Storing Up Trouble, стр. 73

“That was excellent,” Beatrix said, Theodosia nodding in agreement before she gave her stomach a pat.

“I’m stuffed to the gills,” Theodosia added.

“Which I’m sure Roberta and Susan adore hearing,” Aunt Gladys said, “but if you were in polite company, that is a remark that should be avoided.”

“Duly noted,” Theodosia said with a smile right as a loud gong sounded and everyone jumped.

“Wonder who that could be?” Aunt Gladys asked while Edgar strode from the room to answer the door.

“Perhaps it’s Norman,” Theodosia said. “He told me he’d be by to escort me home, but he’s going to be in for a long wait since we’ve yet to get to my hair.”

Beatrix smoothed a hand over her own hair, earning a telling look from her aunt in the process, which she ignored. Butterflies immediately began churning in her stomach, but those butterflies lost flight when Edgar walked back into the room holding a large package wrapped in brown paper, no Norman in sight.

Theodosia nodded to the package. “What do you want to bet that’s from Norman, and is the first step he’s taking to try to make you more amiable to accepting more kisses from him?”

The entire room went silent as Aunt Gladys leaned forward, her eyes gleaming in a most concerning way. “You never mentioned a word about Norman and kissing.”

Beatrix forced a smile. “Must have slipped my mind.”

Aunt Gladys arched a brow. “I highly doubt that. So what happened?”

“He kissed her,” Theodosia said when Beatrix faltered.

The gleam in Aunt Gladys’s eyes intensified. “Did he really?”

Theodosia nodded. “Right in the middle of the street, in front of everyone, and—”

She stopped talking when Beatrix kicked her under the table and frowned. “I never took you for a clumsy sort, Beatrix, but you’ve just lost control of your foot and kicked me.”

“It wasn’t clumsiness on my part.” Beatrix turned to Aunt Gladys. “And to settle this matter once and for all, Norman only kissed me because he was swept up in the moment after the attack we suffered in the street.”

“She then annoyed Norman,” Theodosia interjected, “by telling him she found his kiss merely pleasant, and—”

Beatrix placed her foot directly over Theodosia’s and pressed down in a rather determined fashion.

Theodosia stopped talking as her brows drew together. “Since you recently claimed you weren’t being clumsy when you kicked me, may I now presume you’re all but smashing my foot into the floor because you don’t want me to expand on the kissing business?”

“We’re going to have to have a long discussion on what friends are expected to keep to themselves,” Beatrix returned.

“We’re friends?”

“Of course we are.”

Theodosia’s eyes turned suspiciously bright. “I’ve never had a woman friend before.”

“And now you have an entire room filled with them,” Aunt Gladys proclaimed, which had all the women nodding their heads in agreement as well as Edgar and Hubert. “With that settled, and because it seems as if Beatrix is not going to divulge all when it comes to Norman, perhaps you should give Beatrix that package you’re holding, Edgar.”

Edgar shook his head. “It’s not for Miss Beatrix. It’s for Miss Theodosia.”

“For me?” Theodosia asked slowly. “Why would someone send me something here instead of having it delivered to my house? And who would send me something anyways?”

Edgar walked over to Theodosia, setting the package directly in front of her after Hubert made space. “You’ll have to open it up to discover all that.”

Biting her lip, Theodosia ripped away the brown paper, then opened the large box, staring at the contents for a long moment, apparently rendered speechless.

Scooting her chair closer, Beatrix looked into the box and discovered a beautiful ivory gown with hundreds of glass beads attached to the fabric, glittering in the light cast from the chandelier.

“I don’t understand,” Theodosia whispered.

“There’s a note.” Beatrix plucked the note card from where it had been lying on top of the gown and handed it to Theodosia.

She opened it with hands that were now trembling, her eyes turning bright with unshed tears as she read it. She drew in a breath and lifted her head. “It’s from Norman. He bought it at Marshall Field & Company, and he wants me to wear it to the Palmer ball, writing that he’s been told it’s a gown worthy of the phrase in the first state of fashion.” She dashed a hand over her eyes before she grinned a somewhat wobbly grin. “He also included that I’m not to take a knife to the hem if it’s too long but to ask if anyone here is proficient with alterations.”

Half the women now gathered around Theodosia lifted their hands.

“Norman certainly knew what he was about, sending that gown here,” Aunt Gladys said. “What a dear friend you have in him, Theodosia, one who clearly cares about you and wants to ascertain you’ll face no unkind scrutiny at the ball.” She clapped her hands and nodded all around. “Ladies, it’s time to take Theodosia under our wings, which means . . . to action.”

Before Beatrix knew it, she and Theodosia, along with the rest of the women, had abandoned their outfits for loose-fitting trousers and blouses. They then moved to the parlor, where Edgar had placed linen sheets on the floor and hardback chairs on top of those sheets.

“I thought I was simply going to have my hair trimmed,” Theodosia said warily as Blanche stopped mixing something in a large bowl and frowned.

“Your hair needs more than a trim.” She nodded to the bowl. “I’m going to start by putting this on your head and allowing it to sit. Hopefully my concoction will diminish the brittleness, which will then allow me to know how to proceed with cutting and styling it.”

Even though Theodosia had been remarkably silent throughout the meal, spending her time observing the antics of the women surrounding her, the mention of a concoction had a sparkle settling into her eyes. She strode to Blanche’s side and immediately began throwing questions Blanche’s way regarding what ingredients she was using and