Looking up, she caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror
. What a mess she was! As a result of all her crying, her eye makeup was under her eyes instead of above them. Her blouse was hanging out of her belt, and there a long cut on the sleeve, and it was dotted with blood. Her navy blue tights were bagging at the ankle. And her hair, tangled and droopy, was too awful to contemplate.
Turning away from the unpleasant vision, she mumbled, “Trousers.” This time, Dougless left the curtained area as the clerk measured Nicholas. When the door to the shop opened and more customers entered, the clerk ushered Nicholas to a dressing room, then handed him several pair of trousers through the door. All was quiet for a moment until Dougless saw the dressing room door open a crack and the man peeped out, looking at Dougless for help. She went to him.
“I cannot manage,” he said softly, then opened the door wider so she could enter. “What manner of fastening is this?”
Dougless tried not to think of this situation. She was squashed into a dressing room with a strange man who couldn’t figure out how to work the zipper on the front of his trousers. “Here, like . . .” She started to show him on the trousers he had on, but she thought better of that. Taking a pair hanging from a hook, she showed him the zipper, then the snaps; then she took a step back to watch while, childlike, he zipped and unzipped, snapped and unsnapped. When she was sure he’d caught on, she started to open the door.
“Wait. What is this wondrous substance?” He held up a pair of boxer shorts, stretching the waistband in and out.
“It’s elastic,” she said.
“Elastic,” he said, mispronouncing the word as “elistic.” But his face was so alight with discovery that she couldn’t help feeling good also.
“That’s nothing,” she said, smiling. “Wait until you see velcro.” She backed out of the dressing room. “You need any more help, let me know.”
She was still smiling as she closed the door behind her. Standing with her back to the dressing room door, she looked at the clothes around her. How plain they must look to a man who was used to wearing silver armor, she thought.
While they had been inside the dressing room, the clerk had placed the armor, the sword, and the dagger in two large, doubled shopping bags and had set them to the left of the dressing room door. When Dougless went to pick up the bags, they were so heavy she almost dropped them.
After a while, Nicholas came out of the dressing room. He was wearing a soft white cotton shirt and slim gray cotton trousers. The shirt was of the current voluminous style, while the trousers were snug. He looked utterly divine.
As Dougless watched him, he walked to the mirror, then glowered at his image.
“These . . . these,” he said, tugging at the ease of the trousers at the back of his leg.
“Trousers. Pants,” she supplied, blinking at him. It was taking her a while to adjust to his good looks.
“They do not fit me. They do not show my legs, and I have a fine pair of legs.”
Dougless laughed and her trance was broken. “Men don’t wear stockings now, but, really, you look great.”
“I am not sure,” he said, frowning. “Perhaps a chain.”
“No chain,” she said firmly. “Trust me on this. No chain.”
She chose a leather belt for him, then socks. “We’ll have to go to another store for shoes.”
Feeling as though she’d done her good deed for the year, Dougless wasn’t prepared for Nicholas’s actions at the cash register. The little clerk totaled the tags he’d cut from the clothes, then told them the cost. Dougless was shocked speechless when Nicholas shouted, “I will have your head, thief!” then reached for his sword—which, thankfully, was in the shopping bags by Dougless’s feet.
“He means to rob me!” Nicholas bellowed. “I can hire a dozen men for less than he asks for these unadorned clothes.”
Dougless nearly leaped as she put herself between Nicholas and the counter while the poor little clerk huddled against the opposite wall. “Give me the money,” she said firmly. “Everything costs more now than it used to. I mean,” she said as she clenched her teeth, “you’ll remember soon enough about how much things cost. Now, give me the money.”
Still angry, he handed Dougless the leather bag full of coins. “No,” she said, “the modern money.” When Nicholas just stood there, not seeming to understand what she was talking about, she searched through the shopping bags until she found the English pounds.
“He will take paper for clothes?” the earl whispered as Dougless counted out the money; then he smiled. “I will give him all the paper he wants. He is a fool.”
“It’s paper money,” she said as they left the shop. “And you can exchange the paper for gold.”
“Someone will give me gold for paper?” he asked, incredulous.
“Yes, there are gold dealers, and some banks sell gold.”
“Then why do you not use gold to buy goods with?”
“Too heavy, I guess.” She sighed. “You put your money in a bank. Money you aren’t using, that is, and use the paper as a substitute for the gold. Where do you put your money?” she asked.