“I can’t leave until the cash boy comes back with Miss Robinson’s change, and I also need to finish packaging up her purchases because she wants to take the gloves with her instead of having them delivered.”
Pulling out another piece of brown paper, Beatrix started wrapping the gloves, annoyance running freely when Norman began drumming his fingers on the counter.
“Stop that,” she muttered.
“Stop what?” he asked.
“Making so much noise.”
“I’m doing no such thing.”
“Norman often fidgets when he’s made to wait,” Theodosia supplied, earning herself a grimace from Norman, although he did discontinue drumming his fingers against the counter.
Robert returned with Theodosia’s change right as Beatrix finished tying a string around the package she’d assembled. After she handed it to Norman, who took it even though he was still throwing exasperated glances Theodosia’s way, he jerked his head toward the aisle.
“Now are you ready to go?” he asked.
“You’re very impatient,” Beatrix said before she stepped out from behind the counter and nodded to Miss Wheeler. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” Miss Wheeler said as Beatrix began making her way toward Men’s Furnishings, Norman falling into step beside her while Theodosia trailed behind.
Even though Miss Wheeler had encouraged her to take her time, Beatrix knew taking her time with Norman could prove to be disastrous. The man was notorious for irritating her, which could very well provoke an argument between them, something that would certainly see her dismissed from her position. That meant her only course of action was to find the items Norman needed as quickly as possible and then send him on his way.
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
