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But right here, right now? I’m with Theo, who I’m falling for—deeply, irrevocably, madly. And he’s in very nice, Victorian slacks and a Mr. Darcy shirt.
Didn’t men’s fashion move slow enough back then that Mr. Darcy’s white shirt would still be in circulation in some form during the Victorian period? I don’t know, but I’m choosing to go with that.
It comes time for us to disperse amongst the crowds and mingle. And for me to get out of this corset. “I brought some other clothes, so I’m going to go change,” I tell Theo.
“Let me guess. Your blazer?”
I answer him with a smile. “And I’m going to brush out the ringlets and remove the dozens of bobby pins that are poking me in the head.”
“Aw, I like the ringlets.” He sighs. He brings his hand up to tug gently on one of my curls near my low bun.
His Mr. Darcy shirt has inched to one side so that I can see the smallest part of his chest—the strong muscles and taut skin. The effect of it weakens my ankles.
“Aria, I need to go. There are a few things I need to wrap up. But can I come by and pick you up later?”
“Sure. I’m staying until the very end. I think my grandpa and siblings will be coming by a little later.”
“Enjoy that.” His smile is triumphant and proud. Like he’s proud of me.
“I will.”
He tugs me to him and kisses me.
I no longer care about the crowds.
Theo’s grinning as he helps me along the pathway from the festival at two o’clock. The storm is over. I even see some patches of blue sky to the north.
“There was some more money from today at the bottom of the donation stocking,” I tell Theo as we’re hand in hand. I feel so watched over by him. And handholding? It’s totally underrated.
“And it’s for the Flemings, right?”
“Yes, Liz and Marjorie are going to take it over to them in a bit. Straight cash. No time to buy anything special. It’s a shame they can’t buy some nice things for them, but maybe giving them the money is best.”
We cross the street and into the parking lot. As we near a large van, Theo unlocks it and opens the door.
“Milady.” Theo motions to get in.
“Traded in the Beemer?” I ask as I climb up into the seat.
“Borrowed it for the day. The Beemer is safely in my garage.”
“I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but this seems safer to drive in the snow anyway.”
“Maybe,” he says with a shrug. He’s purposely avoiding my gaze, and I get a thrill wondering what this is all about.
It’s not until we’re driving down the road that I hear things sliding around the back. I turn to see several boxes and bags.
“Were you Christmas shopping today?”
He keeps his eyes on the road. “I was. But don’t ask me any more questions.”
“Is all that stuff back there for me?”
“I said no more questions.” He bumps out a laugh.
I giggle, too. What is Theo cooking up?
When we pause at a stoplight, he faces me. “I heard it on good authority that your family Christmas Eve stuff won’t start until later, like seven. So I was wondering if I could spend some time with you?”
