Train Through Time Series Boxed Set Books 1-3

by Bess McBride

  “I will be sure to pass those along to her.”

  Ellie noticed he stared at her mouth, and she lifted her napkin to her face.

  “Do I have crumbs on my face?”

  “No, I’m just watching you.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “I was just wondering how they eat in the twenty-first century, but I can see that nothing has changed.”

  Ellie colored, certain that she did indeed have crumbs on her face. She slowed her pace to an occasional nibble.

  “I wonder, Robert...” She hesitated. Such an awkward question.

  “Yes, Ellie?” Robert swallowed the last of his tea and checked his watch.

  “Who is Constance Green?” Ellie studiously examined the piece of toast in her hand. “Are you and she...?”

  “Are we what?” His half smile told her he was being deliberately obtuse.

  “You know. Are you...uh...dating?”

  “Dating?” His dark eyebrows flew up. “Do you mean are we courting?”

  Ellie couldn’t remember. Didn’t they use the word dating in 1901?

  She nodded, her toast suddenly one of the most fascinating objects in the room.

  “Yes, courting.”

  “Why do you ask, Ellie?”

  She gave him an exasperated look. The gleam in his eyes matched the dimples in his cheeks.

  “Just wondering, Robert. Just wondering.” Ellie shrugged with seeming indifference and raised knife and fork to attack a helpless pancake.

  “Constance is an old family friend. Her husband was a friend of mine from college.”

  “Oh. So she’s married.” Relief flooded through her, and she turned to him with a grin.

  He shook his head. “No, Constance is a widow. Her husband died several years ago.”

  Ellie’s spirits drooped again, and she leaned back into her chair and stared at the festive centerpiece of colorful Asiatic lilies. She gave him a speculative look from under her lashes.

  “Why aren’t you married, Robert?”

  Robert burst out laughing. Ellie blushed and glared at him. When he caught his breath, he murmured, “Ellie, that’s not the sort of question we usually ask in polite society.”

  “Well, in my world, we don’t really ask strangers such things either, but since I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, I thought I’d bypass the niceties.”

  He held up a hand. “Don’t remind me, madam. You are just passing through, I believe.”

  “That’s right, mister. Just passing through. So, why aren’t you married?”

  He regarded her with amusement for a moment before answering.

  “It’s hard to say, Ellie. I’ve never asked anyone to marry me. I suppose that would be a fine answer.”

  “Why not?” she drilled. She studied his face over her cup of tea.

  He gave her a harried look and ran a finger around the edge of his collar.

  “Well, it’s difficult to say. I-I have not found someone...suitable.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Suitable?”

  “Em... Yes, suitable.”

  “Really?” She eyed him with skepticism.

  “Yes, really.”

  “And what does suitable mean?”

  His cheeks bronzed and he shook his head with a weak smile. “I am not quite certain, Ellie. The word sounded...suitable.”

  “So, you’re not waiting for someone suitable.”

  “No, most likely not.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?” What a stubborn man!

  He adjusted his tie and consulted his watch once again.

  “Why are you asking me this, Ellie?” His eyes begged for mercy, but Ellie could not relent.

  “I don’t know, Robert. I suppose because you won’t really say. Now, I’m curious, and I can’t seem to let it go.” She chuckled. “It’s awful of me, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he murmured. “It is. You are merciless.” His lips curved in a faint smile. With another check of his watch, he stood up and rested a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. She fought the urge to rub her face against his warmth like a kitten.

  “I must go. I will be back in a few hours. I hope to take you on a tour of the city this afternoon. Would that be acceptable to you? I will speak to Melinda before I leave about some...suitable clothing for you.”

  “Thank you. That sounds wonderful. The tour and the clothing.”

  “Good. We’ll make an afternoon of it. I look forward to it as well.”

  Her shoulder felt suddenly chilled when he lifted his hand. Watching him cross the room, Ellie admired his tall, lean form in the dark suit and the way his well-trimmed hair kissed the edge of his collar.

  He paused at the door and turned slowly, his cheeks still high with color. His gaze flickered beyond her to the window and then back to her face.

  “I suppose I have not married because I have never fallen in love before.” With a sheepish smile, he turned and left the room.

  Chapter Eight

  “What do you think about this?” Melinda held up a dark blue silk skirt. “It goes with this little bolero jacket.” She tossed them on the bed and dragged another outfit from the wardrobe. “Wait. I think this would suit you nicely!” She held up a rose-colored wool skirt and jacket and draped them against Ellie. “This is the one! Do you like it? Put it on. We shall see if it fits.”

  Ellie envied Melinda her youthful enthusiasm. Had she herself ever been that bubbly as a young woman? She thought back over her years of study, long hours in the library with her head stuck between the pages of a book while other girls fell in love and went on dates.

  “Come on, Ellie. If you are shy, I can turn my back.”

  “Thanks, Melinda, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  Melinda, not yet dressed for the day but decidedly attractive in a pale peach and white tea gown, drifted away to sit in a lovely blue brocade chair. She turned her head away.

  “Wait, what about a blouse? Don’t I need a blouse?” Ellie asked.

  Melinda jumped up. “How silly of me. I forgot. Of course you do.” She crossed over to her wardrobe and pulled out a white ruffled creation from a large selection of similar white blouses.

  “Here,” she said as she handed the white batiste blouse to Ellie and sped back to her chair to turn her head toward the wall once again.

  Ellie laid the clothing out on the bed and kept a wary eye on Melinda. She’d hated physical education classes for the very same reason—changing in front of other girls. Melinda kept her head firmly turned away.

  “I do not hear anything, Ellie. Are you changing? You cannot want me to get a crick in my neck, do you?”

  “I’m hurrying...if I can...figure out...how to get this...” Ellie pulled her bulky turtleneck sweater up and over her head and dropped her skirt. She rolled her eyes as she surveyed her undergarments. Why couldn’t she have been blessed with an overnight bag for her dream...or travel...just a small carryall with an extra pair of underwear, a clean, crisp bra, a toothbrush and some deodorant.

  Ellie stepped into the soft rose wool skirt and pulled it up, dismayed at the tight fit over her hips. She suspected she’d have to sit very carefully in order to prevent the seams from ripping. She grabbed the blouse and tussled with the small buttons and extra unidentified material. Ellie tried to remember photos she had seen of the fashions of the time. The extra fabric had to be some sort of bow or tie for the neckline. She slipped into the soft blouse and pushed her arms through the long sleeves which were narrow along the lower arms and wrists but puffed to gigantic proportions at the shoulders and upper arms.

  Ellie giggled. She couldn’t possibly wear this in public.

  “Are you dressed, Ellie?”

  She choked back a gurgle of laughter. “Not yet. One more minute.” Ellie reached for the hooks at the back of the skirt but couldn’t manage.

  “Can you come help me, Melinda? I can’t work these hooks.”

  Melinda turned and jumped up. She began to laugh, this time without hiding it behind her hand. As
frustrated as Ellie was, she responded to the infectious tinkling sound with a grin.

  “Oh, Ellie, you look a fright. Let me see.” Melinda turned Ellie to face her and surveyed her critically. “Well, you must tie the bow of course. What is wrong with the skirt?” She reached for the waistband and tugged. Ellie gasped and sucked in her breath.

  “Oh, dear, Ellie. I am afraid it does not fit. Are you wearing a corset?” Melinda’s cheeks took on a pink tinge.

  Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “A corset? Certainly not!”

  Melinda nodded sagely and stepped back. “Well, I am afraid the skirt will not fit without a corset. It was designed to be worn with a smaller waist. I cannot wear it without a corset. We had better find one for you.”

  “No,” Ellie squeaked, bringing Melinda to an abrupt halt as she headed for the wardrobe. “I-I can’t wear a corset!”

  Melinda turned slowly, tilted her head and regarded Ellie with wide blue eyes. “Why ever not, Ellie? All proper ladies wear corsets. Even grandmother.”

  Ellie wanted to sink into a chair, but the tightness of the skirt prevented it. She bit her tongue against her first instinct to rant about the sexism of squeezing a female form into a binding corset as she studied Melinda’s innocent face. It seemed obvious that women perpetuated their own fashion crimes...especially among the upper classes.

  “I-I don’t think I can squeeze into one.”

  Melinda’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you have never worn a corset, Ellie? How is that possible?”

  Ellie bit her lip. “Umm...we just don’t wear corsets where I come from, Melinda.”

  “Really?” Her eyes almost popped.

  “Really.” Ellie nodded.

  “Well, that is just not possible here. You must wear one, certainly if you want to get into any of my clothes. They are all designed to be worn with a corset.” She moved toward her wardrobe. “And you want to go out in the carriage and see the city today with Robert, don’t you?”

  The thought of spending more time in Robert’s company clinched the deal. Ellie suspected Melinda might have great success selling used cars.

  “All right,” Ellie sighed. “Then I think I’m going to need...umm...”

  “You will need a chemise and a corset cover and several petticoats.” The fashion crisis averted, Melinda bustled around importantly, pulling white garments from drawers. “I had better summon my maid, Alice, to help.” She handed Ellie the soft white underclothing and crossed the room to pull on a small cord hidden near the curtains.

  Ellie stared at the pile of clothing in her hand, uppermost of which was a dauntingly heavy and stiff corset with deceptively soft and feminine pink ribbons.

  “How am I going to wear all this underneath, when I can’t even squeeze into the skirt as it is?”

  Melinda crossed her arms and regarded Ellie with a matronly expression.

  “You will manage. We all manage.”

  A tap on the door heralded the arrival of a petite maid dressed in the ubiquitous plain gray servant’s dress. Ellie eyed her with suspicion. It seemed obvious that the tiny, freckle-faced, redheaded maid had never had to wear a corset in her life.

  “Yes, miss?”

  “Alice, could you please help Miss Standish into these garments? I am going downstairs to have some tea and breakfast while you dress.” She moved toward the door. “Oh, and could you dress her hair? An upsweep. You know what to do, Alice.”

  Alice bobbed at the closing door and turned to Ellie. Ellie held up a hand to ward her off. “Wait, Alice. Just a minute. I can get into the...um...undergarments by myself. Could you just turn around for a minute while I put them on?”

  “Yes, miss.” Alice’s brown eyes popped, but she rotated and faced the wall.

  Ellie managed first to extricate herself from the tight clothing and then slipped out of her bra and underwear, promising to give them a good washing in the bathroom sink when she returned to her room.

  She sorted through the undergarments and pulled out something that remotely resembled pictures of a chemise. She shook the simple white linen garment out and slipped it over her head. Conscious of a draft on her nether regions, she grabbed a pair of drawers and slipped them on, knowing she would never be able to return these intimate garments to Melinda. But one look at the clothing spilling from Melinda’s wardrobe suggested she would hardly miss a few things.

  With still more white lacy undergarments in her hand, Ellie drew a blank.

  “Okay, Alice, I’m lost. What is this thing?”

  Alice turned and blinked. She moved forward hesitantly.

  “Why, it’s a corset cover, miss. It goes over the corset.”

  “So, what do I put on next?”

  “The corset, miss. I can help you with that.”

  If Alice had questions, as her wide-eyed look suggested, she was too polite to ask.

  “If you would raise your arms, miss.”

  Alice took the beribboned corset and wrapped it around Ellie’s waist. Ellie instinctively sucked her stomach in and straightened.

  “I’m just going to tighten it now,” Alice murmured.

  As Ellie felt the corset begin to mold to her body, she noticed her upper torso pushed forward while her rear bent backward. Something was seriously wrong. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Wait, Alice, wait.” Ellie took a shallow breath and murmured. “Is this thing on straight? I’m practically bent over.”

  “Yes, miss, that’s the way it is supposed to look. It’s an S-bend corset. All the ladies wear them.”

  Ellie twisted her neck to quirk an eyebrow at Alice.

  “I don’t think you have one on, do you, Alice?”

  Alice’s face turned pink. “Me? Oh no, miss. The servants don’t wear them.” She began to pull again. “Actually, I think only the wealthy ladies wear them.”

  “You must be kidding. Why, for Pete’s sake?”

  “Why...to look beautiful, ma’am. With small waists and rounded... Well, you know what I mean. I wish I could wear one. They’re so pretty.”

  Ellie grunted. “I can’t breathe. Can you loosen it?”

  “No, miss. This is as loose as I can make it. You will get used to it. Miss Melinda used to cry when she first started wearing her corsets, but she doesn’t any more. Are you ready for the petticoats?”

  “I feel like a pigeon. My chest is sticking out.” Ellie tried desperately to straighten but the corset kept her bent. “Petticoats? There’s more than one?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Alice helped her step into not one but two white linen petticoats adorned with lace and light blue ribbons. Ellie thought it a shame no one would ever see the beautiful undergarments.

  Finally, Alice helped her into the original rose-colored tailored skirt, which she now cinched closed at the waist with ease. Alice grabbed the blouse and slipped it over Ellie’s shoulders. She buttoned the blouse, tucked it inside the waistband of the skirt and tied a decorative bow at the neck.

  “Should we do your hair before we put the jacket on? Do you have shoes, miss?”

  Unable to bend her ribcage to see her feet, Ellie stuck out a bare toe.

  “Oh, dear. You need shoes, stockings and garters. Let me see if Miss Melinda has anything. You may have the same size feet.” Alice moved away to the magic cupboard and pulled out a pair of silk stockings and a set of little black boots.

  “You’d better have a seat here, and I’ll put these on. I’m sorry, miss. I should have helped you put these on earlier. We’re going about this backward.” She busied herself pulling up the stockings and sliding garter belts up to Ellie’s thighs.

  Ellie’s face flamed at the intimacy. “That’s all right, Alice. It was my fault. I put on the undergarments out of sequence, I think.”

  Alice tied the boots and stood back. Ellie held out a helpless hand. Alice grinned and pulled her up.

  “There, now. You look lovely, ma’am. How do you feel?” She pulled Ellie toward a white-painted dressing table crown
ed by a charming oval mirror. Ellie sank onto the small blue velvet stool, doing her best to sit as straight as an S-bend corset would allow.

  “I’m miserable, Alice, but thank you for all your hard work.”

  “It will get easier, miss,” Alice murmured. “Don’t you worry. Women dress this way every day.” She undid Ellie’s braid and began to brush her long hair with a silver-backed brush in long, soothing strokes. Ellie had a quick recollection of her mother brushing her hair in just that way before bedtime.

  A knock on the door brought Melinda back into the room. Ellie looked at her in the mirror, gaining a new respect for the uncorseted tea gown she wore.

  “You look beautiful, Ellie, absolutely beautiful.” She flitted across the room and pulled a small, rose velvet chair next to Ellie. “How do you feel?”

  Ellie gave her a wry smile. “As I mentioned to Alice here...miserable. I can’t believe you wear all these clothes every day.”

  Melinda sighed. “I know.” She brightened. “Still, it certainly displays your tiny waist to perfection.”

  Ellie tried to glance down at her so-called “tiny waist,” but Alice had a mass of hair in her hand which prevented any movement.

  “Mmmmm, thank you.”

  “Tell me about Chicago, Ellie. That is where you come from, isn’t it? How is it they do not wear corsets in Chicago? I thought it a truly modern city...much like Seattle.”

  Ellie tried to regress a hundred years.

  “Oh, I’m sure they do, Melinda. I-I don’t wear them, but I think many women do.”

  “Hmmm...only the working class does not have to wear...” In the mirror, Ellie saw Melinda bite her lip and blush. “Well, never mind. I know so little about you. Are you married? Do you have family? Where are they? Do they miss you?”

  Ellie concentrated on remembering the sequence of questions in the bubbly barrage.

  “Wait, let me see. No, I don’t have family, my parents passed away several years ago. I’m not married yet, and I doubt if my fiancé misses me—” Ellie froze, her heart in her throat. Maybe Melinda missed it. She didn’t.

  “Your fiancé? Are you to be married then?” Melinda’s blue eyes popped and she clapped her hands. “How exciting! What is his name? When?”