Madame Lefoux’s hats were of the latest style, a number of them too daring for any save Ivy and her ilk. Cabinets displayed other accessories as well—mob caps, sleeping caps, hair pins, and bands all decorated beautifully. There were reticules of varying shapes and sizes; gloves; and dirigible accessories such as velvet ear protectors, skirt ties, weighted hem inserts, and the finest in color-tinted glass goggles. There was even a line of masquerade goggles trimmed with feathers and flowers. And, last but not least, a rack displaying Ivy Tunstell’s hairmuffs, designed for the fashionable young lady who wished to keep her hair untangled and her ears warm while still sporting the latest ringlets. They had gone somewhat out of favor recently, having enjoyed a brief spate of popularity during the winter months, but were still on display in deference to Mrs. Tunstell’s finer feelings.

Alexia completed her circuit of the shop and came to a decision. Given that any kind of stealth was out of the question, she must opt for her only alternative—making a fuss.

“Pardon me, miss.”

The same shopgirl was still rummaging behind the counter. Really, how long did it take to find a hatbox?

“Yes, madam, I will be right with you.”

Lady Maccon reached down inside herself for her most regal, difficult, aristocratic nature. “I will not be ignored, young lady!”

That got the girl’s attention. She actually turned around to see who this interfering female was.

“Do you know who I am?”

The young woman gave her the full once-over. “Lady Maccon?” she hazarded a guess.

“Indeed.”

“I had been warned to keep an eye out for you.”

“Warned? Warned! Were you, indeed? Well, now I am here and . . . and . . . ” She floundered. It was terribly hard to be angry when one wasn’t. “I have a very grave matter to discuss with your patroness.”

“I told you, madam, and I do apologize, but she is not available this evening, even for you.”

“Unacceptable!” Alexia was rather pleased with both the word choice and her execution. Very commanding, indeed! That’s what living with werewolves will do for a girl. Now where to go from here? “I’ll have you know I have been swindled! Absolutely swindled. I will have none of it. I shall call on the constabulary. You see if I don’t.”

By this time, Lady Maccon and the now-trembling shopgirl had attracted the attention of the entire establishment, both patrons and hire.

“I came here looking for hairmuffs. I hear they are the thing for dirigible travel, and I desire a set that matches my hair, and what do I find? Not a single pair of the appropriate shade. Where are they all?”

“Well, you see, madam, we are currently out of the darker colors. If madam would like to put in an order—”

“No, madam would not like! Madam would like a set of the hairmuffs right this very moment!” At this juncture, Alexia contemplated stamping her foot, but that was probably excessively dramatic, even for this audience.