Louisa stopped to assess the place. Ruth had been right. Pawnbrokers would take anything as collateral. Along the left wall ran a long counter, behind which were numerous shelves filled with a vast collection of items—teacups, plates, remnants of bolts of cloth, silk handkerchiefs, anything a person from any walk of life might own. How many of those items had been pawned and never retrieved because the money that was loaned for them was lost at the gaming tables? She suspected it was far too many.
Thankfully, the two unkempt men exited only moments later. “You see?” Ruth said, glancing over her shoulder. “We’re safe here.”
The proprietor was around forty with dark hair speckled with silver. His coat, unlike his previous patrons, was freshly pressed and brushed. “This is not a millinery,” he said as he looked Louisa and Ruth up and down. “And I don’t have any dresses at the moment if that’s what you’re after.”
“I’m looking for any knives you might have,” Ruth said.
“Knives?” the man repeated. “What do you need knives for?”
Ruth gave an indignant sniff. “I don’t know. To cut my food. What does it matter to you? Will you show me what you have or not?”
Louisa could not help but gape. Why was Ruth being so abrupt with the man? Surely, he would throw them out!
Yet he did not. Instead, he chuckled and said, “There’s no need to be saucy. I just got some in yesterday. Hold on, I’ll be right back.”
Once the man was gone, Louisa turned on Ruth. “Why are you being so hateful to him?”
“Hateful? This is how one conducts business with these types. And because I’m a woman, he’ll try to overcharge me. I want him to know who he’s dealing with straightaway, that way he doesn’t take advantage of me.”
“They’ll do that?” Louisa asked, shocked.
Ruth snorted. “Men live for it.”
“But in the shops we usually frequent, the men are always pleasant. I’ve never been overcharged.”
“There are exceptions, of course. And they have a particular reason for their actions.”
Louisa frowned. “Such as what?”
With a wide grin, Ruth replied, “They believe that if they’re pleasant, they have a chance with you.”
Louisa’s frown deepened. “A chance for what exactly?”
“That you’ll give them one of the kisses you offered Sir Aaron,” Ruth said with a grin. “Rumors do spread, you know.”
Louisa’s cheeks heated with embarrassment. “Ruth! At least show some decorum!” This made her friend laugh all the louder. “Oh, enough of this silliness, please!”
The proprietor returned and set five knives of varying sizes and shapes on the counter.
“Mr. Trout, is it?” Ruth asked. He responded with a nod. “Is it true that you’ll buy anything?”
“Not everything but anything that I can resell at a profit. Though I can’t seem to think of anything that I haven’t been able to resell yet. Have you a horse? A bit of jewelry? Whatever it is, I’ll see what I can do. If you’re looking to make a purchase, I can see if we have a price on which we can agree.”
Ruth picked up a steel-handled blade. “I’m interested in purchasing this knife, but I don’t like the quality of it. In fact, I think you should just give it away.”
To Louisa’s surprise, Mr. Trout laughed. “An excellent way to begin negotiations, miss, but that knife’ll get a crown anywhere.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Ruth replied. “But we’re here, not anywhere else. If you can get a crown for this, then I suggest you get it from someone else. I’ll offer you three pence.”
“Three pence? Are you mad?” he sputtered, although his indignation seemed more a part of the show than true outrage.
Louisa enjoyed watching as the two bartered back and forth. Finally, Mr. Trout raised his hands in defeat. “Fine. Two shillings, but I’ll not go any lower. I gave the man a bob for it in the first place! At least allow me to double my money.”
Ruth grinned. “Agreed.” She stuck out her hand, and Mr. Trout shook it.
Despite her friend’s obvious sense of pride, Louisa wanted to die from embarrassment. Not only had Ruth entered such a shop, but she also had bartered for a knife, of all things. She may as well have been caught kissing a man at a party!
Mr. Trout wrapped the knife in a scrap of burlap, and Ruth placed it in the bag she wore on her wrist, one end sticking out from the top.