hearing, shuffled to the corner of the room, where there hung a rope connected to a convoluted system of pulleys, and moved as if to lower the massive taxidermized reptile that hung from the ceiling.
“Oh no, no, please, don’t trouble yourself. I was simply…” Cressida stared at it once more. “Admiring it.” She raised a brow. “It is perhaps a tad overlarge for my purposes.”
“Of course, of course,” the sprightly shopkeep said, retracing his steps back to the counter.
How, Cressida wondered, had such a proud creature met its end? It must have once been a fearsome thing, feasting upon fish and birds alike. And now here it was, disemboweled andstuffed with heaven knew what, suspended from the ceiling of this odd little shop near the London Docks. Such was the heart of man, rapacious in its need to possess: riches, lands, fabled beasts, women. She would never allow herself to be caught in the clutches of another man, trussed up and put on display, the perfect viscountess. The perfect broodmare, more like. Now she found herself wishing this poor crocodile had kept its freedom as well.
Her sympathetic musings were interrupted by a shockingly loud ringing sound. She glanced to her right to see Henry, mallet in hand, next to a younger shop clerk who was holding up an eccentric-looking bit of metal that was ringing, low and clear, humming through her body from her teeth to her toes.
“Henry!” she chastised.
“He said I could,” her son protested.
Cressida sighed. Although the sound of the strange, almost anchor-shaped gong was in fact rather pleasant, it was still reverberating, so she moved deeper into the shop, further from its vibrations.
The entire establishment was a feast for the eyes. The large front room had been filled with live creatures, from tiny monkeys with huge eyes to squawking birds in brilliant shades of every color. Henry had begged for her to purchase Dr. Collier a lemur, with its hypnotizing yellow eyes and ringed tail. Cressida politely explained that the gift of a pet—especially such an exotic one—was not appropriate, that it would be a terrible imposition on the poor bachelor of a doctor. Thankfully, the next room boasted the most enchanting type of object for a young boy: weapons. Clubs and spears, curved swords, axes… Cressida had kept her hand atop Henry’s shoulder until he complained that her fingers were digging into him.
Moving on from the crocodile, she took it all in, fascinating objects from every corner of the globe, brought to London bysailors and adventurers. She knew Dr. Collier would love it all, would spend the whole of the day losing himself amongst the five-foot-tall vases, life-sized human sculptures, walls of masks, and shelves of mysterious animal skulls. Her chest tightened at the thought of him pushing up his spectacles, leaning over the display cases that he might get a closer look. He would love all of it, but what one item, what one curiosity, would speak to him above everything else? Cressida prided herself on her insight and discernment when it came to gifts, but the variety on display was overwhelming. A decent gift would communicate her gratitude, but an excellent gift would convey so much more.
Like how desperate she was to see him come undone.
Perhaps it was his initial lack of interest, perhaps it was the wide span of his shoulders and his large hands, or the way his eyeglasses tempered the brutal masculinity of his face, but Cressida had decided. And she wished to have him.
It had been far too long since she’d truly wanted for anything. It was, she ruefully admitted to herself, a delicious feeling.
“Have you found anything yet?” Henry said breathlessly as he materialized before her, both hands gripping a massive triangular tooth. “What?” he asked, noting her expression. “Oh, right, this is a shark tooth. May I have it? Please?”
“A shark? Henry, that’s nearly as large as your entire hand!”
He shrugged. “That’s what the clerk said it was.”
“Did he?” She sighed, moving across the room, guiding Henry along with a gentle hand on his back. “Well, who am I to debate the proprietors? It’s practically a museum, this place. I shall just give thanks that I am of land and not sea.”
“It’s amazing, Mama. In that back room there’s a mummified head of a man! Oh, and a statue of a god they pulled from a river, and they said they once even had a tiger—a real live one!”
Cressida looked up in alarm.
Across the room an attendant waved his hands about, shaking his head vigorously. “No tigers, my lady. Er, not currently, that is.”
She arched a brow, momentarily placated. A case against the far wall beckoned, filled with trays of tiny, shimmering objects, and she felt herself drawn to it, eager to examine the strange assemblage like the filthy mudlarks who combed the shores of the Thames, hoping to find something spectacular amongst the wrack.
There were carved jade finials, long separated from whatever objects they’d once crowned, tiny animals fashioned from ivory, miniscule bronze and enameled bottles, silver hatpins, elegant yet solitary cufflinks forever divorced from their mates. Her attention was drawn to a small gold casket, engraved with a fish with one large diamond eye. It was a peculiar adornment, for it appeared to be a fat goldfish.
“I beg your pardon,” she called to the clerk across the room.
“Yes, my lady?” The young man crossed quickly, hands folded before him.
“May I see that?” She pointed to the small gold box.
The clerk produced a flannel cloth, then set the casket upon it. Cressida lifted it up, surprised by its heft.
She felt Henry sidle up alongside her.
“What’s that?” he asked as she clicked it open.
Two glinting gold dice lay within, their pips all tiny diamonds.
“Dr. Collier has advised me never to dice,” Henry said scornfully, with all the enthusiasm of newly molded devotee. “He says hazard is the most ruinous of games.”
