“Do you like my dress, Miss Robinson?” Miss Burden all but purred. “I recently had it made for me after seeing a fashion plate in a magazine.”
“I think I saw that plate,” Theodosia said as she eyed Miss Burden’s gown. “And I do like it. You look very charming.” She turned to Beatrix. “Doesn’t she look charming, Miss Waterbury?”
Before Beatrix could do more than nod, Miss Burden was drawing herself up, looking scandalized. “Miss Robinson, surely you must know that it’s not quite the thing to draw a salesgirl into a conversation. I couldn’t care less what—Miss Waterbury, did you call her?—thinks about my appearance.”
“Where are my manners?” Norman said pleasantly, although a vein had begun throbbing on a forehead that was no longer covered with hair. “I’ve completely neglected to introduce all of you. Miss Waterbury, this is Miss Amelia Burden and Mr. Harvey Cabot. Miss Burden, Mr. Cabot, this is Miss Beatrix Waterbury, newly arrived from New York.”
For a second, Beatrix was certain Miss Burden was going to ignore the introduction, but then she gave a short bob of her head toward Beatrix as Mr. Cabot did the same. She then held out her hand. “Our tickets if you please, Miss Waterbury.”
Less than thirty seconds later, Miss Burden and Mr. Cabot were strolling away, tickets safely stowed in Mr. Cabot’s pocket.
“Was it only me, or was that a most uncomfortable encounter?” Theodosia asked, her gaze lingering on Mr. Cabot and Miss Burden.
“I’ve always found Miss Burden to be an unpleasant lady,” Norman said with a frown before he smiled at Theodosia. “Which is exactly why he wanted to escort you to the ball. You’re a very pleasant sort, and Mr. Cabot has evidently realized that, which is why he certainly invited you to attend the Palmer affair instead of Miss Burden.”
To say Norman’s declaration took Beatrix by complete surprise was an understatement.
She’d realized almost straightaway that Mr. Cabot had not been expecting to see Theodosia at the store, given the expression on his face and the way he’d immediately released Miss Burden’s arm. Norman had apparently noticed that as well, but had obviously been trying to reassure Theodosia about Mr. Cabot’s interest in her, something that was so kind, and yet so unexpected, that Beatrix found herself feeling somewhat tingly all over.
“Mr. Cabot seemed twitchy,” Theodosia said, looking to Beatrix. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Before Beatrix could respond, Mrs. Goodman appeared again, sending Beatrix a telling look, which had her encouraging Norman and Theodosia to return to Men’s Clothing.
Thankfully, they didn’t argue with her, leaving Beatrix free to get back to her job.
Glancing at a clock twenty minutes later, she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized she was almost done with her shift for the day. Relishing the idea of soon being able to kick off shoes that were pinching her toes, Beatrix moved to the counter right as a well-dressed lady stopped in front of it.
Before Beatrix could do more than nod, the lady flung her wrap Beatrix’s way, the heavy brooch that was attached to the wrap smacking her in the head.
A sharp pain immediately followed, and after grabbing hold of the wrap, Beatrix held it away from her, not wanting the blood dribbling from her hairline to stain the garment.
“You might want to show greater care the next time you check your wrap, madam,” she heard come out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
The lady drew herself up, not even flinching when her gaze settled on the blood. “What did you say to me?”
The condescension in the lady’s tone had Beatrix drawing herself up as well. Laying aside the wrap, the heavy brooch making a thud against the counter, she pulled out her handkerchief and began dabbing at the blood. “I said you should have a care with how you fling your things at people because, if you’ve neglected to notice, your brooch cut me.”
It really came as no surprise when, less than ten minutes later, Mrs. Goodman was standing in front of the coat check counter, informing her that, while Mr. Selfridge was away in New York, Mr. Bailer, the man who’d hired Beatrix, wanted to see her without delay.
Chapter 21
“Ah, Norman, there you are, darling. Had a nice run, did you?”
Norman used the tail of his shirt to blot his dripping face, turning to find his mother advancing toward the carriage house, determination in her every step, something that had him shuddering ever so slightly. Forcing a smile, he nodded. “It was a nice run, Mother, although it wasn’t as peaceful as I would have liked, not with Agent Cochran wheezing so much as he ran beside me.”
Mary drew to a stop beside Norman, looked around, then frowned. “Where is Agent Cochran?”
“I left him by the front fountain. He was in desperate need of a rest, so last I saw of him, he was sticking his bare feet in the water, looking quite as if he was about ready to toss up his accounts.”
“I do hope he doesn’t toss up those accounts directly into the fountain. That would be most unpleasant.”
“Indeed, although he wouldn’t be in that danger if he’d taken my suggestion of changing out of his clothes and making use of the running attire I offered to lend him after he insisted on accompanying me on my morning run. What I offered is much cooler than what he was wearing and more appropriate to run in.”
“You’re not wearing running attire, dear.” Mary gestured to his clothing. “You’re wearing what’s known as bathing attire, complete with a striped sleeveless shirt, which one normally expects to see a gentleman wearing when he’s at the beach, not running down Prairie Avenue.”
“True, but bathing attire is far more comfortable than the trousers and tight shirts some gentlemen wear when they participate in strenuous activity. And even bathing attire isn’t as comfortable
