Chapter 26

“You’ve not said much in response to my declaration about Norman’s plans regarding kissing,” Theodosia said to Beatrix in a low voice an hour later as they sat around a large table, waiting for Aunt Gladys to signal for their first course to be brought in.

“There’s really nothing else to say about the matter,” Beatrix returned, placing a stiff linen napkin on her lap and then nodding at Theodosia to do the same.

“I’m sure there’s much to say, and frankly, there are many questions I find I now have about kissing, questions you may be able to answer since, clearly, you’ve been kissed, whereas I, well, I’ve not had the pleasure of that experience,” Theodosia whispered before she placed her napkin in her lap, the seven other women at the table following suit. The only woman who lived under Aunt Gladys’s roof who was not in attendance was Miss Colette Balley, who’d gone off to help her sister with a sick child.

“Nicely done, ladies,” Aunt Gladys boomed, drawing Beatrix’s attention while earning a sigh from Theodosia, who’d obviously been hoping to continue their kissing discussion.

It wasn’t that Beatrix was opposed to discussing kissing. However, given that Theodosia would undoubtedly divulge whatever was said about the matter to Norman, what with how she didn’t seem to grasp that women expected each other not to divulge secrets that may be rather embarrassing, it would be for the best to delay the discussion until Beatrix had ample time to consider the matter.

“I hope all of you are famished,” Aunt Gladys said, reaching for a small bell resting beside her and giving it a ring. “It’s time for the first course, and our esteemed chefs this evening, Roberta and Susan, have chosen quail eggs in aspic with caviar.”

“What’s caviar?” Mamie asked.

“I don’t think you should start asking questions again, Mamie,” Blanche said. “The last time we were served a fancy meal, you asked what terrapin was and then spent the remainder of the meal going on and on about a turtle named Franklin.”

“Even thinking about eating poor Franklin should have made everyone queasy,” Mamie shot back.

“Caviar is fish eggs,” Aunt Gladys said firmly. “It’s a delicacy, and since I’m sure none of you have ever had pet fish eggs, no one should get queasy.”

Mamie frowned. “I’m not so sure about that. Fish eggs sound revolting, unless they’re scrambled and cooked up.”

“They’re eaten raw,” Aunt Gladys said, looking over her shoulder to the door and frowning. She picked up the bell again and gave it a vigorous ring, watching the door for a good few seconds before she blew out a breath. “Edgar is apparently put out with me again.”

“He did seem annoyed after Miss Beatrix told everyone about the attack outside Marshall Field & Company,” Della said, looking up from where she’d been scribbling something onto a notepad. “I’ve just been writing down an account of everything Beatrix and Theodosia told us so that nothing will be forgotten. I’ll type up my notes later on this evening.”

“An excellent idea,” Aunt Gladys proclaimed. “Once the culprits are apprehended, they’ll be taken to trial, and your notes may be able to aid a prosecutor with winning a case against these men, especially if Beatrix and Theodosia remember something they share here that they forgot to tell the authorities.” She looked to the door again, picked up the bell, and gave it another ring, this time more vigorously than the last. When Edgar did not appear in the doorway, Aunt Gladys rose from her chair and marched out of the room.

A mere thirty seconds later, she breezed back in again. “Good news, ladies,” she exclaimed. “Edgar, I’m pleased to report, is not put out with me. He’s been helping Hubert with that new leg Norman made for him. They’re having a few difficulties getting it attached.”

Theodosia removed her napkin from her lap and rose to her feet. “I may not have much proficiency with maneuvering my way around a table set with all this cutlery,” she began, nodding to the cutlery in question, “but I’m more than proficient with matters involving prosthetics. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back directly.”

Aunt Gladys beamed at Theodosia as she quit the room, then sat back down and turned her smile on Beatrix. “She’s such a delightful lady and has so much potential. I have to imagine she’ll take Chicago society by storm after we get done with her.”

“I’m not sure Theodosia will be comfortable with that,” Beatrix said slowly.

“Being comfortable is overrated,” Aunt Gladys returned as Edgar strode into the room, Hubert right behind him, with Theodosia bringing up the rear.

“Ah, I see Theodosia got your leg on properly, Hubert, and in no time at all,” Aunt Gladys said.

Hubert grinned. “She knows what she’s about with this leg,” he said before he proceeded to walk up and down the dining room, his gait still slightly stiff, but he was moving much better than Beatrix had ever seen him move. “The foot part works almost like a real foot, and the leg is incredibly comfortable, something I never expected.”

“What a lovely happenstance it’s turning out to be, having Norman drop into our lives as he did,” Aunt Gladys proclaimed before she sent a pointed look Beatrix’s way. “Why, one could claim without hesitation that Norman’s arrival in our lives has presented us with unforeseen opportunities that may very well enrich our lives, something I’m certain Hubert agrees with, given the freedom his new leg is sure to bring him.”

“Indeed it will,” Hubert said, still walking back and forth across the dining room. “I’ll never be able to thank Mr. Nesbit enough for his unexpected kindness.”

Beatrix’s heart missed a few beats.

Norman had shown an incredible kindness by creating a new leg for Hubert, a kindness that had certainly taken her by surprise, but a kindness that spoke to who Norman really was.

He was not just a man possessed of an unusual mind, but a man who truly could make a difference in the world, although she wasn’t certain he understood that quite yet.

“Can we please get on with this meal?” Roberta demanded from the doorway. “Creating a seven-course meal and then serving it so that it may be fully enjoyed is all about the timing, and our timing is soon to suffer if we don’t start serving everyone their food.”

Aunt Gladys nodded. “An excellent point, Roberta, but I must mention that it’s rare for a professional chef to speak so crossly to her customers.”

Roberta rolled her eyes. “I don’t know of any professional women chefs, Gladys. We’re always considered lowly cooks.” With that, she disappeared from view, Hubert and Edgar trailing after her.

Less than five minutes later, the first course was served, followed by six more courses. The menu Roberta and Susan had chosen was an ambitious one. Potage Saint-Germain followed the caviar, then came Homard Thermidor, which Beatrix had to explain to Mamie was lobster with potatoes. Mamie didn’t balk over eating that course, but she did balk at tournedos aux morilles, tender beef with wild mushrooms.

Mamie apparently didn’t trust mushrooms so refused to eat that course, earning a lecture from Roberta, who’d stepped into the room to see how the dinner was progressing.

Aunt Gladys had been forced to intervene, sending Roberta back to the kitchen after reminding her that really great chefs, of which Roberta should consider herself to be, never wasted their time berating a guest since they found that type of behavior beneath them.

The rest of the courses were spent enjoying the different dishes, which consisted of cailles aux cerises, which were quails with cherries, consommé Olga, and then the final course, chocolate-painted éclairs with crème. Aunt Gladys spent the meal dispensing instructions regarding proper table etiquette, even though she didn’t bother to reprimand some of the ladies when they all but devoured the éclairs, although she did send Mamie a quirk of a brow when Mamie picked up her plate and licked the last bit of crème from it.

Sitting back in her chair as Edgar and Hubert cleared the last of the plates, Beatrix set aside her napkin and smiled at Roberta and Susan, who’d just walked into the room, anxious to discover what everyone had thought of the meal they’d prepared.

“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 what the purported benefits would be, and then went on to throw out suggestions of her own that might improve Blanche’s concoction, such as the addition of olive oil.

The enthusiasm Theodosia was showing suggested she might have found a new avenue to put her unusual mind to work—one that might someday see her becoming involved with the beauty industry that was only now beginning to advance in the country.

“I’m ashamed to admit I never realized how desperately Theodosia needed female companionship,” Aunt Gladys said quietly, stepping up beside Beatrix. “I should have known, what with how she’s been raised by a father who is known to be consumed with his work, but I didn’t.”

“You know now, and I have a feeling you’re going to make certain Theodosia doesn’t suffer from a lack of female companions ever again.”

“Too right I won’t.” Aunt Gladys smiled and nodded to Theodosia, who was now sitting in a chair, having an oily mixture spread over her face. She then nodded to Hubert, who was helping Edgar rearrange a few chairs for some of the women, his limp having all but disappeared. “I’ve been thinking that there have been so many unexpected blessings of late, what with Theodosia finding friends and Hubert gaining a new leg. God certainly knew what He was about when He sent you into our lives, and by sending Norman through you as well. If you ask me, there’s a plan afoot, and I’m looking forward to seeing how it continues to unfold.”

Beatrix ignored the pointed look Aunt Gladys sent her next, but she couldn’t ignore her aunt’s words. Her friendship with Norman had clearly brought about benefits to those around her, his unexpected generosity leaving her with the distinct notion that he was a man with a great deal of potential. She couldn’t deny that there was something appealing about the idea of her being around when he reached that potential.

“I’m looking for my next victim,” Blanche called as she nodded to Beatrix. “Ready to have your face revitalized?”

Pushing all thoughts of Norman aside, Beatrix took a seat in the chair Blanche was pointing to. “What are you going to be doing to my face?”

“I’m going to put a mixture of lemons and cucumbers on you to see if it’ll lighten up a few of your freckles.”

Hoping those were all the ingredients Blanche was going to be slathering over her face, Beatrix forced what she hoped was an enthusiastic smile, which was all the incentive Blanche needed to get to work.

Fifteen minutes later, and after every woman had their faces covered with a variety of mixtures—from special herbs, fruits, vegetables, and even flour—Blanche announced that to enjoy the greatest benefits from her mixtures, they needed to completely relax, which meant all the lights needed to be turned off and silence maintained for a full thirty minutes.

After Edgar and Hubert turned off all the lights in the parlor, they left to turn off the lights throughout the house after Blanche insisted it would help with the relaxation business.

Beatrix swallowed a bubble of amusement as she sat in a pitch-black room, the smells of lemon, lime, and a variety of other scents mingling in the air.

“Sure is dark in here,” someone remarked, which earned her a shush from Mamie, who was sitting on the other side of Aunt Gladys.

Grinning, Beatrix closed her eyes, finding it impossible to relax because thoughts of Norman immediately sprang to mind.

There was no denying that he was becoming important to her, and while she didn’t regret her declaration that there was no need for them to marry because of a kiss, she couldn’t help but wonder what marriage to a gentleman like Norman would be like.

She’d told Theodosia that she’d found his frequently annoying ways refreshing, and that was certainly nothing less than the truth. For years, gentlemen had gone out of their way to accommodate her, even with her having allowed society to believe she shared an understanding with her very good friend Thomas Hamersley. But even with them knowing she was supposedly spoken for, they’d still treated her with kid gloves because of her status as a grand American heiress.

Norman had never treated her with kid gloves, had proceeded to annoy her every other second, and had even attempted a most outlandish experiment with her as the subject, not realizing how she relished the annoying banter they frequently shared between them.

It was a—

A loud crash sounded from above them, causing everyone to jump. Aunt Gladys actually fell out of her chair and landed on the floor with a thud right as the angry screeches of cats rang out.

“We need some light,” Beatrix yelled, which had Mamie striking a match she pulled from a pocket, the light from that match helping Blanche find the switch that turned on the electrical lights her aunt had recently installed throughout most of the house. As soon as light flooded the room, Beatrix raced for the door, Theodosia and the rest of the women close behind her.

Skidding to a stop when she reached the foot of the staircase, Beatrix glanced up, finding a man running down the steps, being chased by a herd of cats.

The scar on his face had the blood running through her veins turning to ice, but instead of trying to attack her, the man she’d shot only that afternoon raced past her and for the door, wrenching the door open and disappearing through it a second later, the cats in hot pursuit.