Striding down the rack of coats again, Beatrix hung up the lady’s jacket before heading back toward the counter, where the line was getting longer. Her pace slowed, though, when she caught sight of Miss Dixon and Miss Jaycox simply standing by the counter, both of them giggling as they chatted with a well-dressed gentleman.
That giggling was frowned upon was not in question, which had Beatrix squaring her shoulders, knowing an intervention was in order before Mrs. Goodman arrived on the scene.
Edging around Miss Dixon, who was actually fluttering her lashes at the gentleman standing on the other side of the counter, Beatrix summoned up a smile, her smile dimming when she got her first good look at the man.
He was dressed to the nines, sporting a well-tailored jacket that showed off his broad shoulders and was tapered to perfection, accenting the trimness of his waist. A gray-and-blue-striped tie knotted in the Avondale style sat against a brilliant white wing-tipped collar.
Lifting her head when she realized she was giving the gentleman a more-than-cursory glance, Beatrix sucked in a sharp breath when she got her first good look at the man’s face, releasing that breath when the gentleman sent her a grin.
“Hello, Miss Waterbury.”
The floor beneath her feet seemed to tilt when she realized that standing in front of her was none other than Norman Nesbit, but he’d changed, drastically so.
Gone was the long brown hair she’d become accustomed to, replaced with a style that was brushed carefully away from his face. The absence of hair straggling into that face allowed her to realize that while she’d always thought Norman was attractive in an absent-minded scientist sort of way, he was actually a devastatingly handsome man.
Peculiar as it seemed, she found herself missing the disheveled Norman, because that Norman she’d been getting to know, but this new Norman, well, she had no idea what to make of him.
“What in the world have you done to yourself?” she finally managed to get out, wincing when she realized her voice sounded a bit squeaky.
His grin widened. “Visited a new barber, one over at the Palmer House.” He leaned closer. “He took forever to shape up my hair, time I worried was wasted, but because you seem to have immediately noticed the difference, I’m now of the belief it was time well spent.”
“You’ve done more than simply cut your hair.”
Norman nodded. “Indeed.” He brushed the sleeve of his jacket. “Went through my entire wardrobe with Theo and my sister Constance and found numerous items I didn’t even remember I had.” He presented her with a bow. “What do you think?”
“Ah . . .”
Someone coughed behind Norman, which had Beatrix’s scattered thoughts snapping back into place. However, before she could do more than nod at the lady standing behind Norman, impatience oozing from her every pore, Norman turned and smiled at the lady, who immediately returned his smile, all of the impatience she’d been directing at Beatrix disappearing in a flash.
“Forgive me,” Norman began, taking the hand the lady didn’t even seem to realize she’d held out for him. “I’m holding up the line, an inexcusable offense.” He placed a kiss on the hand. “Mr. Norman Nesbit at your service.”
The lady’s eyes widened as her cheeks turned pink. “Good heavens, Mr. Nesbit. I didn’t recognize you. I’m Mrs. Samuel Allerton, a friend of your sister Alice.”
Norman inclined his head. “But of course you are, and do forgive me for not recognizing you immediately. I fear it’s been far too long since I’ve had an opportunity to greet you.”
As Mrs. Allerton launched into when she thought she’d last encountered Norman, which seemed as if it might have been a few years prior, Beatrix took another moment to look him over, the floor seeming to tilt under her feet again when she realized the brilliant white collar he’d chosen to wear was one she’d picked out for him.
Why that small detail would have the ground feeling unstable was somewhat befuddling, but before she could dwell on that, Norman was assisting Mrs. Allerton with her wrap, smiling charmingly at the lady, the charm in that smile doing absolutely nothing for the state of Beatrix’s balance.
“. . . simply delightful to see you, Mr. Nesbit,” Mrs. Allerton all but gushed as Norman continued smiling at her. “Do give your sister my best.”
“I’ll be certain to do that, Mrs. Allerton, once she returns from Paris, but we seem to be holding up the line, so perhaps we should bid each other adieu.”
Mrs. Allerton glanced over her shoulder, frowned at the ten ladies waiting behind her to check their wraps, then nodded to Norman, who then finished helping her out of her coat. She sent him a warm smile before she turned to Beatrix, the smile disappearing in a flash. “My claim ticket.”
Beatrix summoned up another smile, passed a claim ticket not to Mrs. Allerton, but to Norman, who was holding out his hand, then watched as he gave the ticket to Mrs. Allerton, returning the smile that lady gave him before she turned and glided away.
“I’m going to need you to hand over Mrs. Allerton’s wrap so I can hang it up,” Beatrix said after Norman turned around to face her.
Norman’s brows drew together. “I recently read that a gentleman is never to hand over items that need to be hung to a lady who is not his wife, which is leaving me in a bit of a quandary.”
“Where did you read that?”
“Harper’s Bazaar, so maybe I should nip back there and hang up Mrs. Allerton’s wrap so that I’m not committing what the author of that article said was a grave offense in regard to proper decorum.”
“You can’t come behind the counter, Norm—er, rather, Mr. Nesbit. That’ll get me dismissed for certain, so . . .” She held out her arms, which had Norman placing the wrap somewhat
