Her face heated, but she had to say it. “Drawers and a chemise.” Having only one pair was a considerable problem, one that would get worse with time and warmer weather. She could do without a corset and a corset cover. Another petticoat would be useful for warmth, but she had one, and that was enough. “More stockings. A blouse or two. Mine is . . .” She hadn’t told him the details of her escape, just that Dima had helped her. “One of the Bolsheviks tore it. Veronika helped me stitch it, but the repair is obvious. I suppose it sounds vain, but . . .” It wasn’t so much the damaged blouse as the memory that came with it. She’d tried to wash it, but blood stained the cuffs. She didn’t want to look at her parents’ blood whenever she extended her wrists or remember Kuznetsov whenever she noticed the repair.
“I can get you another blouse.” His voice had an edge to it. He stood a little closer to her and eyed the crowd. At first, she thought him angry that she hadn’t told him the entire story. If he thought she’d been compromised . . . But he seemed more protective than upset.
Filip led her to one of the larger shacks full of secondhand clothing. “See if you can find something that will fit.”
She sorted through the items until she found a dress and two blouses.
“Would these work?” Filip handed her a wool skirt and another dress.
They looked about the right size. “Yes. Thank you.” She put the dress she’d picked out down. She didn’t want him to have to buy two, and maybe he preferred the one he’d selected. She didn’t care one way or the other. She loved neither. That would be the new normal. She’d once taken great pleasure in new clothing, but there would be no more dresses of damask or velvet in exquisite cuts and daring colors. Now she would blend in, wearing what was practical, warm, and tidy.
Filip stood before the merchant, somehow holding the dress she’d put aside. “I’ll need several pairs of stockings as well. And drawers and chemises.”
As the man presented the items, Filip felt the thickness and checked the ends of the stockings. He motioned her over and took the items she held. “See which of these will fit.” He nodded at the underthings.
There wasn’t a place to try anything on, so she did her best to hold them up and guess. One chemise was stained to a gray-yellow hue under the arms, so she put that one aside. “Any of these others will do.”
Filip put a pile of clothes on the counter. In addition to the skirt and dress he’d picked out, he had the two blouses and dress she’d chosen, a coat, two headscarves, a fur cap, a belt, a hairbrush, two blankets, and a leather attaché case. He added the stockings and underthings and motioned for the shopkeeper. “I’ll take all these, for this.” He held out a pocket watch.
The merchant took the watch and examined it skeptically. “You ask a great deal for one watch.”
“Yes, but it was made by the finest watchmaker in Prague. It keeps excellent time and has gold detailing. See?” Filip pointed to something, but Nadia was at the wrong angle to view the craftsmanship. “And look at the work here.” Filip opened the watch to show the inside.
The merchant considered it. “Yes, it’s a nice piece, but you’ve picked out a lot of clothes.”
“You’re getting the better deal, my friend. If I weren’t in a hurry, I’d sell the watch and go from stall to stall. And I’d get far more by doing it that way. But since you are so convenient, I’m willing to let you have it. It’s a wonderful watch. My grandfather gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday. See how well it’s held up?”
He was trading a watch from his grandfather? That was too much to ask. “Filip, I don’t want you to give up a present from your grandfather for me.” She would have treasured any keepsake from her family—knowledge that she’d allowed someone to steal her brooch still cut deeply, and that hadn’t been anything special.
Filip caught her eye. “I’m not sentimental about it. I just want to receive its full value.”
The merchant weighed the watch in his hand. “How old is it?”
“About eight years.”
“No scratches . . .”
“Hard to believe I carried it through the trenches, isn’t it? It’s extremely durable. Ought to last someone a lifetime.”
The man looked from the clothing to the watch. “The watch for these.” He separated the clothing into two piles and pointed to about two-thirds of the original amount. Nadia was inclined to accept the offer, grateful for anything. But she’d gotten her hopes up that she would have two dresses and two blouses, and a warmer coat. She could make do with less, so she forced her face into a neutral expression. She wouldn’t sully Filip’s generosity by showing disappointment.
Filip chuckled. “All of it, or the deal is off.”
The merchant hesitated. “I’ll give you the entire pile in exchange for your handgun.”
“Not a chance.” All mirth left Filip’s voice. “My weapons are not options for bartering.”