by Jen Turano
“Is that your mother?” Beatrix asked.
“It is, and also my father. Would you care to meet them?”
“It would be rather rude if I didn’t.”
Norman frowned. “I suppose you’re right, but after the day you’ve already had, I’m not sure you’re up for meeting my mother. She can be somewhat difficult at times.”
“I’ve dealt with more than my share of difficult ladies” was all Beatrix said to that.
Knowing it would be futile to argue with her, even though Norman was relatively sure Beatrix had never encountered anyone like his mother before, he turned his gaze on his parents, finding them speaking to Theo, who was looking quite unlike herself.
Gone was the drab gray walking dress she often wore, replaced with a green walking dress in exactly the same style that Theo had recently shown him in a fashion magazine. On her head was a jaunty hat with a single feather attached to it, the hat angled in a way that drew attention to short curls that no longer looked singed, but vibrant.
Stanley, Norman couldn’t neglect to notice, was beaming at Theo, suggesting that even though he’d stated the old Theo was perfect, he wasn’t finding much to object to about her new appearance.
“Can we finally get this boat into the water?” Gemma bellowed, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Let me get Gemma and Oscar settled, then I’ll introduce you,” Norman said when he realized Gemma and Oscar were in the process of pulling their peddle-boat into the water. Gemma slipped and tumbled into the water, her flotation device causing her to immediately bob to the surface.
“It’s far too chilly, Gemma, for you to be taking a swim,” Constance called, catching up with Norman as he hurried to the lake. She caught his eye and grinned. “Is that your Beatrix back there?”
“She’s not my Beatrix, not exactly, but yes,” Norman returned, frowning when he realized Gemma was beginning to bob her way out into the lake, which had him running for the water. After helping Gemma out of the water and on to the seat of the peddle-boat while Oscar scrambled in of his own accord, Norman turned and found little Christopher looking forlorn.
“I’ll take you out next, Christopher,” he said, earning a grin from his nephew. Giving the boat a push, he reminded Gemma and Oscar that they were to keep to the shoreline, then stepped back as they drifted away.
A second later, they were giggling in delight, pedaling like mad, their giggles increasing when the boat began chugging away, clearly working.
“I think we might have a situation over there,” Constance suddenly said, waving a hand to where he’d left Beatrix.
Trepidation settled over him when he turned and discovered his mother advancing on Beatrix, determination in her every step.
“That is, indeed, a situation,” Norman said right before he broke into a run, hoping he’d be able to intercept his mother before she did something unfortunate, such as convince Beatrix it would be in her best interest to maintain her distance from him.
Chapter 30
“I see you’ve decided to wear one of your gowns from Worth to the ball tonight.”
Beatrix swiveled around on the stool, immediately regretting it when Mamie, who’d volunteered to style Beatrix’s hair because Blanche and a few of the other women had gone off to Theodosia’s house to get her ready for the ball, pulled her hair. Beatrix smiled at the sight of Aunt Gladys gliding into the room. Her aunt was looking resplendent in a gown of palest ivory, the diamond choker encircling her neck matching the diamond bracelets on her wrist.
“You’re looking very well turned out tonight, Aunt Gladys, but you’re not wearing a turban,” Beatrix said.
Aunt Gladys gave a pat to hair that was a beautiful shade of strawberry blond, done up in a sophisticated chignon, a sparkling tiara adding a touch of sophistication.
“I’ve only been wearing turbans so often because Blanche made a bit of a miscalculation with her ingredients when she attempted to return my hair to its natural color.” Aunt Gladys nodded to Beatrix’s hair. “I once had hair exactly your shade, but over time it faded. Blanche was certain she could recreate the color, but disaster ensued, and I ended up with bright orange instead of red.”
“I thought you and the rest of the women were wearing turbans as some sort of fashion statement,” Beatrix said.
Aunt Gladys grinned. “I’m sure the turbans were some sort of statement, although fashionable isn’t what I’d consider them.” She turned her grin on Mamie. “It was delightful, though, how all of you started wearing turbans as well, Mamie, as a way to support me and make Blanche feel better until she rectified her mistake.”
As Mamie returned the grin, Beatrix frowned. “Why did Blanche stop you from answering me when I questioned you about the turbans a few weeks back?”
“She didn’t think Theodosia would be keen to allow her near that disaster Theodosia was sporting on her head if she learned Blanche was notorious for creating disasters of her own.”
“I suppose that does make sense,” Beatrix said, turning front and center again, which had Mamie releasing a huff. “Sorry, Mamie. I moved again.”
“Lucky I wasn’t wielding the hot tong just yet,” Mamie muttered. “But I expect you to sit perfectly still from this point forward because while I’m capable of styling hair, I’ve never styled hair for anyone going to a fancy ball before. If you don’t want to look like one of the performers at the dance hall where I used to work, I suggest you cooperate.”
“Honestly, Mamie,” Aunt Gladys began, “by the snippiness in your tone, I’m getting the distinct impression you’re still put out over not attending the ball tonight.”
Mamie picked up the hot tong, which Beatrix wasn’t certain she should be doing if she was in a put-out frame of mind, and all but attacked Beatrix’s hair with it. “How could I not be put out?” Mamie demanded, before she began counting under her breath, stopping at fifteen to uncurl the piece of hair she’d been working on before moving to another. “I’m sure I would adore attending this ball, and yet, instead of preparing myself for an evening of frivolity, I’ve been recruited to get Beatrix looking shipshape—not that I mind helping you, Beatrix. You’ve been more than delightful to me ever since you arrived at your aunt’s house.”
Beatrix suddenly smelled something burning. “I think it’s been over fifteen seconds.”
“Oh yes,” Mamie said with a wince before she uncurled the piece of hair wrapped around the tong. She winced again as she gave the curl a bit of a fluff. “Don’t think I scorched it too much.”
Beatrix’s eyes widened. “Most people don’t want to hear the word scorched when it comes to their hair.”
“No one will be able to tell. I’ll just tuck the scorched part underneath another curl.”
“That’s hardly reassuring.”
Mamie ignored her and turned to Aunt Gladys. “You could have taken me as your guest this evening instead of Edgar. He attends balls with you often, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded sitting this one out so that I was given a chance to attend. He’s considerate that way.”
“And clearly you feel I’m not considerate.”
“That has crossed my mind a time or two,” Mamie muttered as Aunt Gladys settled herself into a chair, shaking her head.
“It’s because I am considerate that I didn’t invite you to join me,” Aunt Gladys argued. “You’ve only recently abandoned a life that had you working in a dance hall. We’ve barely scratched the service of the etiquette rules that are required for anyone attending a formal affair, which means you’re nowhere near ready to don a ball gown and mingle with society. You’ve much to learn, patience being at the top of that list.”
Mamie set aside the tong. “That’s your advice? To be patient?”
“Patience is a virtue.”
“So says the woman who’s been waiting years for Edgar to figure out there’s nothing wrong with marrying his employer.” Mamie began gathering Beatrix’s curls on the top of her head. “If you ask me, your p
atience with him might not amount to anything if he never comes around to admitting he holds you in a great deal of affection.”
Aunt Gladys leaned forward. “You believe Edgar holds me in affection?”
“The man has worked for you for over thirty years,” Mamie shot back. “And in case you’ve neglected to realize, you’re not always that pleasant to be around. You’re very set in your ways, you’re bossy, and, well, I could go on and on, but I don’t want to annoy you overly much since I do appreciate you giving me a home to live in, which does speak well of your generous nature.”
“My generous yet unpleasant and bossy nature,” Aunt Gladys muttered, earning a grin from Mamie.
“Exactly, but my point was that, because you’re rather flawed, Edgar obviously must hold you in great affection. Otherwise, why would he have stayed with you all these years?”
“I pay him a more-than-generous salary.”
“Which could be one reason he stayed,” Mamie admitted, “but I imagine it’s because he cares for you.”
“An encouraging thought to be sure, but enough about Edgar and me.” Aunt Gladys nodded to the gown Beatrix was going to wear that night. “May I assume you’ve chosen Worth to wear for a reason other than it’s a spectacular gown and you’re certain to look enchanting in it? Perhaps as a form of armor against all the tongues that will certainly be wagging about you this evening?”
Beatrix smiled. “All the gowns I brought with me are from Worth. They’d only recently arrived from Paris before Mother sent me packing. I wasn’t certain what to expect with you in Chicago, but thought I might as well bring a few of my new gowns just in case I had need of them.”
“Bet you never considered that I’d send you out to work once you got here.”
“Never entered my head, but I don’t believe I’ve thanked you nearly enough for suggesting I take on a position. I certainly have a new appreciation for the working woman and the daily trials she faces. I’m also certain that appreciation will assist me greatly as I go forward with my work with the suffrage movement.”
Aunt Gladys nodded. “There’s much work to be done, and I think that if the two of us combine efforts, we’ll be able to help women get the resources they need, such as attorneys and the like.”
“I’m hopeful my parents will be as encouraging when I tell them I’ve decided to put some of my fortune to good use to fund that endeavor.”
“I’m sure Annie will be delighted about your future plans, especially since providing resources to women in need is less likely to see you arrested as often as you would be if you merely continued attending rallies like you did in New York.”
“I bet Beatrix’s mother would be more delighted to learn her daughter has attracted the notice of Mr. Norman Nesbit,” Mamie interjected before she released a dramatic sigh. “I have to think Norman made a most splendid figure as he raced to your rescue at the lake the other day, after his mother began interrogating you about why you were interested in her son.”
“His intervention was certainly a chivalrous gesture,” Beatrix agreed before frowning. “Although I don’t believe he helped the situation with his mother when, after he realized she was accusing me of using my feminine wiles on him because I was interested in his fortune, he told her to have a care with how she spoke to me because I was going to become part of the family someday.”
“A declaration of his future intentions if there ever was one,” Aunt Gladys said with a nod. “Why, if you ask me, that was almost a proposal of marriage.”
“It did come across that way, although Norman and I have yet to discuss the matter in detail. In actuality, he’s not said another thing about it since his mother stormed off that day.”
“That was over a week ago,” Aunt Gladys pointed out.
“True, but Norman has yet to broach the subject, and since he is the one who made that declaration, I believe he should be the one to clarify what he meant.”
“I’ll have a word with him,” Aunt Gladys said briskly. “Norman probably doesn’t grasp the importance of clarifying what he meant.”
Beatrix’s eyes widened. “Oh, there’s no need for you to—”
“There’s every need,” Aunt Gladys interrupted. “And I’ll be happy to intervene.”
“I believe it’s time to get me dressed,” Beatrix said firmly, rising from the stool to move to where she’d laid out her unmentionables. Picking up a silk stocking, she drew it up her leg and secured it with a garter. After doing the same with her other leg, she handed Mamie her corset, which Mamie pulled around Beatrix’s light chemise, pulling far too rigorously on the laces.
“I can’t breathe,” Beatrix muttered.
“But your waist looks amazing,” Mamie countered.
“But no one will be able to appreciate how amazing it looks if I’m unable to attend the ball due to fainting dead away here in about a second.”
Even though Mamie immediately took to grumbling, she loosened Beatrix’s laces, then helped her with her petticoats, and finally settled a small padded bustle over the petticoats. Beatrix lifted her arms, and Mamie drew the gown carefully over Beatrix’s hair, tugging it into place before she set about using a buttonhook on the two hundred seed pearl buttons that marched down the back of the gown.
Beatrix slipped into her shoes, turned, then smiled at Aunt Gladys, who was looking her over with a sharp eye. “What do you think?”
“You look enchanting.”
“Do I look like a lady capable of using my feminine wiles to capture the attention of a particular gentleman because I’m interested in that gentleman’s fortune?”
Aunt Gladys’s eyes sparkled. “You’re far more annoyed with Norman’s mother than you’ve let on, aren’t you?”
“Perhaps I am, because her conclusions about me were incredibly insulting. Insults aside, though, I am going to disclose to Norman and his mother that I’m not a fortune hunter, what with me being an heiress and all. I was actually going to disclose my heiress status to Norman last week, but then we got distracted with the peddle-boat after his mother left, and I haven’t seemed to find the appropriate time to tell him the full truth about me since.” She smoothed down the skirt of her gown. “Frankly, what with how astute Norman is, I’ve been wondering if he’s already figured out I come from money. He knows that I did, after all, have the funds needed to bail out those women from jail.”
Before Aunt Gladys could respond to that, a knock sounded on the door, interrupting their conversation as Edgar called through the door that Norman had arrived.
“I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
“No, you shouldn’t, nor should you assume he knows about your wealth,” Aunt Gladys said before she handed Beatrix her reticule. “You should tell him tonight about your fortune, although perhaps you should wait until after dinner is served. Men tend to react better to unexpected news when they’re not suffering from hunger pangs.” She gave Beatrix’s cheek a pat. “Off you go, then, dear. I’ll be down directly. I just need to fetch my wrap from my room.”
Beatrix nodded, thanked Mamie for her assistance, then headed out the door of her bedchamber.
Edgar was waiting for her in the hallway, looking very dashing in a formal black evening suit, paired with a white shirt, white waistcoat, and white tie.
“You look lovely, Miss Beatrix,” Edgar began, offering her his arm. “Dare I hope you’re looking forward to this evening?”
Beatrix tilted her head, considering the question for a moment.
In all truthfulness, she was looking forward to the evening, no matter that she knew she’d be scrutinized by Chicago’s finest.
It had been months since she’d had an opportunity to dance, and even though she’d made the claim often that she did not enjoy all the frivolities that society offered, in hindsight, that wasn’t the full truth.
She missed the hum of a dinner party and the dancing at a ball as well as taking in the theater and riding through Central Park in the afternoon, which allowed her to
chat with many of her friends.
Being presented with the unusual opportunity of taking up a position had allowed her to fully appreciate the life she’d been given, while also causing her to realize the realities of people who’d not been born into a life of luxury. Life for people with limited funds consisted of hardships Beatrix had never considered, such as feet that ached from standing on them for hours and worries about getting dismissed from positions that kept roofs over heads and food on the table. Those realities left an impression on Beatrix that she knew she’d never forget.
“Difficult question, was it?”
She shook aside her thoughts and grinned. “Apparently so, but yes, I am looking forward to the evening ahead.”
Edgar leaned closer to her. “I’ll be watching out for you, Miss Beatrix. You’re sure to encounter ladies who saw you working at Marshall Field & Company, and I would hazard to guess that those very ladies, once they see you on the arm of one of Chicago’s wealthy bachelors, will not want to make the evening pleasant for you.”
“Thank you, Edgar. It’s no wonder my aunt is so fond of you.”
“And I’m fond of her as—” Edgar abruptly stopped talking, cleared his throat, then gestured her forward. “Norman is waiting.”
Knowing Edgar had revealed more than he’d intended, Beatrix smiled and walked down the hallway. Moving down the stairs, she made her way to the receiving room, where Norman was waiting.
The sight of him left her grinning.
Even though he was looking dashing in his formal evening attire, he’d wound a scarf around his face, obscuring half of it. His eyes, however, could clearly be seen, and those eyes were directed at cats that had formed a semi-circle around him, all except for Phantom, who was winding his way around Norman’s legs, purring up a storm.
“Ah, Beatrix,” he began, lifting his head. “I could use some . . .” His words trailed to nothing as eyes that were watering rather profusely widened.
“Assistance?” she finished for him, striding forward and bending over to snag Phantom, her attempt failing when Phantom released a hiss and batted a paw at her.
