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CHAPTER NINE
Golden didn’t let the evening end before she dashed over to Sunnybrook Nursing Home to give Claire the good news. Normally she would have waited until the weekend but this was just too wonderful to keep to herself. The most eligible bachelor in all of London – well, as far as she knew – had asked her out. Why, she had no idea but now was not the time for questions. Now was the time for celebration.
And who better to celebrate with than someone who understood her, someone with whom she could speak freely without fear of any of it getting back to a certain person, namely her stepfather.
“What a lovely surprise.” Claire’s face light up as Golden walked into the room. “What brings you here in the middle of the week?”
“Love.” The word slipped out, shocking Golden into momentary silence. Now where had that come from? “I mean, good news,” she stuttered, trying to cover her awful slip of the tongue. “I came over because I wanted to tell you about something wonderful that happened.”
“Well, don’t keep it to yourself, child. Sit.” Claire waved her over to the empty chair, eyes eager, a wide smile on her face.
Golden smiled back, relieved that she seemed not to have noticed the blunder. If she’d picked up on that one Golden knew she would never hear the end of it, not for a long, long time. In a place like Sunnybrook Nursing Home there was not much to keep one busy and the primary form of entertainment was gossip. Golden’s slip would have been the topic of many a conversation, she was sure.
Now, at least, she would have the chance to share her news in her own way and love had absolutely nothing to do with it. How could she love a man she’d known for all of two months? Her mind and her tongue were playing tricks on her, that was all.
“I don’t know if I should tell you this,” she began and grinned as she watched her adoptive grandmother squirm. She was being naughty, torturing Claire like this, but it was so much fun. At the old woman’s glare she caved in. “Okay, okay, I’ll talk. I...” she said, dragging out the word, “was asked out,” she raised her eyebrows, “on a date. My very first date.” As she said the words Golden almost clapped her hands in delight, she was so thrilled. She held it in, though. Of course she wouldn’t do anything as childish as that.
Instead of lifting, Claire’s frown deepened. “What are you saying? You’ve never been out on a date before?”
Golden felt the blush rise in her cheeks. She couldn’t help it. This was an embarrassing situation to be in. How many twenty-year-olds were as backward as she was, where men and dates were concerned? She had Dunstan Manchester and his rules to thank for that. Her lips tightened at the thought.
“No, not yet,” she said, her voice subdued as she fought to swallow her shame, “but all that’s going to change soon. This Saturday night.” Just saying the words made her feel bright again and the smile slipped back onto her face.
“Well, it’s about time,” Claire huffed. Then her face cleared. “So who is the lucky young man?”
“My boss. Reed Davidoff.”
“I knew it. I knew you had your eyes on that man.”
Golden gasped in horror. “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t the one who asked him out, Claire. He did the asking.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Claire said, waving her hand as if dismissing Golden’s objection. “The important thing is, you’ll be going out with him. You know what that means, don’t you?” Her eyes twinkled as she smiled at Golden. “Possibilities.”
Claire Bertlamb was something else. Golden could only smile back at her, amused at the crafty look on the woman’s face. She was probably busy planning all sorts of things, a wedding included. That was a laugh if there ever was one. A possibility, that was not.
“Now don’t get any ideas,” Golden warned. “We’re just going out for dinner, that’s all. This may be the first and the last time the man asks me out.” Then she grimaced. “Or maybe it will be the only time I ever get to go out. Once my stepfather hears about this the pressure will be on.”
“Excuse me? You’re twenty-one, are you not?”
“Not twenty-one yet but almost there. But you’d think I was twelve, the way he treats me.”
“So what’s wrong with him?” Claire demanded, obviously taken aback by Golden’s prison-like living situation. “At that rate you’ll never find a husband.”
“Exactly. But don’t worry about it, Claire,” Golden said, patting her hand, “I’ll figure out a way to get around him. It will be all right.”
“It had better be,” Claire mumbled, “or else I’ll have to have a word with that man.” Then she gave Golden a quizzical look. “And what about that mother of yours? What does she have to say about all this?”
“Well...” Golden hesitated, not wanting to bring her mother into the discussion. Eugenia was the most difficult factor in the whole equation. Every decision Golden made was centered around its impact on her mother and that was the problem. As long as her mother was in the middle of things she would never be free. “I haven’t told her about this yet,” she said finally, “and I probably won’t. It’s...easier that way.”
Claire’s lips tightened and she shook her head. “It’s a sad state of affairs,” she tsked, “when you have to hide your joys from your own mother. You need to remove yourself from that environment. It’s stifling you.”
“I wish I could.” Golden’s voice was nothing but a whisper but the shadow that crossed Claire’s face said she’d heard every word. Another great time to change the subject. “I’m thinking I’ll wear my black dress with the gold piping. What do you think?”
“The same dress you wore to Gertrude’s funeral last year? That old thing?”
That drew a gasp from Golden. “It’s not old. I’ve only worn it twice.”
“And make sure you don’t ever wear it again,” Claire said crossly. “That dress makes you look older than I am.”
Now that was deflating. Golden let out an exasperated breath. “But it’s the only thing I have that’s appropriate.”
“Appropriate? What kind of a word is that for a young girl to use? You’re describing the dress you’ll be wearing when you go out with this young man of yours. You don’t want appropriate. You want lovely, you want elegant. No,” she put up a finger, “you want sexy.”
“Sexy?” Golden had to laugh. “Claire, that wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Stop saying that word.”
“All right, I’ll stop.” Golden put up a hand in surrender. “But I honestly think that’s the perfect dress for a dinner date. I don’t want my boss to think I’m being flirtatious. And besides,” she shrugged, “I can’t afford to buy anything fancy. I spent my first paycheck on work clothes.
“Get the money from your mother, child. What do you think mothers are for? Most likely, she’ll love the excitement of taking you shopping for your first date, late as it is.”
“I don’t think so,” Golden said, her voice hesitant. “I doubt that mother would give me a loan.”
“Loan? What loan? Can’t she spend some money on her own daughter?” Her face flushed with anger, Claire looked ready to hit somebody.
“Claire, you don’t understand. It’s not that easy, not with Dunstan Manchester in the picture. He wouldn’t let her.”
“He wouldn’t let...” Claire began to sputter and now she was growing really red in the face. “Who does he think he is? Is this the nineteenth century?”
“Please, Claire, don’t.” Golden leaned forward and laid a hand on her arm. “Don’t get so upset. I’ll figure something out. I could check the thrift store-”
“Thrift store? Are you mad? For the dress you’ll wear on your first date?” Claire flung Golden’s hand off her arm and pointed to her handbag lying on the table by the window. “Hand me my bag,” she said, her tone imperious. “I need my checkbook.”
“For what?” Golden did not budge. She could guess what Claire had in mind and she had no intention of letting her do it.
“I’m giving you some money so you can get yourself a nice dress.”
“I don’t want your money.” Golden bit her lip. The words came out sharp and cold, causing Claire to raise her eyebrows. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, just in case she’d offended the woman, “but I didn’t mention the date so you would offer me money. You’re very kind but please, I’m quite all right.”
Claire gave an exasperated sigh. “Take it as a loan, then. You can pay me back when you’ve saved enough money. You have to get something from Harrods, my dear. You deserve nothing less.”
