“I’ll try to make sure I don’t disappoint you,” I said dryly. “But as you can see, I just got up, so if you don’t mind—”

“You’re wanted downstairs,” she said sourly. “Try to dress appropriately for once.”

“I always dress appropriately,” I started indignantly, and then cut off. Because Agnes had crossed the room, zeroing in on the washstand, and was reaching for the towel.

“What have you got there?”

“Nothing!” I said, and moved to stop her.

But I didn’t stop her.

The pie man did.

I guess he’d gotten tired of waiting for me to reappear in the window, because another of my purchases came shooting through the open space a second later, and nailed Agnes broadside. She went down, I think more out of surprise than anything. And then shot back to her feet, because there was nothing wrong with her reflexes. Her head, on the other hand, was now covered in crust and what looked like—

“I didn’t order eel!” I yelled out the window, only to have to duck because another oily package was incoming.

“What the—” Agnes said from behind me, and then cut off when she got nailed again, full in the face this time.

“Always give a baker’s dozen, me da used to say,” the pie man called up. “That way, they’ll know y’run a proper business.”

“A dozen?” I said, and turned around from staring at Agnes, only to get nailed in my own right.

Damn; I had said one of each.

“What is this?” Agnes demanded, glaring at me.

I swallowed and licked my lips. “Apple?”

She smushed half of a chicken pie in my face, really grinding it in, and then left before I could retaliate.

Not that I wanted to.

I had pie to eat.

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

I emerged into the hallway a while later, freshly scrubbed and wearing an awful, Edwardian era frock, which had been the only thing hanging in the wardrobe. It was a white lace, high-necked, torture device with a too-small waist, especially now. It was also scratchy as hell.

It had been hard to get into with my hurt hand, which had a couple dozen strips of bandages wrapped around it, probably by Gertie. It wouldn’t be the first time she had fixed me up. Pythian training tended to be a little… intense.

Like that, I thought, recognizing the unmistakable sounds of a duel taking place somewhere nearby.