“Oh, I don’t believe there’s any need for that,” Theo said weakly, a protest Gladys ignored as she kept her attention on Della, who was now rummaging around in a large bag she’d set by her feet, pulling out sheets of paper. She riffled through them and frowned.
“Tonight’s out, as we’re on our way to attend a lecture held by the Cook County Suffrage Association.” She moved to another page. “Tomorrow’s out as well because you have a Chicago Woman’s Club meeting, followed by dinner at Mrs. Doggett’s home.” She considered the pages for a moment. “Saturday night you’re scheduled to go to McVicker’s Theater, and then Sunday isn’t feasible either because we have church, and then we’re taking a picnic lunch over to Mrs. Hanford in the hopes of raising her spirits after that nasty business of her daughter running off with that bounder who—” She stopped talking and shot a guilty look to Gladys. “Sorry about that. I included that tidbit in the notes I typed up, but that was for my personal benefit so I wouldn’t forget to be solicitous of Mrs. Hanford’s tender sensibilities.”
Gladys inclined her head. “A prudent decision because Mrs. Hanford is still overwrought, but returning to the schedule?”
“Right,” Della said, returning to the pages. A full minute passed before she lifted her head. “The Saturday after next is free. The only event scheduled is a seven-course dinner at home where Roberta and Susan are going to try to impress us with their culinary skills.”
“Ah, marvelous,” Gladys said, nodding to Theo. “Dare I hope you have no plans for Saturday after next?”
Theo shook her head rather reluctantly. “I don’t believe so.”
“No engagements with a young gentleman scheduled?” Gladys pressed.
“I don’t normally have engagements with gentlemen,” Theo mumbled. “Nor do I have a need of a schedule to keep track of those, due to the limited number of invitations I receive over a Season.”
Norman frowned. “That’s not true. You often accompany me to social events, and you do have a scheduled engagement in a few weeks with a young gentleman since you’re attending the Palmer ball with Harvey Cabot.”
“Harvey Cabot?” Gladys exclaimed before Theo could respond, the loudness of her voice drawing the attention of several diners. “Surely not, Theodosia. Why, he’s not suitable for you in the least. You’d be much better off going with Norman since the two of you seem quite comfortable in each other’s company.”
“I’m not going with Norman,” Theo said firmly. “I’ve already promised Mr. Cabot I’ll go with him, and he’s really not an unsuitable gentleman for me to attend a ball with. Why, when he came to ask me to go to the ball with him, he was ever so charming and even brought me a bouquet of flowers.”
Norman’s brow furrowed. “You never mentioned anything about flowers.”
Theo lifted her chin. “Now I have.” She turned back to Gladys. “But Mr. Cabot aside, I do not have plans on the Saturday after next, but—”
“Then it’s settled,” Gladys said before Theo could finish what was clearly going to be a protest on her part. “We’ll expect you at the house at . . . shall we say six? That’ll allow you to enjoy what I know will be a most exciting meal before Blanche attacks your hair.”
A tinge of pink began to stain Theo’s cheeks. “The meals at your home can be considered exciting?”
“The last time Roberta and Susan fixed a dinner,” Blanche said, “they tried to light a sauce on fire, but it caused an explosion and food went everywhere.”
The trepidation residing in Theo’s eyes disappeared, replaced with curiosity. “Did they include too much alcohol in the sauce, or was extreme heat to blame for the explosion?”
“You’ll be able to ask Roberta and Susan those very questions when you join us for dinner,” Gladys said with a nod, which sent her turban listing to the left. Pushing it back into place, she settled a smile on Theo, who was now staring at the turban, blatant curiosity in her eyes. “Is something amiss, dear?”
“I was merely wondering why all of you are wearing turbans.”
Gladys gave her turban a pat. “Oh, well, that’s easily explained, and is all due to—”
Blanche suddenly interrupted her by clearing her throat in a very dramatic fashion.
Gladys frowned. “Whatever is the matter with you, Blanche?”
Blanche jerked her head in Theo’s direction. “Do you believe it wise to go into the turban business, what with how I’m soon to get an opportunity to test out my new product on Theodosia?”
“Ah yes, quite right” was all Gladys said to that before she turned to Norman. “Because you’re apparently not going with Theodosia to the Palmer ball, may I be so forward as to inquire who you’ll be taking instead?”
Norman shifted in his chair. “Weren’t we just talking about turbans?”
Gladys gave an airy wave of her hand, sending her many bracelets jangling. “Not much else to say about those except that we feel they’re very fashionable and are hopeful this particular trend will catch on soon.” Her gaze sharpened. “Returning once again to the ball, who are you escorting?”
“Ah . . .” Norman began.
“His mother believes he should take Miss Pauline Dinneen or Miss Caroline Ashburn,” Theo said, finishing for him when he continued to sputter.
“That will never do,” Gladys declared. “Those two ladies, while charming and the perfect pictures of decorum, will bore you to tears.” She nodded. “You’ll take Beatrix.”
Beatrix sent her aunt a scowl. “You can’t order Norman to escort me to the ball. Besides, what if he doesn’t want to take me?”
Gladys quirked a brow in his direction, which had him swallowing and turning his attention Beatrix’s way.
“I wouldn’t, ah, mind taking you to the ball.”
Gladys laughed even as she patted his arm. “How marvelous, Norman, although I do believe I’ll need to fit you into my schedule as well because you could certainly use a bit of help regarding how best to secure a lady’s agreement to attend an event with you.”
“I never said
