Dear Gigi,
I hope this letter finds you well. If Sunday is available, I will come shortly after the noon hour. I’m looking forward to seeing you more than you know.
Sincerely,
Clyde
The back room of the dressmaking shop was cluttered with rolls of fabric, stacks of thread spools, and trays of beads, buttons, feathers, and other notions. Gigi was working on a series of shawls that Mrs. Stanton wanted to display for the upcoming autumn season. Gigi had decided to weave thin ribbons of browns, golds, and violets into the shawls. Working this morning was a good distraction from dwelling constantly on the professor’s upcoming visit.
Today was the day. She planned to leave the shop a good hour before so that she could get home and fuss with her appearance. Gigi must remember to think of him as Professor Haskins and not Clyde. She’d reread all of his personal letters to her over and over, so she had them well memorized.
Aunt Rowena was now well enough to move about the house. She spent her mornings in the drawing room and her afternoons in the library. After that, it was an early supper and to bed for her. Gigi had gotten creative and embellished Aunt Rowena’s nightdresses to cut down on the monotony of the days. Gigi had spent a portion of each day at the dressmaker’s, and she’d spent off hours working on designs for men’s clothing as well.
Checking the clock yet again, she realized her concentration had completely left. The professor kept entering her thoughts by way of questions of what it would be like to see him again, what their conversation might consist of. And would she see him again after this?
Mrs. Stanton came into the back room, her gray-streaked hair pulled tight into a bun. “Have you seen the peach organza?” she asked, eyeing the shawl Gigi was working on.
“It’s on the top shelf there,” Gigi said, nodding to the shelving on the other side of the room.
“Ah, thank you.” Mrs. Stanton paused. “By the way, I wanted to speak to you for a moment. Frederica just turned in her notice. I can hire another shop girl, or you could work more hours.”
Frederica worked with the wealthier clients one-on-one. She had a great eye for fashion, but she was also flakey and usually showed up late.
“Why is she leaving?”
Mrs. Stanton pursed her lips. “She says she’s been hired for more money at Bovine’s Millenary.”
A sore point to be sure, since Mrs. Stanton and Mrs. Bovine competed for some of the same customers. Mrs. Stanton had started selling hats, and Mrs. Bovine had started offering alterations and ready-made clothing. But if Gigi were to do Frederica’s job in catering to the customers, then she wouldn’t be hands-on with the clothing anymore.
“Can I think about it and let you know tomorrow?”
“Of course.” Mrs. Stanton took down the organza, then went back into the front of the shop.
Gigi sighed. She was even more distracted now, and she might as well call it a day, then come back fresh tomorrow with her decision, whatever that might be . . .
Once she made the short walk home, she walked into a flower-laced drawing room. Apparently, Aunt Rowena had ordered half the flowers in London to be delivered to their home.
“What’s this?” Gigi asked, turning to survey the drawing room. “Are you turning this into a garden?”
Aunt Rowena chuckled from her spot by the hearth, which had been lit, even though it was the middle of summer. Since her surgery, she complained about always being cold.
“It’s an added welcome for the professor,” Aunt Rowena said. “We used to discuss types of flowers. Apparently his mother won many contests for best roses. Did he not tell you?”
“No,” Gigi said. She moved about the room, examining a few of the arrangements. “But so many?”
“If it can’t be done well, then why do it at all?” her mother said, coming into the room.
Her mother wore one of her best day dresses and had obviously taken time to fix her hair. Lillian was right on their mother’s heels. She looked beautiful in a soft-pink dress with ruffles at the neck and wrists.
Gigi looked down at her work skirt and blouse that had seen better days. “I should go change.”
“You should,” Lillian said brightly.
Her mother just smiled, and Aunt Rowena seemed distracted by checking something in her notebook.
Gigi went up the stairs to her bedroom. Noon would arrive in a half hour, and then the professor would be here unless he was delayed by something. Would he be on time? Would he come at all? Of course he was coming . . . She changed into a fresh blouse and a dark-green skirt. She didn’t want to dress up too much or look like she was trying too hard. And yet . . .
By the time she’d brushed out her hair, then pinned it and repinned it, the time was dangerously close to noon.
She could hear the voices of her family downstairs, and she knew she should hurry down. But she was glued to her bedroom window that overlooked the street, watching for any sign of the professor. She studied the passing carriages and analyzed the pedestrians.
The appointed time came and went. Five minutes, then ten minutes. A carriage slowed on the opposite side of the street, and out stepped a man she’d recognize in any country. Professor Haskins was here—at her home! She watched him walk across the street, coming closer. His jacket was a deep brown, and she knew instinctively that it would make his eyes more brown when she saw him up close.
His pale-blond hair beneath his hat seemed shorter than when she’d last seen him, and his stride was sure and confident.
She still hadn’t moved from the window.
When a knock sounded at the door, she nearly jumped. She needed to go downstairs now.
After taking a deep breath and smoothing her palms over her skirt, she left her bedroom. The voices coming from the drawing room were female mixed with a familiar male voice. Gigi quickened her step and pushed herself to keep moving even though her heart was already in her throat.
“Wonderful to meet you,” her mother’s voice rang out. “We’ve heard so much about you, and we appreciate your care and concern for my sister-in-law.”
The professor murmured something that Gigi couldn’t quite make out. She stepped into the drawing room. His back was to her as he faced her aunt.
“You are looking lovely, ma’am,” he said, and it wasn’t any surprise that a flush stole over Aunt Rowena’s cheeks as she gazed up at him.
“Thank you for coming, Professor,” Aunt Rowena said. “I hope you plan to stay for a while because I want to hear all about the rest of the tour. I almost invited Irene and Blanche over for a little reunion but perhaps next time. I’d rather have you all to myself.”
The professor laughed, and the warmth reached across the room and sent Gigi’s pulse thrumming.
“I have many stories to tell,” he said, the timbre of his voice low, so familiar yet so new at the same time.
And then he turned, and their gazes connected. Warmth skittered across Gigi’s skin, and her chest felt like she’d exhaled after holding her breath for many moments.
All the greetings Gigi had planned to say flew right out of her mind.
“Hello, Miss Ballard,” the professor said, his gaze intent, his words even more intent.
Lillian nudged her, and Gigi managed to say, “Welcome, Professor.” Such a profound statement, she thought with a grimace. That was all she’d come up with?
Professor Haskins’s gaze didn’t miss a thing, and she felt as if he was seeing all of her at once, both inside and out. His mouth curved into a smile, and he gave her a small nod . . . Had he winked?
She wasn’t entirely sure because she felt like she was in some sort of strange dream seeing the professor in her family drawing room in the space where she spent part of every day.
“Have a seat,” her mother said. “I’ll have our maid bring in tea. I assume you’d like some refreshment.”
“I’ve never turned down refreshment,” he said with a smile.
Everyone laughed, or giggled, making the drawing room sound like a children’s schoolyard.
Gigi’s face warmed. Her family sure acted differently when there was a gentleman in the room.
“Tell me all about how your recovery is going,” the professor asked her aunt.
So they sat through several moments of Aunt Rowena’s update. The tea arrived, and her mother poured a cup for everyone after asking the professor how he liked his tea.
“One sugar.”
Had he looked at Gigi on purpose when he spoke? Why was she reading so much into his every word and action?
“Now, tell us all about the rest of the tour,” Aunt Rowena said. “I must live vicariously through you.”
The professor chuckled. “If you must know, the tour was not the same without the two of you.” His gaze slid to Gigi’s.
And of course Lillian was watching her closely, a sly smile on her face, probably checking for any reactions. Gigi was sure she’d get an earful after the professor left.
She wasn’t even sure she absorbed any of his descriptions of the cities, hotels, and museums. She was certainly looking at him, listening even, just not exactly comprehending.
“And now what are your plans?” Aunt Rowena said.
“I’m preparing for my next round of lectures at the university,” he said. “Classes begin in a few weeks.”
“Ah, so you have a bit of a break.”
His smile turned amused. “A bit.”
“Perfect,” Aunt Rowena said. “That means you should accompany us to the Victoria and Albert Museum in two weeks’ time. That will be my first outing, and I’ve never attended with an art expert.”
This was quite a bold invitation, and Gigi tried to act like she wasn’t surprised at her aunt’s request. Having the professor pay a short visit and politely inquire after her health was one thing . . . but inviting him on an outing was quite another.
“I’d love to,” he said with no hesitation.
Aunt Rowena clasped her hands together. “Wonderful.”
Without even meeting her aunt’s gaze, Gigi knew that the invitation had been for her benefit. Her aunt hadn’t given up. Not yet. Gigi wanted to laugh. Her aunt might have asked for forgiveness in her matchmaking schemes, but she could not truly change her character.
“I thank you for the refreshments,” the professor said. “And it was great to meet everyone.”
“Thank you for your visit,” Aunt Rowena said. “You have been a kind man, and I will recommend your tour to everyone I know.”
“Very well,” he said in an amused tone.
Everyone but Aunt Rowena rose as he stood, and it was like a crew of sparrows following him to the door.
He took his hat from the coat rack and turned a final time. At least what Gigi had thought was a final time.
“Miss Ballard,” he said, his gaze upon her. “Would you care to go for a stroll?”
She was stunned, to say the least. He’d asked her to go for a walk in front of her entire family . . . Of course, it wasn’t like they would have a chance to be alone on their walk. Not like those stolen moments on the train.
“Yes,” she said, knowing she sounded breathless. “I’d like that very much.”
Lillian was probably about to laugh, and her mother was beaming. Surely Aunt Rowena could hear them from the drawing room and was likely silently clapping.
“I’ll just get my hat.”
“Oh, you can wear mine,” Lillian said, plucking her hat from the coat rack, where she must have left it earlier.
“All right.” Gigi exhaled and put on the hat, her fingers trembling.
Lillian moved close to help her pin it in place.
“Thank you,” Gigi said, her face heating up.
Lillian only smiled. “Have a nice walk.”
Professor Haskins . . . Clyde . . . opened the door, and she stepped out first. The day was rather warm, but Gigi didn’t mind in the least. He extended his arm, and just like that, they were walking side by side along her neighborhood street.
She couldn’t think of a thing to say, and she doubted her voice would be steady anyway.
The professor didn’t say anything for a long moment either, and perhaps that was all right. But as the silence stretched, Gigi began to feel antsy.
“Thank you again for coming,” she said. “My aunt has been looking forward to this for a long time . . . really, since we left the tour.”
He slowed their steps. “And you?”
The two words were simple but said so much.
She looked up at him to find his gaze on her, open and steady.
“You know I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.”
He smiled. “That’s good to hear.” Then he fully stopped, bringing her to a stop as well. They’d reached the edge of a small park. Children were playing beyond, watched over by nurses or mothers.
“Gigi . . .” He released her arm and took her hand. “I didn’t know how it would be seeing you again. I wondered if the enjoyment I found in spending time with you was part of the nature of the tour. But when you walked into the drawing room earlier today, I knew it wasn’t just the tour.”
She had to look away from his penetrating gaze, so she looked down at their linked hands instead as his thumb skimmed over her wrist. Her heart was nearing double-time, and she wasn’t even sure she could take a full breath.
“Gigi . . .”
She lifted her chin and saw a tenderness in his gaze that sent hope skittering throughout her body.
“May I court you?”
Her eyes began to burn. Why would she cry now? She should be happy. But she was happy, she realized, and apparently that was going to make her cry. “Yes,” she whispered because that was all she could manage for now.
“Do you need my handkerchief?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think I do.”
His mouth curved into a smile as he handed it over. Gigi dabbed at her eyes, then inhaled. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I guess I thought you were set on being a bachelor as you told me—”
His hand touched her jaw, effectively stopping her speech. “I know what I said, and it was true at the time that I spoke the words. But when you left the tour, I was at a loss . . . a feeling I’d never had before. I knew it was because you weren’t with me.”
She blinked back new tears. “So that kiss wasn’t a goodbye?”
His eyes danced with merriment, and he dropped his hand to grasp her other hand. “Not at all. It was a beginning.” He tilted his head. “If that’s all right with you.”
“It’s all right with me.”
The professor smiled, and he squeezed her hand. “If only we weren’t in a public place . . .” His voice trailed off, but the meaning was clear in his eyes.
She wanted to kiss him too. Instead, she smiled. Had she ever smiled so much around a single person? She highly doubted it. “I’m guessing you’ll come to the museum with us in two weeks. My aunt is so looking forward to it.”
“I can’t wait two weeks before seeing you again,” he said. “It must be much sooner. Maybe tomorrow.”
Her heart leapt at this declaration. “Tomorrow might set my family all atwitter.”
“I don’t mind,” he said in a low voice that sent a delicious shiver through her.
She wanted to grin, but she kept her calm as she said, “How about the day after? We could walk in the park. I’ll keep my afternoon free.” She pushed away the thoughts of how Mrs. Stanton wanted her to work extra hours. Because Professor Haskins wanted to see her again.
“It’s a plan,” he said. “What time shall I be at your place?”
Would it be childish to skip all the way home? It was impossible to keep a smile at bay. Did she look overeager? And was she really having this conversation with Professor Haskins? It appeared so. He still had a hold of her hands, and the depths of his hazel eyes were focused solely on her. “Three o’clock?”
He nodded. “I’ll be there.”
It seemed dreams really could come true. And now she was reluctant to return home, but she knew their time was short if they were to keep things proper.
As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I should walk you back home or your family will think I’ve spirited you away.”
As they walked back, she said, “What sort of lectures are you preparing, Professor Has—?”
“Clyde, my dear Gigi,” he said. “Please call me Clyde.”
Surely she was blushing now. “What sort of lectures are you preparing, Clyde?”
He grinned. “Interesting that you should ask. I’m preparing a presentation on Johann Friedrich Overbeck.”
“Ah.” Warmth prickled her skin. “Does one have to be a university student to hear your lectures?”
“For some, yes,” he said. “But there are other special-occasion lectures that are open to the public.”
They’d reached her home, and his steps slowed as he gazed down at her. “Would you like to be my guest?”
She stopped with him, lifting her chin. “I would.”
“Excellent.”
They stood for a moment, the traffic in the street a distant sound, the warm breeze stirring their clothing as a new understanding formed between them.
She wanted to step into his arms, to nestle against him, to have him lean down and . . .
“Come,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m fairly certain your sister or mother just parted the drapes to make sure we are being proper.”
Gigi laughed. Hope had lodged itself firmly inside of her. Clyde Haskins was a fine man indeed. Handsome and kind and tempting all in one breath. And she was falling quite madly, deeply, and completely in love with him.