Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Adjustments

These thoughts were racing through my mind as I curled my fingers around Will's head, wishing I could thread my fingers through his hair like he was doing to mine. We hadn't been able to be alone for very often, or for very long and intended to take advantage of this opportunity as I let my hand drift from his waist, heading below his belt. The most we had been able to get away with was moments like this, a hurried kiss before we were interrupted. As if on cue I heard the knob to sitting room door turn, Peggy calling out as I snatched my hand back. "Miss, Ezekiel is here to take Mr. Murdoch to the shipyard. And your mother is waiting for you in the motor. Do you require a moment to fix your appearance?"

Will gave a groan, and I was thankful that I was hidden by the door as I hurriedly set my clothes to rights. He sighed, watching me. "I'll be right down Peggy, please make sure Ezekiel doesn't take off before I get there."

"Considering Mrs. Dalian has his cab blocked, I think you might have a chance Mr. Murdoch." Peggy chuckled, stepping away but leaving the door open. A very clear sign that we were to be respectable and emerge in a timely manner. Will tugged his jacket into place, leaving me with a kiss on the cheek before heading out. I had to take a moment to ensure that my hair hadn't fallen too much before I followed, waving to Ezekiel as I placed my hat on my head and joined Mother in the motorcar.

Mother looked over as I sat next to her, "Bidding farewell to Mr. Murdoch for the day?" I couldn't even think of anything to say, blushing and ducking my head as she chuckled. "Really Anastasia, I can understand loving your fiancé but must you indulge in those affections?"

"It's, it was nothing Mother. Just a simple kiss to say goodbye for the day."

"A simple kiss does not lead to your hair coming out of its pins. Take off your hat and let me fix it." She gestured for me to turn my back to her, the large hat with its bow and flowers in my lap as she gently twisted my hair back into its style. I sighed, enjoying the feel of her fingers on my scalp. I had always loved when she had helped with my hair when I was younger, often eschewing the nannies and governesses of the stylish set in favor of her own hands. I had remarked on the oddness of it when compared to the other girls my age one time, she had simply replied that she liked it and her own mother would have killed her to see her little girl being prettied by another's hand. Her hand lingered for a moment, "I just don't want to see you ruined, my dear girl."

"Will has sworn he will not go beyond kisses until we're married." I said as I turned in my seat to face the right way, "And he is serious about it Mother, we discussed it at his house in Southampton."

"That's another thing I wanted to speak to you about, going to his house? Unchaperoned? You should just be glad it was only Ezekiel who saw you, and that he refused to share it to anyone but me."

"I didn't know how else to find him, and I wanted to speak to him in private. Really Mother, you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm your mother, part of that role is to worry about you." She squeezed my hand, "And your reputation. What do you think the Reichsters would say if they found out about that? Samantha is already on a tear after coming back from Berlin, imagine what she could spin if she had that as ammunition. You would have to marry within a month."

Would that truly be such a bad thing? I was about to give voice to that thought when I looked to her, black and still as she watched me. A woman in full mourning couldn't attend a wedding, even if it was for her own daughter. Father already wouldn't be there, Mother had to be. She just had to. So I nodded, "I understand Mother, I will be better about ensuring that everything remains respectable."

"That is all that I want." She started as the car stopped, "Ah, Bloomingdale's. Perfect, ready for your fitting?" She and I made our way through the store happily, stopping to moon over soft gloves and elegant fans, hats freshly delivered from Paris shops and new dresses that hung straight down. Mother snorted at those, I knew she favored more feminine styles. Usually with a train. Which was why I found myself standing in front of several mirrors, wrapped in dark blue silk, covered in an even darker chiffon, with scattering patterns of gold beads catching the light, and a skirt that trailed five feet behind me and would have to be looped up for dancing.