The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(36)
Peggy had finished her tea and cake, and although she'd pretended that she hadn't been paying attention to them, she'd heard every word the two of them had exchanged. It was easy to see that they were both attracted to the other.
This should prove interesting, Peggy was thinking as she was a romantic at heart.
As no one wanted more tea, Mr. Hutton offered, yet again, to accompany them home. He hailed a cab easily, and they were soon on their way. A half hour later, they were back at the terrace of Georgian houses where they lived side by side. Peggy rushed ahead to knock on the door, while Alistair came up the flight of steps with Bathsheba. Patterson, the butler, opened the door for the women.
They had already established in the cab the details for their evening at Mrs. Pemberton's so there wasn't a lot left to say.
Bathsheba thanked him one last time for the tea and stepped over the threshold.
“Miss Baxter,” Alistair caught her attention one last time before the door shut.
“You may like to keep this as a souvenir or as an indication of what is still awaiting your perusal.”
He thrust the gallery's programme into her hands with a chuckle and left without waiting for a comment. It was probably just as well because Bathsheba had been caught off guard and didn't know what to say. She watched him turn right at the bottom of the steps before Patterson shut the front door.
Her stomach was doing strange things once more.
“Blast!” she said, much to Patterson's surprise, who quickly opened the door again, afraid that he had been too hasty in closing it.
She was not aware though, because her mind was already focussing on the 21st of the month. Patterson stood wondering if his mistress was ailing? In any case, she was behaving most peculiarly.
Chapter 3
The first thing Bathsheba did was to search for her father to quiz him on any upcoming events in which they might be involved. The search barely took a couple of minutes as Mr. Baxter was in the library, where he spent the majority of his time. He confirmed that the Baxter family did not have anything on their agenda for the 21st of the month, which didn't really surprise Bathsheba. His attention returned to what he had been doing without so much of a raised eyebrow. That was her darling father, who loved her dearly, but who was ever consumed by his latest business endeavours.
As soon as she had reached her bedroom, she'd gone through her wardrobe in search of suitable evening wear, but had found nothing to her liking.
This is ridiculous. Why am I bothered about what I wear? My clothes are decent and Mrs. Pemberton is known to be unimaginative when it comes to fashion. She usually wears something quite unsuitable. She was talking to herself as she re-examined her dresses a third time.
If I am honest, it is because I don't wish to disappoint Mr. Hutton. I like him. There, I've said it.
She put both hands to her cheeks. She could feel that the admission had warmed her face. She wanted to cry because she knew that it would end badly, once again. If she were classified as a spinster today, there was a good reason. The men she was drawn to were almost inevitably, all wrong for her. Years had been lost with trials and errors through no fault of her own. The duds had always come to her.
Well, this will be my last attempt at socialising. It will be agreeable for a change to be escorted to a soirée on the arm of a gentleman.
She'd made a feeble attempt to contact her cousin James hoping to learn more about Mr. Hutton. It was feeble because contacting him had made her feel guilty, like she was going behind someone's back, which she was, of course. James wasn't in London, so she had been able to breathe a sigh of relief. She had committed to going to the concert and that was it. It hardly constituted a declaration or obligation of any sort.
As nothing in her closet pleased her, she made a trip to her dressmaker's to see what she would be able to offer. She had two weeks to produce something.
As everyone knows, the servants are always aware of what is going on in neighbouring households. It was Peggy who casually informed Bathsheba that Mr. Hutton was away on business. She had guessed that her mistress was disappointed that Mr. Hutton hadn't called since their afternoon in the museum. As a result, she quietly patted herself on the back as she saw Bathsheba's mood brighten. She would love for her mistress to find someone with whom to settle down and make a home. She wasn't yet too old to have children, either. Peggy was projecting herself onto her mistress because there would be little chance for a maid to marry now that she was thirty-five and without a prospect in sight.
The morning of the 20th, Mr. Hutton left his calling card with the intention of returning in the afternoon to see Mr. Baxter and his daughter. It was all Bathsheba could do not to giggle upon seeing the card. She was no better than a sixteen-year-old.
Her dress had been delivered the day before and she had tried it on twice; just to make sure it had nothing wrong with it. Her dressmaker had worked wonders in a short time. She had had the advantage of adapting a dress that had been ordered and then declined by another client. It was a smidgen more extravagant than Bathsheba would normally have considered, but only a wee bit. In a way, she was glad that her hand had been forced, because the dressmaker couldn't promise anything else in time.
Because of her age, Bathsheba could now wear dresses of a darker colour. This dress was a deep burgundy silk crepe over a deep burgundy sarsenet. Its body was cut low and square around the bust with the bosom trimmed with a slender roll of crepe intermixed with jet beads. The skirt was not too full. It finished in fairly wide scalloped edges, each scallop with an embroidered burgundy rose. The weight of the embroidery contributed to the attractive way the skirt fell to her feet. The jewellery she would wear with it was of jet to match the dress's trimmings. The aigrette headdress was also trimmed with jet.