Chapter 13
“How many collars do you need?” Beatrix asked as she sailed down the aisle past a gleaming counter filled with buttons.
“No idea. How many collars do men normally purchase?”
“Depends on how many you still have at home and how many you go through in a given day.”
Norman slowed his pace. “I don’t normally go through many collars a day because I don’t wear them when I’m working.”
“But you’re running low on them?” Beatrix pressed.
“Hard to say.”
She stopped walking. “How can you not know how many collars you have?”
“Norman lives with his parents,” Theodosia said, stopping by Norman’s side. “He doesn’t normally bother himself with trivial matters such as collars.”
“Then why are you doing so today?” Beatrix asked.
Norman didn’t bother to answer her. Instead, he frowned at Theodosia. “I don’t live with my parents. I live in the carriage house behind their main house.”
“You might as well live at the main house because that’s where you take all your meals. Your mother also sends a maid to clean your apartment every day and has that maid collect your laundry, which is then returned to your wardrobe after its been laundered.” Theodosia turned to Beatrix. “Norman’s mother has always been rather insistent about looking after him.”
“Because he almost died after his horse accident?” Beatrix asked.
Theodosia shot a look to Norman. “You told her about that?”
“Of course I did, what with how she was badgering me about not properly riding the horse I was using to get away from the train robbers.”
Theodosia returned her attention to Beatrix. “You were badgering him?”
“Badgering isn’t the word I would use to describe what I was doing.”
“Interrogating,” Norman said with a nod. “That might be a better word.”
Beatrix resisted a smile. “Perhaps, but weren’t we speaking about your mother?”
Theodosia nodded before Norman could respond. “Indeed, and I should probably clarify that she doesn’t only dote on Norman because of his accident. She also dotes on him because she believes his unusual mind is a gift from God, so she wants Norman to make the most of that gift instead of concerning himself with the more mundane realities of life.”
Beatrix glanced to Norman. “And what do you think of your mother’s belief?”
He shrugged. “I had to get my unusual mind from somewhere, didn’t I?”
“But you’re a man of science.”
Norman smiled. “Ah, I see where you’re going with this. You wonder if I put much stock in matters of faith. And while there are many men of science who don’t believe in God, I don’t happen to be one of those.”
He took Beatrix’s arm, seemed to realize that wasn’t the thing to do since she was an employee and he was a customer, so he released it and began heading across the store again, with her walking beside him. “I’ve always thought it arrogant for anyone, especially men of science, to claim there is no God, for how can one explain the intricacies of life without God?”
“How do you explain the intricacies of life?”
“No idea. I’m of the belief that our minds are limited in that they can’t grasp the full measure of God or how He created all the splendors of our world or how those splendors work. That’s where faith comes in, something I struggle with at times since I enjoy being able to explain everything through mathematic equations or scientific experiments.”
“I don’t imagine there’s a mathematical equation to prove the existence of God.”
“Yet,” he said with a smile, stopping directly in front of the Men’s Furnishings department. He nodded to the two salesmen, who were both assisting fashionably dressed matrons, neither salesman giving him more than a cursory look.
“See, I told you I wasn’t receiving good service here,” Norman said.
“And while I could point out that your less-than-fashionable long hair might be partially to blame for their careless disregard, the Marshall Field’s employee handbook explains on page five how employees are to treat every customer the same, no matter if that customer appears to be wealthy or not.” With that, Beatrix surged into motion, locating the collar section with ease. Dismissing the paper collars with a wave of her hand when Norman lingered over one, telling him he deserved better, she moved to the linen collars, quickly selecting three different styles—the stand up, the wing-tipped, and the perry. Pulling twelve of each out of the drawers situated beneath the counter, she stacked them in a pile before gesturing for Norman to follow her to the belt section.
“How many belts do you need?”
The blank look on Norman’s face was answer enough. Eyeing his waistline, she moved to the drawers where the stock was kept, pulled out three different styles in what she estimated to be Norman’s size, then added those to the pile of collars.
Norman consulted his notepad. “I thought perhaps I should get a few pairs of half hose, as well as some, er . . .”
“Garters?” Beatrix finished for him, earning a nod from Norman in return.
“There’s really nothing to be embarrassed about over purchasing garters, Norman—ah, I mean, Mr. Nesbit. It’s not as if men’s garters are thought of in the same way as ladies’ garters.”
“I could use some new garters,” Theodosia said, causing Beatrix to jump because she’d not realized Theodosia was standing right behind her.
“Those will be found on the fifth floor,” Beatrix told her.
Theodosia frowned. “Why wouldn’t they be found here? Aren’t they along the same lines as Men’s Furnishings?”
“They’re unmentionables, so they need to be treated as such,” Beatrix said, earning another frown from Theodosia.
“I’ll just purchase some in this department,” she said a moment later, giving an airy wave of her hand.
Beatrix shook her head. “Men’s garters and ladies’ garters aren’t interchangeable. Men’s garters are secured below the knee, whereas ladies’ garters are, ah, secured a bit higher up on the—”
“Thigh, yes, I know,” Theodosia said. “But I rarely wear ladies’ stockings. I prefer wearing men’s half hose.” She smiled. “Half hose is far more comfortable than stockings, and it’s not as if anyone can see what I’m wearing since my skirts cover my legs.”
“I did not need to know that about you,” Norman muttered.
“It’s not as if I’ve just disclosed something scandalous,” Theodosia said before she nodded to Beatrix. “I could also use some new half hose too, so you might as well show me the selections you were going to show Norman.”
Realizing it was hardly her place to tell Theodosia that words such as leg and thigh were to be avoided at all costs in mixed company, Beatrix surged into motion again, choosing garters for Norman and Theodosia, as well as a nice selection of half hosiery for both of them.
Dusting her hands together after she’d organized their purchases on a counter, she pulled out her sales pad.
“What’s that for?” Norman asked.
“I need to tally up all of your purchases before you can move on to looking for jackets.”
“Aren’t you going to help me with those?”
“I can’t go to that department with you. The upper floors are only for seasoned salesmen and saleswomen, a rank I’ve yet to achieve. Just tell them you’re interested in Prince Albert jackets and they’ll take it from there.” Beatrix looked over the items and began tallying them.
“You don’t need to do that,” Norman said. “I’ve already totaled my purchases for you.”
“I’ve totaled mine as well,” Theodosia added.
Norman shook his head. “I totaled your half hose and garters in with my total.”
“I don’t want you to buy my garters for me. That could cause all sorts of talk.”
“No one will know they’re for you since they’re men’s garters,” Norman argued before he nodded to Beatrix. “I’m paying for all of it, and the total is—”
“Perhaps you should write it down,” Beatrix said before he could finish. “That way I can know if you’re right after I total everything up as well.”
Even though Norman looked as if he’d like to argue with that, he scribbled down a figure on his notepad, then began drumming his fingers on the counter as she went about the daunting task of adding a very long list of numbers on her notepad, lifting her head and glaring at him when she lost track of a column after he started humming under his breath.
“Stop it. You’re distracting me.”
He sent her an amused look. “You don’t need to add up the purchases. I assure you, the total I came to is not wrong.”
Refusing a sigh, she returned to her task, finishing up a full minute later. After she slid her bill of sale across the counter, Norman glanced over it, his only response being sliding the number he’d written down back to her.
Annoyance was swift when she realized his total did not match hers, being off by twenty-two cents, and unfortunately she had the sneaking suspicion she was the one in error.
Pulling the bill of sale away from him, she scratched out the total she’d written down, replaced it with his, then forced a smile. “And there we have it. Would you care to charge this to your account, or would you like to pay cash?”
“I don’t know if I have credit here.”
“Of course you do,” Theodosia answered. “Your mother arranged it for you years ago after you came into your majority and gained access to the trust fund your grandfather set up for you.”
“You have a trust fund?” Beatrix asked.
“I do, and I apparently have access to credit at Marshall Field’s as well, but I’ll pay cash today.” He smiled. “Are you certain you don’t want to tally up the total again?”
“And have you distract me from getting the proper number by humming again? I think not.”
“I’ve never heard you hum before,” Theodosia said, lifting her head and abandoning a half hose she’d been inspecting. “Are you feeling well?”
“I’m fine,” Norman said firmly. “I’m a little fatigued, though, from all this shopping, so I believe I’ll forego looking for jackets today.”
“Then all that’s left to do is tell me whether you’d like to take all this with you or have it delivered to your house, and if that’s the case, you’ll need to provide me with your address.”
Norman got a rather odd look in his eyes. “Are you asking for my address because you’re curious where I live?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned to Theodosia and smiled. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Robinson, and I do hope you’ll have fun at that ball. I’m sure Mr. Harvey Cabot is a delightful gentleman, no matter that Mr. Nesbit believes otherwise.”
Norman let out a grunt. “Delightful is not a word anyone would use to describe Harvey. He’s been known to bore people to tears, and you mark my words, once Theo remembers that, she’ll change her mind about going to the ball with me.”
“Considering you almost had Pinkerton men drifting off to sleep when you waxed on and on about your electrical research, you’re quite the pot calling the kettle black,” Beatrix countered.
“Theo enjoys discussing electrical research with me, and that right there is why I know she’ll enjoy attending the ball with me over Harvey.” Norman nodded to Theo. “You know I’m right about that.”
Theodosia shrugged. “You’re right about me enjoying our electrical discussions, but I won’t be changing my mind about the ball. I’ve made a promise to Mr. Cabot, and I intend to honor it.”
“But if you don’t go with me,” Norman began, “I’ll be subjected to the company of either Miss Paulina Dinneen or Miss Caroline Ashburn.”
“Those ladies aren’t your only options,” Theodosia argued.
“They are according to my mother, and—ouch. Have a care, Theo. You just stepped on my foot.”
“I did it on purpose.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because the answer to your problem is right in front of you, but you’re being annoyingly obtuse, something that’s quite unlike you and does suggest you’re soon to come down with some dreadful illness.”
“I’m not becoming ill, nor is the answer to my dilemma right in front of me,” Norman argued, which had Theodosia rolling her eyes before she actually pointed to Beatrix.
“She’s right there. In front of you. Miss Waterbury.”
“Oh dear,” Beatrix muttered as Norman’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, as if he couldn’t decide what reply he should voice regarding Theodosia’s unexpected declaration.
Taking pity on the poor man, Beatrix summoned up another smile. “There’s no need to worry I’m going to take what Miss Robinson just blurted out as an invitation, Mr. Nesbit. And with that settled, I think it’s time for you to pull out your billfold, pay for your new items, and then get on with your day.”
Norman narrowed his eyes at Theodosia before he pulled out his billfold, counted out the exact amount he owed for his purchases, then pushed the money over the counter.
“I’ll leave it to Theo to arrange for the delivery of my items.” With that, he sent Beatrix a curt nod and stalked out of the department without another word.
“What have you done to him?” Theodosia demanded after Norman disappeared from sight.
“I’m not the one who did something to him,” Beatrix countered. “That, Miss Robinson, falls directly on you.” She pulled out sheets of brown paper and began wrapping up Norman’s purchases, ringing for a delivery and cash boy when she was finished. She then wrote down Norman’s address that Theodosia rattled off to her as she waited for the delivery boy to arrive.
“You might as well send my items to Norman’s house,” Theodosia said. “I’ll just retrieve them later.”
“Which will give you the perfect opportunity to apologize to him,” Beatrix said, handing the address she’d just written down to the young boy who’d shown up by her side, an address she might have already memorized for some peculiar reason.
When the cash boy arrived next, Beatrix handed over the money Norman had given her to pay for his purchases and pretended not to notice the irritated looks one of the salesmen was sending her as she nodded to Theodosia.
“I think that does it for today,” Beatrix said.
Instead of taking her leave, Theodosia frowned. “Why do you think I should apologize to Norman?”
“Because he’s your friend and you just embarrassed him.”
“We’re not friends.”
“You are.”
“The term friend has always seemed frivolous to me.”
“Being friends with a person is not frivolous. In fact, friendship is essential to living a happy life, but now is not the time to discuss this further. I need to return to my department, and you need to go after Norman.”
“I don’t know where he went.”
Beatrix refused a sigh. “I’m going to assume you and Mr. Nesbit came to the store together, which means he’s probably waiting for you outside the front door, unless he decided to abandon you and take a train home, but that doesn’t really seem to me like something he’d do. He’s an annoying man, no question about that, but he’s a gentleman, and a gentleman wouldn’t abandon a lady, no matter the embarrassment that lady caused him.”
“I don’t know how I could have embarrassed him.”
“You’ll have to ask him about that, then.”
“It would be simpler all around if you’d just explain it to me.”
Beatrix chanced a glance to the salesman who’d now moved up beside her, hardly encouraged when he sent her a scowl. Glancing back to Theodosia, Beatrix forced another smile. “I’m afraid I really do need to get back to my department, Miss Robinson. I’ve prevailed on Miss Wheeler’s kind offer to watch over my counter for long enough. I will offer you a small bit of advice, though, since you seem at a loss for how to proceed with Mr. Nesbit. Ask him to explain why he’s upset with you, but do know that it has been my experience with gentlemen that when they’re embarrassed, it’s best to get right down to begging their pardon. That should go far in soothing his offended sensibilities.”
“Norman’s never struck me as a gentleman possessed of sensibilities.”
Beatrix opened her mouth, but before she could say a single word to that, a loud clearing of a throat drew her attention. Turning, she discovered Mrs. Goodman standing a few feet away from her, a look of outrage on her face.
Beatrix rapidly bid Theodosia a good day, which left Theodosia looking somewhat confused, probably because of the abrupt end to their interaction, and then she forced her feet to move in Mrs. Goodman’s direction, knowing the conversation she was about to have with the woman was going to be anything other than pleasant.