by Lynn Landes
Belinda stares at Savannah and glances at Maxwell with surprise clearly on their faces. “I don’t understand, forgive me,” she turns to her husband and speaks rapidly in French. He replies, and they both look at Dayton for an answer.
“They are asking how someone as lovely as you could have cared for the dead and dying?” he explains.
Savannah’s hand trembles when she reaches for her glass. Dayton steadies her hand, and she smiles at him. “How do I answer that?” Savannah asks him.
“Truthfully, as always,” he replies and gently squeezes her hand.
Savannah nods at him and turns to them, “I trusted the Lord to guide my heart and hands as I cared for the wounded. I provided comfort where I could, and compassion as needed.”
“Did it break your heart to watch them die?” Belinda asks softly.
Savannah gasps softly and Maxwell snaps something in French and Belinda sits back, “Forgive my bluntness.”
“I find it refreshing.” Savannah thinks for a moment before speaking. “It did break my heart, Belinda, but I found strength in the brokenness. It allowed me to view life for the gift that it is,” Savannah replies.
“God used the broken pieces to create a masterpiece,” Dayton says in French. Maxwell and Belinda look at each other, and smile.
“So, he does.”
Savannah frowns at Dayton, but Belinda distracts her.
“Thank you for sharing your experience with us. What are your plans for the morning?” They are warm and welcoming, and Belinda invites Savannah to breakfast and promises an appointment at the La Rue Dress shop.
Belinda walks Savannah to her suite while Dayton and Maxwell go to the bar to discuss plans for the Race Track. Dayton is careful not to watch Savannah leave. He plans to return once she’s asleep in her room.
Chapter 40
Savannah greets Belinda over breakfast in the restaurant the next morning. Dayton was gone before she woke. He left a note, explaining he was going to the docks to watch a race.
“Belinda, I will need your help.”
“Of course, how can I be of assistance?”
“I’ve spent years trying to hide, my hair, my coloring, and it was easy as a nurse. Drab brown uniform, and hair covering. Tonight, I need to stun.” Savannah spends the next few minutes explaining about the investors and her plan to meet them.
Belinda’s smile grows wider with every word. “I know just the person to dress you. We should go, now. Dayton said I was to take you to the shop and that money was no object. I think we should take him up on his generous offer.”
When Savannah starts to object, Belinda loops an arm through hers, “It will pay off. I didn’t design and run this Hotel without knowing how business works. I know how to manipulate a man without them being aware they are being persuaded. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do. Lead the way.”
Savannah is shocked when the driver pulls up at a dress shop in Chicago’s downtown district. “Louis Christian is a relative from France.”
The shop is busy with ladies, and salespeople assisting them.
“Wait here, I will return,” Belinda disappears behind the desk and through a door into the back. Shouting ensues in French before Belinda returns with a good-looking young man dressed in a beautiful suit. He mutters under his breath and points at Savannah.
“Turn,” he snaps. Savannah turns as ordered and Belinda steps beside her.
“That coloring!” Louis frowns.
“Louis, I’d like you to meet Miss Savannah Ward. She’s attending the Gala tonight and needs a dress. It must put all others to shame.”
Louis glares at her, “Cutting it short aren’t you sister?” he snaps.
Savannah smiles, “Sister?” she looks at them and sees the resemblance.
“Oui,” Louis looks at her closer, stepping to release Savannah’s hair, it tumbles from her pin, and he laughs at her shock.
“Louis!” Belinda hisses and shoves him back from Savannah.
“I must see the canvas,” he explains.
Savannah glares at him, ignoring the laughter around her. Slowly she unpins the rest of her hair, releasing a riot of glorious, flame-colored curls to her elbows. “You will not touch me again, without my permission,” Savannah snaps.
“Be careful,” Belinda warns in French. “Dayton Patrick will not take kindly to you manhandling his cousin.”
Louis’ eyes narrow in concentration as he looks at her. “I can see why. Fire equals passion. Forgive me, Miss Ward. I’m swamped with customers, as you can see. Tell me what you need.”
“Tonight, I shall be dancing with the richest men in the world. All with wives, daughters, and even sisters.” Savannah glances at Belinda and smiles. “I imagine they will want to know who dressed me.”
Belinda steps back and watches Savannah with sudden understanding. This woman knows her way through a battlefield. She doesn’t need her help or protection. Dayton is in serious trouble. Cousin, my toe! He’d be a fool if he lets her go.
Louis sits up slowly and stares at Belinda who nods. “Not only that, but I need a breakfast dress, and if you have time, riding attire.”
“This is it, Louis, the opportunity to showcase your talent. Money is no object.”
“Everyone out!” Louis shouts to the stunned shop. “Out, now!” he roars. He snaps orders in French to his three assistants, and they all begin rushing people out of the shop. Once the shop is closed, he turns to offer his arm to Savannah.
“Miss Ward, may I escort you to the sewing room?”
Savannah smiles, “You may.”
Once Savannah is seated, Louis carefully looks at her. His three seamstresses stand back quietly while Belinda sits next to Savannah in a show of support. “Tell me what you envision, Miss Ward.”
“Call me, Savannah, please.” She glances around the room at the lovely dresses hanging on racks and doesn’t see anything that will fit what’s she’s looking for.
“Louis, I’ve stood out all of my life for my hair, as you proved earlier.” Louis shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Unfortunately, God chose to gift me with freckles as well. I’m through hiding. I want to showcase my coloring.” Savannah stands and swiftly starts pulling dresses out and pointing out what she likes and dislikes.
“I want a bold color, one that rivals only the color of my hair. I don’t want a huge skirt, no tassels, ribbons, buttons or bows. I will stand out because of my simplicity, not because of the ornaments. Do you understand?”
Louis grins, “Oui!” excitement ripples through him and he snaps at two of the girls. They run to another room and return with three dresses. He grabs a pencil and starts sketching.
“Tell me more!” he demands.
“I don’t want to look like someone’s draperies with vast puffs of frills, ruffles, or bows.”
“Yes, you are too, short,” Louis snaps.
“Exactly, and no elaborate layers or mountainous folds. Keep it simple.”
Louis leaps up and grabs one of the dresses, “Stand please,” he requests.
He holds up a dress, it’s orange. “No, give me the red,” he orders. He holds up a deep, rich, red and frowns, “Maybe.” Savannah’s eyes are on the third dress. It’s a deep royal blue.
Savannah walks forward and touches the silk gown, “I love the bold color, but it has too many ruffles, layers,” Belinda says.
“Can I try it on?” Savannah asks softly.
“But of course,” Louis replies. “Corset!” he points to one of the girls.
“This way,” one of the girl leads, Savannah into a dressing room and they bring in multiple size corsets and undergarments. Soon Savannah is strapped and cinched into a black lace corset and bustled hoop skirt. When she steps into the dress, she sighs in disappointment. “It’s too small,” she says.
“No, wait. The sides are open,” the seamstress points, “see, we haven’t completed it yet.”
Belinda explains, “Sample dresses are kept on hand, just for
this reason. Last minute fittings. We can add material as needed.”
“This material is perfection,” Savannah says holding the dress up. “It’s a shame about the layers and the puffy sleeves.”
“Let’s see it,” Louis orders from outside.
They follow Savannah out into the dressing area and Louis circles her. He frowns, and grabs the sleeve, pointing out to the seamstress next to him. “Remove the puffy sleeves,” he points again, “strip it down to the original shape, no layers.” Soon all four of them are pulling and snipping threads, releasing layers that were added to the outside of the dress.
Belinda frowns and glances at Savannah. She’s watching with fascination as they work. “Louis, love, what about the neckline. I hate it.”
“I agree,” he moves with a cup of pins and begins to tuck and lower the neckline until it is dangerously low.
“No!” Savannah says gasping and tugging at the dress. “Have you lost your mind?”
Belinda laughs at the look of outrage on Louis’ face, “Savannah, truly, it’s not that low. It just feels that way to you, but I swear there will be much more on display tonight besides your freckles.”
“Stars…” she murmurs.
“What did you say?” Louis demands.
“He calls them my stars,” Savannah says with a haughty tilt of her chin.
Louis throws his hands in the air, and his eyes grow wide with excitement. “That’s it!” He races from the room, to dig around in his mountains of lace. He returns with a bolt of snow-white lace held in his arms, and Belinda runs a hand over it reverently.
“What is it?” Savannah asks.
“De etoile lace,” Louis says, and Belinda translates. “Point of the star lace.”
He hands the bolt to one of the girls, and he turns Savannah to the mirror. “Watch the magic,” Two hours later, Savannah leaves with Belinda and as they settle in the carriage, she says, “I need a drink.”
Belinda laughs, “I agree. They will bring the dress to my room tonight. I’ve arranged for someone to help with your hair. We will dress together. This is going to be magnifique!”
Dayton returns to his room after a day of watching the yacht races. He was able to spread the word about his race and enjoy the event. He has two hours until the Gala. Hopefully, Belinda kept her word and took care of Savannah today.
His suite is empty, disappointing him. The note explains that they will meet at the Gala entrance at seven. Savannah is dressing with Belinda. He’d hoped to have some time to prepare Savannah for tonight. After a bath and dressing, Dayton meets Maxwell in the parlor for drinks and introductions.
They walk into the lobby of the Hotel and Maxwell smiles. “Ah, here they are,” His quick intake of breath has Dayton turning. He almost drops his drink. Belinda is breathtaking in her soft pink ball gown with jewels and floral design, but she doesn’t hold a candle to Savannah.
“Ladies, you look stunning!” Maxwell says and moves to his wife to offer his arm. He guides his wife away, telling her how beautiful she looks and giving them privacy.
Savannah’s gown is a deep royal blue, made of creamy silk with a deep décolletage. Her shoulders are completely bare and unadorned, save her glorious freckles. No jewelry, no ruffles, buttons or layers of material. It is a simple tight, fitting waist, with long sleeves, but the masterpiece is the white ribbon wrapped around her waist, holding a lace train.
“Turn for me, Savannah,” Dayton manages to say. When Savannah turns, he sees the lace is made in a pattern of stars. Her gorgeous red hair is pulled up on the sides with matching silver chains of stars woven through the curls.
“You put the heavens to shame, Miss Ward,” he says. “I’m beginning to think this is a bad idea,” his dark eyes are filled with desire, and he has a sudden urge to grab her and run.
Savannah smiles, “I’m sure you’ll say that again when you receive the bill.”
“Whatever it costs, it will be worth it. The image of you in this dress will be burned in my mind for the rest of my life.” People are beginning to arrive, so Dayton offers her his arm.
“Are you ready for this?” She grins at him and smiles holding her head high.
“I am.”
Belinda walks over with a smile, “Savannah don’t forget your dance card. I took the liberty of filling in the names we discussed.”
“Thank you,” Savannah says and slips the ring over her middle finger. It is a silver filigree guard over beautiful blue paper, with a side mounted pencil. It closes like a small fan for ease of carrying.
Dayton stiffens beside her only just realizing that he will have to act as her chaperone. “Don’t worry, Dayton, you have the first and last dance,” Belinda teases and smiles at him.
“Again, thank you for all of your help today,” Savannah exclaims.
“It has been my pleasure, please enjoy your evening.”
Belinda and Maxwell will be busy playing host and hostess for the evening. Savannah takes a deep breath and glances sideways at Dayton before entering the ballroom. He looks stunning in his black tails and crisp white shirt.
Oddly enough, she isn’t nearly as nervous as she thought she’d be. The process of dressing is almost like putting on a mask. She feels like they will only see the image she presents, not the true person she is beneath it all. Only Dayton has seen that, and he’s still beside her.
The music rises as they line up to step inside. Savannah tries to remember all the rules of etiquette, Belinda drilled into her head this afternoon.
“Never return rudeness with rudeness, sit quietly, speak when spoken too, don’t fidget, flick your hair, or laugh loudly. Don’t cross the floor unattended. Dayton will be the one to escort you on and off the dance floor and to dinner. If you are stood up, use it as a chance to rest. Never dance with the same man more than once.”
“Am I allowed to breathe?” Savannah sasses.
Belinda laughs, “No, definitely not.”
“I want to make Dayton proud, Belinda. He’s helped me in ways you can’t know,” she sighs while they work on her hair.
“Then that’s what you shall do.”
Savannah will never forget the look of desire that rippled through his eyes when he turned to look at her. Smiling she stiffens her spine and rejects the urge to tug at her dress. Dayton escorts her around the Ball-room in a promenade before leaving her in the corner of the room.
Women are trussed and dressed in big, voluptuous ballgowns, and Savannah is thankful she chose the dress she did. Where the other women seem lost in the layers of lace, folds, ribbons, buttons, and bows, Savannah stands out in her bold color and simple design.
Panic flutters for a moment when Dayton bows and walks away. Tonight, is about helping him achieve his dream. “Time to begin,” she murmurs and turns to greet some of the women.
They ask the usual questions, “Who are you wearing? And who escorted you?” Some of them are clearly threatened and aggressive, but Savannah is not here for the same reason they are. “Is your dance card full?” A voice asks, drawing Savannah’s attention. Another woman asks and before she answers a deep voice behind her laughs softly.
“I was about to ask that very question.”
The look on the faces of the group she’s with, informs her of the importance of the moment. Savannah turns lifting her dance card and forces a gentle smile.
“Monsieur Sebastian Medill, may I present, my friend, Miss Savannah Ward,” Belinda smiles.
Savannah curtsies and looks up into a sinfully gorgeous face. He’s tall, blonde and muscular and judging from the reaction of the group she should know who he is.
Sebastian stares at Savannah, and remembers his manners, to the delight of the ladies behind her, he bows. Belinda nods at Savannah, and she holds out her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, Miss Ward. I have the pleasure of first dance with you.”
Savannah smiles and lifts her hand to his. The games begin.
Dayton watches from his corner of the room
. For the next two hours, he watches as Savannah is courted by every rich, eligible bachelor, and his anger grows with every touch. He does his diligence, answering questions about his “cousin” talking about her family horse business and they are duly impressed.
He dances and watches, making sure that Savannah is not shamed, belittled or taken advantage of. His original worry was that no one would ask her to dance, now, thanks to Belinda’s help, that is not a concern.
“Savannah seems to be having a good time,” Belinda says when Dayton takes a break from the dance floor.
Hearing the challenge in her voice, he glances at her and has to force himself to tear his eyes from Savannah. “She certainly does. There will be no living with her after this.” His forced smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Don’t forget that you are escorting her to dinner, make sure you have the last dance. It’s the waltz,” Belinda smiles as her husband returns to fetch her.
“As if I could forget,” he murmurs when she walks away. Savannah spins around the room like a flame, flickering and illuminating every person she comes in contact with.
“Mr. Patrick,” Sebastian Medill walks over and introduces himself to Dayton. “I’ve heard that you have an investment opportunity.” They speak for a few moments and Dayton is shocked to find that he wants to discuss buying shares of the race track. His day at the races is paying off.
“We can discuss it further in the morning over breakfast, if you’re in agreement. I may be running for Mayor, but I also like to invest. From what I hear your track will be just the thing I’m looking for.” Sebastian suggests.
Dayton smiles and glances out to find Savannah moving on to a new partner. He sighs, “I should give my cousin a break, but I look forward to our meeting.”
“Allow me, I’ve been trying to find a way to spend more time with her. She’s lovely.” Sebastian says, watching her fan herself and glances over at Dayton.
“I agree,” he bows, and watches Sebastian skirt the ballroom floor and wait for her to leave the floor.
