It washot.
I hadn’t seen him since.
Which was a bummer.
That was, it was a bummer until now.
Since he was currently striding across the sidewalk lookinggorgeous wearing tan breeches, a navy-blue coat, a white shirt that was frothyat the chest (and he worked it), this underpinned by a black waistcoat andgrounded in black boots.
No neckcloth.
I’ll say it again.
Hot.
He came to my carriage door and opened it.
I was suddenly very aware that I still had the hairdo I hadat dinner a day and a half ago.
Though with a “traveling costume” which was a lot like mylast one, except the train was longer, it was a salmon color, and there wassilk frogging on the jacket and around the skirt above where it kicked out widein a graceful sweep.
He offered a hand, I took it, and he helped me down thesteps.
When I got to my feet, I looked up at him.
“Hey,” I whispered.
His head twitched, as did his lips, and he replied, also ina whisper, “Hey.”
“Milady, I’m sorry to interrupt, but…your hat,” Idinacalled.
I turned and saw nothing but, suspended in what seemed likemid-air out the carriage door, the massive salmon concoction that was mostlystiff netting edged in darker silk binding or ribbon that had a variety offrills and flips with some feathers sticking out.
I felt myself blush (blush!God!) as Loren reached out andtook the hat (because this felt strangely like he was reaching out and touchingmy person), then he offered it to me.
I took it, put it on my head, and now Idina, clearly one tobe thorough, was proffering an enormous, gilded hatpin.
Loren took that too, and again extended it to me.
My cheeks flamed as I took it.
Why was this embarrassing me?
Better question…
Why did it feel so intimate?
It took effort, but I focused entirely on pinning the hat tomy head, because, if I didn’t hit a hank of hair, that pin would hurt.
I managed that, then, as Ansley strolled our way from thecarriage that came to a halt behind us, somewhat desperately, I noted, “I’mpleased we made such good time, but can we go immediately to where my motheris?”
At this point, I saw the carriage Ansley was in clipclopping away.
I glanced around.
No Edgar.
“Where’s Father?”I asked.
