“All that glitters is not gold,” I whisper under my breath as I look at the gorgeous pieces in front of me.
“Make her decent, Abraham. The last thing I need is to have people talking, to have the Assembly breathing down my neck.”
Abraham must nod or give some kind of nonverbal response, because their conversation is over and Colt walks up to my side.
“You like something here?” Colt asks, his voice changing from irritated to charming.
Turning to look up at him, he smiles and I swear it just makes me want to cry. How can he look so absolutely perfect in every way and be the exact opposite? Shaking my head, I clear my throat before I speak. There is no way I’m going to allow my voice to crack or anything like that, to show weakness.
“No, it’s all really pretty. I was just looking.”
He grins, dipping his chin before brushing my lips with his own. The bell above the door jingles and he immediately lifts his head, his eyes widening as he looks over my head. I don’t turn around, it’s not like I would know who was walking through the door anyway.
“Why, if it isn’t Mr. James,” a woman’s voice purrs.
At the sound of her voice I actually do turn around. She takes a step back when she sees me, then her gaze flicks down to my chest and her lips turn up into a grin. It’s then that I look at the woman’s chest and inwardly cringe. Her cleavage far outweighs my own, and I can practically see her nipples, it’s almost indecent.
“Miss Silks,” Colt mutters.
“You didn’t tell me that you’d chosen a woman, from where? A neighboring bordello?”
My stomach clenches. The dress that I thought was gorgeous. The soft yellow fabric, the way it made me look in the mirror, it all disappears and I want nothing more than to strip it off and burn it.
I hate it and myself right now.
Colt told Abraham that I was his whore so he dressed me accordingly and this woman knows it, which means basically everyone who has seen me today thinks that not only am I Colt’s whore, but that I made a living as a whore before he brought me to his side.
Fucking wonderful.
“It’s not your business, Bessie,” Colt snaps, though he doesn’t correct her.
Apparently, he’s not all that concerned with the fact that she just accused me of being a prostitute and he has no desire to educate her otherwise. Maybe it’s just easier that she thinks that of me, I don’t see how it could be, but I’m also not from this world.
“I suppose it’s not, Mr. James,” she sneers. “I’ll see you soon, I hope. Your standing weekly date is tomorrow. You’ve paid in advance, remember?”
Without another word, she turns around and I watch her walk out of the dress shop without buying anything or even talking to Abraham. She came in here to talk to us, to make herself known to me, and to be a bitch.
Colt doesn’t explain who she is, doesn’t say a word. Instead, he tells Abraham to get working on the dresses and that he expects them soon. Then, wordlessly, we walk out of the shop. I expect him to go back to his horse and get the fuck out of this town, but he doesn’t. Instead, he guides us toward another building.
I’m surprised when the scent of food reaches my nose before we even walk inside of the next building we approach. I don’t know why, but I didn’t expect to be fed on this little excursion. Colt opens the door for me and waits as I pass over the threshold.
He follows behind, then makes his way up to a small makeshift podium. There is a man standing there dressed much like Ernest, the silent man who seems to always be beside Colt at the house.
Colt murmurs something to him, but the man looks past Colt to me, then narrows his gaze before he murmurs something back and shakes his head once. Colt then says something else and he dips his chin then counters back.
“Come, we’re going to dine privately this afternoon.”
I already know why we’re dining privately. Because they don’t let whores in the main dining room. It’s painfully obvious and the fact that Colt thinks I’m too stupid to figure all of this out hurts more than anything.
Once we’re ushered quickly through the main dining area and to a private back room, we silently take our seats and I inhale a deep breath, closing my eyes and hoping that I can make it through this entire meal without breaking down into a crying jag.
Someone appears to take our order, but apparently, I’m not allowed to order for myself, because Colt doesn’t even give me an opportunity to find out what this place serves before he just orders something for the both of us.
I want to scream out of pure frustration, but I don’t. Instead, I sit silently, knowing that it doesn’t matter what I say, he thinks of me as absolutely nothing.
Chapter Eighteen
COLT
Dinner is full of awkward silence, but I’m not ready to have any kind of discussion with her in public. Especially not with the way everyone in this town has viewed her. I’m not sure what she is thinking right now, but I know what everyone else is thinking and that’s bad enough.
When our food is consumed, I leave some coins on the table, then quickly usher her out of the restaurant. We need to go back to the house. I have to finish my proposed revisions on the railroad system and have Ernest send them off
