Free Nancy Atherton by Aunt Dimity [14] Aunt Dimity Slays the Dragon

allowed to see them in costume until they ride in the king’s
    pro cession.”
    “Aw,” I said, melting. “How sweet. Do we have the most adorable children in the world, or what?”
    Our adorable children chose that moment to bellow from the
    top of the stairs, “ Mummy! Where are you?”
    “They’re certainly audible,” Bill observed, wincing.
    “I’d better go up before they bring the roof down,” I said, and
    started up the hallway.
    “By the way,” Bill called after me, “I ran into Sally Pyne while I
    was in Finch. According to her, no one from the village is going to
    wear a costume tomorrow.”
    I swung around to face him. “No one?”
    “No one,” he repeated. “Apparently there’s been a general change
    of heart. Sally told me that her sewing students have agreed to take
    a look at the fair before deciding whether or not to wear their new
    outfi ts.”
    I blinked at him, nonplussed.
    “I thought you’d want to know,” he said.
    “Thanks,” I said faintly, and made my way upstairs
    I felt somewhat dashed. Nearly everyone in Finch had taken one
    or more of Sally’s classes. They’d worked their fi ngers to the bone
    to produce elaborate garments for the fair. I couldn’t understand
    why they were having second thoughts about using them.
    I pondered the question while I ran the boys’ bath, and gradually began to have my own second thoughts. My neighbors weren’t
    stupid, I told myself. Perhaps it would be wise to follow their lead
    and attend the fair as an observer before jumping into it with my
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    usual abandon. The twins and their ponies could get away with
    wearing costumes because they would be part of the offi
    cial pageantry, but until we tested the waters, Bill and I might be better off
    in civvies.
    “Dimity,” I murmured, reaching a decision, “I’m going to make
    you proud of me. For once, I’m going to look before I leap.”
    As I tossed two rubber ducks into the tub, I could almost feel
    the warm glow of her approval.
    Six
    I don’t know who was more excited the following morning—
    the twins or me. I rose at the crack of dawn to get a jump
    start on the day, and the twins bobbed along in my wake.
    We’d already finished our porridge by the time Bill came downstairs for breakfast, and we could scarcely conceal our impatience
    as we watched him eat his. To keep Will and Rob from force-feeding
    their father, I hustled them out of the kitchen and into the front hall
    to help me load the Rover.
    I sent them out to the car with Bill’s day pack, which I’d filled with
    everything I thought he and the boys might need while they were
    away from home: sunblock, rain ponchos, warm sweaters, snacks,
    bottled water, a change of shoes for the twins, and a few other odds
    and ends. A glance at the brilliant blue sky told me that the sunblock
    would probably be more useful than the sweaters, but I’d learned
    through hard experience that a fine English day could turn fiendish at
    the drop of a hat, so I left the sweaters where they were.
    While Will and Rob dragged the bulging pack to the Rover, I
    stowed their costumes in a garment bag, where they would remain
    until the boys changed into them at the fair. I’d decided the night
    before to pair their everyday black riding breeches and boots with
    the tunics Sally Pyne had made for them. Tights and soft leather
    shoes would have been more authentic, but breeches would be
    more comfortable, and riding boots, safer.
    Sally had done a superlative job on the tunics. Rob’s was a deep
    sapphire-blue, with exquisite Celtic interlace embroidery done in
    silver thread on the belt, the stand-up collar, and the wide cuffs,
    while Will’s was crimson, with gold embroidery. The boys had
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    53
    refused to model their costumes for me—they wouldn’t dress up
    until their ponies did—but Sally had assured me that the outfits
    were appropriate for the young sons of a noble family.