Welcome to Charming, where swirling petticoats, the language of flowers, and old-fashioned duels are only the beginning of what is lying underneath…
After a magical attempt on her life in 1877, Queen Victoria launched a crusade against magic that, while tidied up by the Ministry of Magic, saw the Wizarding community exiled to Hogsmeade, previously little more than a crossroad near the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the years that have passed since, Hogsmeade has suffered plagues, fires, and Victorian hypocrisy but is still standing firm.
Thethe year is now 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
Marli felt the warmth in her cheeks indicating a blush as he told her there was no need. She understood his reassurances as to that claim but it still left her feeling a bit out of sorts. She wouldn't push it further though, simply for fear of angering or upsetting him.
However, a smile lit up her face when he mentioned his nieces. She could certainly do as he asked. And if he didn't like what she did have to offer, she could always make something custom for him. Though, that would have to wait for the fog to be lifted so that she could make the proper beads to go with it. Regardless, it was evident on her face the excitement of him accepting her offer.
"Of course!" she all but exclaimed, still smiling brightly, "I have a few left that haven't sold at the previous markets but if those won't do, once this fog is gone I would gladly make something in particular should you chose." She completely missed the remark on purchasing them though, simply grateful he had accepted the offer. "I've missed making the beads," she added as an aside so he wouldn't feel like it would be any sort of trouble for her to actually make something new, "So making a new bracelet would be quite welcome."
His smile echoed her own, and Atticus was pleased that they could reach an accord. He was further pleased to see how thoroughly Miss Johnson had brightened at the very notion—it was as though the weight of the earlier incident had been lifted from her shoulders entirely, though his jacket still rested upon them and, doubtless, her skirts were still a bit sodden.
“It is so rare that they get such a treat—mostly it’s just sweets and the like,” Atticus admitted, “—that I think they would be altogether tickled. Do you or your mother have a premises, or simply work out of the local market?”
Though his jacket still rested around her shoulder, Marli was feeling quite a bit warmer. She doubted her skirts could be dried without the use of magic or taking them off entirely to hang and dry though. Neither was feasible option in that moment though so she'd simply have to make due. She sipped on her warmed milk again before looking to him to respond.
"My parents have a home in Swallowbury they work out of but do most of their sales at the market or by commission," she continued to say, "But I live with my mistress, Miss Bellchant, in her cottage closer to the forest. I sell most of my wares at the market. Which.. hasn't been the most fruitful clearly."
“Lord, don’t I know it!” Atticus laughed. The inn’s taproom was typically busier during the market days, and with the close of the market he had noticed a distinct slowing of business.
“When this accursed fog is lifted, then, I shall be…probably not the first to your booth, but quite prompt.”
Marli finished off the remainder of her milk and smiled brightly at him and his laughter. He was certainly a kind gentleman, one she wouldn't mind getting to know a little more.
"I will look forward to it then," she answered, "The first market once the fog is lifted and we will be there." Shrugging from his coat, she offered it to him. "I think I should be fine returning now, thank you again," she said as she slowly stood up from her chair to prepare to leave.
“You keep it, Miss Johnson—I should hate for you to catch cold when you go back outside,” Atticus complained. He had another serviceable coat at home, and had a Good Feeling™ about the lady’s maid that suggested to him he would, indeed, receive it back once more before long.
Marli smiled a bit meekly but gave a small nod of understanding as she draped the coat around her shoulders once more.
"Thank you, Mr. Sharpe," she said for perhaps the millionth time since encountering him, "I'll look for you at the first Saturday Market as soon as the fog clears. Good luck out there." Still smiling meekly, she gave him a small nod before taking her leave and heading home. Hopefully, this time, without incident.
