Bride in Blue

Home > Other > Bride in Blue > Page 8
Bride in Blue Page 8

by Christine Sterling


  Now she knew why. It was addictive.

  His lips pressed against hers, and she felt his beard tickle her chin. He broke the kiss and looked at her. Cassie saw his eyes looked like molten gold.

  She wondered if he could hear her heart beating out of her chest. He leaned down to give her another quick peck when there was a knock on the door.

  Max let her go. “You should probably start heating up bath water. We need to be there at 5 o’clock sharp.” The knock sounded again. “I’ll go get that.” He took a few steps backwards before turning on his heel and disappearing out of the room.

  Cassie lifted the dress back up. It was everything she hoped for and more. A long skirt with extra fabric that could be tied up in a bustle. The collar and the cording around the sleeves was dark blue velvet, which was a stark contrast to the light blue fabric.

  She picked up the box to store her cut fabric in, and was heading up to her room to get washed when she heard the Scottish brogue carry through the hallway.

  “Maximillian Blue, what is this I hear about ye livin’ here with a woman ye t’arn’t married to?”

  Cassie stood in front of Reverend Bing. She was wearing the blue dress that Max had given her. It fit perfectly, and she felt beautiful as the blue fabric hugged her.

  Mrs. Brown and her father stood off to the side as witnesses. Once the ceremony was over, they would head to the theater for the performance.

  Max tried to explain that there were chaperones living at the house, but Reverend Bing insisted that Max do the honorable thing. He expected to see them at the church before heading to the theater.

  She quickly bathed and dressed herself in her new dress. Mrs. Brown assisted her in curling her hair. It hung in ringlets down her back instead of up as she normally would wear it. She even let Cassie borrow her rouge, blending a little dab into each cheek and on her lips.

  Her father found her some flowers for a small bouquet. Turns out he picked them from the garden next door.

  The woman was naturally upset, but when he explained he didn’t realize it was her bush (since it straddled both small yards) and explained the purpose, she was more than hospitable to offer up some other flowers as well.

  She had never seen her father looking so fine. He wore a dark suit with velvet lapels and collar. His pants were a light brown, and he even had a new pair of boots that shined so bright she could see her reflection in them.

  But he was nothing compared to the man about to become her husband. Max changed into a white shirt and a dark jacket with matching pants. He had a cravat she recognized as being in the last shipment from New York.

  Cassie passed her flowers over to Mrs. Brown so Max could take her hand. “You look beautiful,” he said to her.

  “I feel beautiful.” Cassie repeated the vows and watched as Max slid a simple gold band on her finger.

  When the ceremony was done, he leaned down and placed a kiss on her lips, signifying they were now married. Her father gathered them both up in an embrace.

  “Congratulations, girlie. I couldn’t be happier for you.” He planted a kiss on Cassie’s cheek and shook Max’s hand.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a lovelier bride,” Mrs. Brown said, handing Cassie back her flowers. Max took them to dinner before the theater performance.

  They arrived just before the overture. Cassie had only heard about the theaters in New York. No one she knew had ever been to a theater performance before.

  The theater was everything she imagined. Plush seats, velvet curtains with gold brocade. Paintings on the ceiling. Max handed the doorman their tickets, and another man guided them to their seats.

  Cassie sat in her seat and took everything in. She watched Max pull out his handkerchief and wipe off the seat before sitting down.

  “What?” he asked her. “I don’t want to get my pants dirty. He wrapped the soiled linen around his hand three times before placing it back in his pocket.

  “The play will begin shortly.”

  “Do you know what it is about?”

  “I had to read it for school. It is about a set of young lovers who are kept apart by familial drama. But they insist on being together at the last.”

  The curtain went up, and the players took the stage. Cassie watched as the characters brought to life the story of Romeo and Juliet.

  By the end of the play she was sobbing and when the curtain fell, she joined many of the other patrons who stood with resounding applause.

  When the lights were lit, Max asked her, “Would you like to go backstage and meet everyone?”

  Cassie grabbed his hand. “Can we?”

  Max nodded. “I know the stage manager from New York. I provided fabrics to the theater.”

  Mrs. Brown and her father remained seated, saying they would wait for them to return. Cassie could see her father’s leg was bothering him. Going up and down the steps to the stage below would do more harm than good.

  Cassie gave a little wave and took Max’s hand as he led her to the area behind the stage. “Maximillian,” a man cried, coming over to kiss Max on each of his cheeks. The man was dressed in one of the costumes for the play.

  “Jacques. Let me introduce you to my wife, Cassandra. Cassie, this is Jacques Martin.”

  “Madame,” the actor said, bowing extravagantly over Cassie’s hand, kissing it before releasing it. “How did you enjoy the performance?”

  “Very much so.” Cassie threw her arms in the air and twirled. “I have never seen anything so beautiful. I laughed, I cried. It was just delightful.”

  “You have chosen wisely, my friend,” Jacques said, clapping Max on the back. “She is beautiful and passionate!”

  “That she is,” Max said looking at her. Cassie blushed under his praise.

  “I know this was a pre-performance, I think Max called it. How does that differ from a regular one?”

  Jacques took Cassie’s arm and led her through the actors decked out in their various costumes. “It is where we can practice before an audience in a theater we’ve never seen before. It allows us to make any modification, such as the placement of props and the like.”

  “Jacques,” the actress who played Juliet interrupted them. “Hugo stepped on my gown again. Look at this.” She swung her skirt around and Cassie could see where the lace separated from the fabric.

  “Amy, no one will notice from the distance. Since we don’t have anyone who can sew, we just need to do our best until we get to California. Now be gone, I’m showing our guest around.” Jacques dismissed the actress with a wave of his hand.

  “What do you mean you don’t have anyone who can sew?” Cassie asked.

  Jacques patted her hand. “Our seamstress left. Ran off with someone in Kentucky. We have a pile of costumes that need to be mended and no one to do it.”

  “How long are you in town?”

  “About a month. Maybe longer. We are doing three shows a week for the next three weeks. Why? What are you thinking?”

  Cassie looked at Max. “I know someone who can help you get those costumes fixed while you are in town.”

  “You do? That would be marvelous. Who?”

  “Max.”

  “Max?” Jacques laughed.

  “What?” Max said at the same time.

  Cassie smiled. “Did you know that Max’s haberdashery employs two of the finest tailors in all of New York City? I’m sure we can get the job done for you.”

  Chapter 9

  “Maybe I bit off a bit more than I could chew,” Cassie said looking at the pile of fabrics and costumes that were delivered to Max’s house. There wasn’t enough room at the haberdashery so now Max’s office, the dining room and sitting room were taken over by costumes needing to be repaired.

  “Perhaps you did. I still don’t know what possessed you to offer to fix those costumes.”

  “I thought it would be a good way to expand the haberdashery. Just think, Max. They will tell their other theater friends and soon we will have work from all
over. Theaters that are passing through, will know that they can get costumes fixed when they are in Creede.”

  “It also will give your father something to do.” Hal had been spending more time with Mrs. Brown.

  “I totally agree,” Cassie said. “Besides, the money can go to expanding the shop.”

  Max scratched his head. “I suppose.”

  “I wish…,” Cassie said.

  “Wish what?”

  “I just wish I had a sewing machine. It would definitely help Father’s fingers, and we could get things done so much faster than hand sewing. We had one in New York, but we had to sell it when Momma died.”

  “A sewing machine? That I can do. I think there was one at the mercantile in the back. It had been sitting there for ages.”

  “Oh really, Max? That would be wonderful.” Cassie quickly jumped up and planted kisses on his cheeks.

  “Let me see what I can do. Do you need anything else while I’m out?”

  Cassie thought about it. “No, that’s alright.” She didn’t want to make demands on him now that they were married. Granted it had only been a week since they were married, but she recalled wives in New York demanding things from their husbands all the time. It turned those husbands into bitter men. She didn’t want to be married to someone who would grow to resent her.

  Max nodded. He gave Cassie a kiss on the cheek and headed out the door.

  It was nearly two hours later when Max came back inside carrying a sewing machine and a box with a string on it.

  Cassie’s eyes lit up as she took the box and watched Max set the machine on the dining room table. “They had two. I purchased both of them. The other one will be delivered to the shop tomorrow. That one has a table, so it was too heavy for me to carry.”

  “I certainly hope that isn’t going to stay there,” Mrs. Brown said, coming into the dining room.

  “I’m not sure where else we could put it,” Cassie said.

  Max thought for a moment. “I guess you can use my desk.”

  “Oh, Max. We’ve already put you out so much. Your office is all you have left.”

  Max shrugged his shoulders. “Who would have thought that a month ago I was living alone in this house? Now I have a wife, a father-in-law and a housekeeper. Even Mr. Gladstone appears happier.”

  Cassie laughed. “As long as the cat is happy, I guess nothing else matters, does it?”

  “You children and your talk of animals like they belong in the house,” Mrs. Brown said, picking up the boxes of notions.

  “Wait,” Cassie said. “That looks like a pastry box.”

  “It is,” Max replied taking the box from Mrs. Brown and passing it back to Cassie. “Maybelle has been trying to perfect a chocolate cake recipe, so she sent samples over to try. She said for you to be sure to stop by the bakery and visit sometime.”

  “I guess we can get everything moved first,” Mrs. Brown replied. “And I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.”

  Cassie put the cake box on a sideboard and then took the other boxes from Mrs. Brown. “I’ll follow you to your office, Max.”

  Max picked up the sewing machine and led Cassie to a room on the other side of the house. Her father was sitting on a settee examining a pair of pants.

  “This fabric is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “It has more silk than other fabrics,” Max said.

  “Really?”

  Max nodded. “That is just a sample. My supplier in Boston sent it to me.”

  “It really has such a regal feel to it.” He turned one of the legs inside out. “The sewing is impeccable. You can see that they bound the fabric before actually sewing it together.”

  “Father, Max brought us a sewing machine.”

  Her father looked up. He was wearing magnifying glasses and his eyes looked double their normal size as he blinked at her. “A sewing machine?” he repeated.

  Cassie nodded. Max set the machine down on the desk. “Let me just gather up this correspondence and then the desk will be yours.”

  Cassie placed the boxes down on the floor next to the desk and started gathering up the papers closest to her. As she was putting them in a pile, an envelope fell from the desk and drifted to the floor by her feet. It appeared unopened.

  Cassie leaned down and the logo on the corner caught her attention. She blanched as she read the words underneath. Weston Fabrication, New York City, New York. Cassie gave little cry and dropped the envelope to the ground. Why would Max be receiving a letter from Mr. Weston?

  “Are you alright,” Max asked, looking at her with concern.

  Cassie composed herself and picked the letter back up, sliding it between the papers in her hand. “Just being clumsy I suppose.” She handed the papers to Max. “Here you go, I think we have enough room.”

  “There is no need for me to bring up the past.”

  “You need to tell him. He’ll find out at some point.”

  Cassie glared at Mrs. Pennyworth. The woman was sitting at the table in the haberdashery admiring some new ribbons that just arrived. Cassie moved around the store, dusting the shelves, ignoring her guest. “Cassandra, he can help you if you just let him.”

  “He has already helped me. He married me, and I will never have to worry about that horrible man again.”

  “If you don’t talk to your husband, at least talk to your father.”

  “That man threatened to send my father to prison! Or worse, the asylum.”

  “Perhaps there is something more?” Mrs. Pennyworth asked. She wandered over to the notions cabinet and started pulling out drawers.

  “What are you looking for?” Cassie placed her hand on her hip. The duster giving her the appearance of a feathered tail.

  “Here they are.” She took three pearl buttons and placed them on top of the cabinet. “My Henry had a shirt with these buttons.” She sighed. “I really do miss him so much.”

  “I am so sorry. How did he pass?”

  Mrs. Pennyworth looked at her. “He had angina pectoris. Or at least that is what they called it. Doctors said his heart gave out. Turns out mine did too. Right there at his funeral.”

  “That explains the mourning clothes.”

  “Yes. This is what I was wearing when I passed.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Pennyworth, I am so sorry.”

  “It simply means I couldn’t go on without him. So, I’m glad to have these little reminders. His buttons remind me that everything will work out for the best.” She fingered the buttons. Suddenly Mrs. Pennyworth stood straight and looked at Cassie. “But this doesn’t help you, Cassandra. I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for why Maximillian had a letter from Mr. Weston.”

  “I’m almost afraid to find out.”

  “Well you won’t know unless you ask.”

  The sound of the door opening caused Cassie to look away for a moment.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said, looking toward the door. It was Jacques from the theater.

  “Think about what?” Jacques asked walking over to the display of jackets.

  Cassie turned back to the notions cabinet. Mrs. Pennyworth was gone, but the three buttons remained on the top of the cabinet.

  Max couldn’t believe what just happened.

  When Cassie told him that Jacques was going to bring the entire theater troupe to the haberdashery that evening, and requested he keep the store open later, Max nearly scoffed.

  Theater people were not known for spending money frivolously. They didn’t get paid much, and right now the profit the troupe did make was going to pay Cassie and her father to fix the costumes.

  However, Max consented, and the shop was open after hours just for these special customers.

  Cassie even went as far as to bring cookies over from the bakery and had Mrs. Honeycutt brew one of her special blend of teas and poured it in all Max’s available terracotta jugs.

  The actors fawned over the jackets available. Jacques loved the pants with a little bit of silk i
n them and asked Max to order him at least half-a-dozen pairs. He would pick them up on the return trip from San Francisco.

  By the time he was done pricing and wrapping up purchases, the store looked like a cyclone had hit it. Probably a natural look, given there were nearly twenty people shopping in the store at once.

  Clothing items were strewn around on the tables, jackets had fallen off their hangers in the armoire, crumbs littered the floor where the customers gobbled up cookies. Max thought he was going to scream.

  Cassie reassured him that they could put everything back the way it was. “But think of how much you sold this evening?”

  Max conceded. In one evening, they sold nearly half of what he had done the year before. But money wasn’t everything. He wanted order. He wanted the shop cleaned up. He wanted the crumbs off the floor. He wanted Cassie.

  He looked at his wife. He couldn’t believe what a whirlwind his life had become since she entered it. She ran right over rules and order and had managed to worm her way into his heart.

  He thought he may have fallen in love with her after Reverend Bing’s sermon on the Song of Solomon. He had no doubt he was on his way by the time he offered to take her to the theater. He was madly in love with her when they became man and wife, and now he knew that the type of love he had was going to be long lasting.

  Because where he would normally be agitated at the mess in front of him, Cassie kept him calm. Even though he hadn’t said the words, he hoped she felt them.

  He pulled his wife into his arms and gave her a kiss with every ounce of passion he had. When he broke it, she looked at him with a soft expression. Her lips were swollen, and he resisted the urge to kiss her again. He cleared his throat, “How about we start with the notions cabinet?”

  Cassie nodded and Max took her hand, moving to the wooden cabinets that held thread, wax and other sewing sundries. “Did you do this?” he asked, noting the three buttons on top of the cabinet.

  Cassie shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

 

‹ Prev