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We stared at each other for ages before I could no longer contain myself and began to giggle again.
The woman I’d nearly scared to death twice since arriving continued to gape, perhaps waiting for me to lunge.
“I apologize, Felicity,” I said, finally catching my breath. “I was running from Ms. Dillard.”
Another beat of silence passed, and I worried the girl might start crying. Instead, she bowed her head and joined my laughter.
When she was finally able to speak it was in a soft, dreamy voice, tears of mirth still shining in her eyes.
“I’ve done that a few times myself,” she confided, charmingly self-conscious. I warmed to her. She cleared her throat daintily, composing herself, and motioned to the bed where several outfits had been laid out for me.
“I was instructed to bring you these.”
Curious, I wandered to the bedside to examine the items. The first two were drop-waist dresses of wool crepe, identical in style, with pleated skirts and low sashes, each a different color: one a soft lilac, the other the deep green of summer moss. Their necklines were high, the sashes satin, and both were monstrously expensive. There were three plain wool skirts of varying colors—tan, blue, and chardonnay red—accompanied with long neutral-colored cardigans and bow-tie blouses. I ran my fingers over the silky lengths of the bows, shaking my head in wonder at their perfection.
The last item was a robe, a long, tie-waisted affair of creme velvet, its sleeves, collar, and hem a conglomeration of jewel-toned flowers.
“The professor supplied these?” I asked.
When she noticed my hesitation, her face became wary.
“I’m just surprised,” I clarified. “It was awfully short notice as I’ve only been here a day. Is there a shop in town?”
A tailor or ready-made department store nearby would give me somewhere to go if there were more days when I was left to my own devices and time stretched, empty and uncompromising.
“We knew you were coming, miss,” she said. “The professor ordered ahead, just in case. The winter air is different here, and the house is so cold.”
“How did he know my measurements?”
Felicity blushed so fiercely she resembled a spring poppy.
“Dr. Hannigan guessed.”
I ran my finger along the hem of one of the skirts.
“What an odd thing for someone to do,” I mused, and in response, the maid gave a gasping snort.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed, surprised at her own laughter. “No one here says things like that out loud.”
Out loud. Trepidation niggled me.
“If you like,” Felicity said gently, changing the subject, “I can help you get ready to meet Professor Hughes this afternoon when he returns.”
“Oh, is he gone?” That explained this morning. I considered Felicity’s offer. I liked this girl, and the urge for some uncomplicated companionship was appealing. “And, yes, maybe you can help me style my hair in a way other than ‘dowdy.’ Making myself up isn’t my strong suit.”
Pleased, Felicity agreed and suggested I choose one of the new outfits. I balked. I was, honestly, a little rankled. Professor Hughes had expected my clothes to be unsatisfactory. However, I had no real reason to refuse, so I chose the tan skirt and navy cardigan and dressed behind the teak wood screen, permitting myself to admire the quality of the fabrics. The outfit was a bit snug in the waist, only barely, and that was disguised by the roominess of the cardigan, which slouched prettily around the tops of my thighs. The doctor’s guesses had been miraculously accurate.
Felicity made her fuss, waving the hair around my face with a violet scented pomade and pinning the rest into an under plait, giving the illusion of a shorter fashion. We surveyed the results in the mirror when she was done. I was stunned by the way the simple change altered my face.
“Oh, miss,” Felicity said, “you look like…”
She stopped as though the air had left her.
“What’s the matter?” I asked
There was an impatient knock, and a harassed Ms. Dillard hurried in, not waiting to be invited.
“Felicity, there you are. I’ve searched high and low for you. The fires, see to them immediately, then Rodney needs your assistance in the garage. He’s put a trellis through one of the windows.” She rolled her eyes high to the heavens to indicate this wasn’t the first time he’d broken a window.
