18
Biscuit was walking in circles between and around the ladies, enjoying their shouts and gasps as his tail and nose sent their dresses into words flowing over parchment-colored clouds before rematerializing again and again.
Julia was crouching behind the spiral staircase, which didn’t provide much cover through its open risers and ironwork railings, though it did allow her to peer through at the women.
Aurelia turned toward her, recognizing that the characters would survive Biscuit and that all her energy had to go into reassuring her frightened niece.
“It’s alright, Julia,” she said as she squatted beside her. “Everything’s okay, I promise you. They can’t hurt you. It’s weird, and strange, but… well, there’s something special about this shop. Magical, really!”
“What are those people?” Julia asked, her voice quavering.
“I know this is hard to believe—it took me a while to believe it myself—but they’re… they’re characters from books.”
There was nothing for it, now; Julia had seen the women shifting back into mists, she was wide awake, and was now officially in on Aurelia’s secret.
Julia momentarily stopped staring at the women, who were still trying to escape Biscuit’s attentions, and looked at Aurelia.
“It sounds mad, but it’s true.” Aurelia tried to sound more calm and collected than she felt. “They’ve appeared to Aunt Marigold, Lucy, and Cristobel, too. It’s something to do with this shop and the Recommended Reads table.”
Julia continued to stare at Aurelia, so she pressed on.
“You remember how Jane Eyre, Cranford, and Pride and Prejudice are there?” Aurelia asked, pointing at the table. “Well, each of these women are from those novels.”
“Aunt Aurelia,” Julia said quietly, disbelieving.
“Look at their clothes and listen to how they speak. They’re just the way their authors described them in their books.”
Aurelia couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice.
Finally she could share all of this with someone else.
And as much as she’d been wanting that someone else to be Oliver, he couldn’t see or hear the characters like Julia could.
Aurelia had discovered that over the time they’d been together, when the characters would vanish as soon as he stepped into the shop.
Now, with Julia face-to-face with them, Aurelia didn’t have to prove anything at all, or worry that Julia that wouldn’t believe her, once she understood.
Julia looked over at the women again and slowly stood, her hands still gripping the ironwork of the staircase. Kitty was focused on Biscuit, but Blanche and Mrs. Jamieson drew closer, clearly listening in since the shop was small enough for Aurelia’s and Julia’s voices to carry.
“Every night they come to the shop from their books in a sort of fog with words on it, just like you’re seeing now.”
She and Julia looked over at Kitty, who—after her initial distress at Biscuit’s arrival—was now laughing as she skipped around the shop floor while Biscuit wreaked havoc with the bottom of her dress.
“Why haven’t I seen them before? Other than that first time,” Julia asked, a smile at the corner of her mouth as she watched Kitty.
“They always arrive at midnight, and then they leave at dawn. They never show up in the shop during the day. That’s why you caught me down here the other night—I was visiting them.”
“But those were different people.”
“They were different characters, yes. And that really was Jane Rochester, from Jane Eyre.”
“I have asked you not to speak that woman’s name!” Blanche shouted as she stomped her foot.
Her delivery was just histrionic enough to make Julia snort with a repressed laugh. Seeing Julia relax made Aurelia do the same.
“I rather like this dog,” Kitty said suddenly, somehow oblivious to Blanche’s outburst.
“Oh, you would, you simpering little—”
“Wait…” Julia said, taking a step out from behind the stairs. “You really are Blanche Ingram, aren’t you?”
Perhaps it was Blanche’s telltale sneer that had done it, but Julia seemed to recognize her.
“Daughter of Lady Ingram, yes,” Blanche said, drawing herself up.
“You have a sister—a younger sister? And a brother?”
“I do. What, have you been reviewing your Debrett’s?”
“I don’t know what that is,” Julia said dismissively. “But I’ve been reading Jane Eyre.”
“One more time, I dare you!” Blanche threatened, her anger returning as her eyes reduced to slits.
“It’s the name of your book!” Julia said just as loudly, clearly not frightened by Blanche’s bullying. “It’s not my fault Charlotte Bronte called it that.”
“Yes, well, she clearly wasn’t much of a writer. Blanche Ingram would have made a much more suitable title.”
“I don’t understand my title at all,” Kitty joined in. “Who was proud and who was prejudiced? Or was someone both proud and prejudiced?”
“How delightful, more inane ramblings from the child,” Mrs. Jamieson murmured, rolling her eyes.
Julia began slowly moving toward Kitty, as though still unsure whether it was safe.
“So, you’re from Pride and Prejudice?”
“I am,” Kitty said, smiling.
“I haven’t read that one yet. There’s a film version, though—a few of them, I think—and I was going to try to watch one when my aunt wasn’t looking.”
Aurelia resisted the urge to scold Julia and instead focused on how well Julia seemed to be coping with the shock of her new discovery.
“A… a what version?” Kitty asked.
“Film—it’s like… a play, with actors.”
“There is a play of my story?” Kitty’s face lit up with excitement.
“There are a few different ones, with different actors.”
“Ooh, I do hope the actors who play me are pretty!”
“Well, I haven’t seen one yet, but I can watch and find out. I’ll let you know.”
She’s making friends, Aurelia thought, trying not to pass out in relief. She’s actually making friends with them.