Time Will Tell

Time Will Tell - Part 19

If only she could stay in his soothing arms forever as he held and stroked her, making her feel like she was the most important thing in the universe.

Finally, he released his hold and said in a teasing voice, “I did have a purpose for searching you out this morning.”

In an effort to mirror his forced lighter mood, Libby picked up the discarded brush and turned back to the horse that had already been groomed. While stroking, she glanced playfully at Colin. “So, don’t keep me in suspense. Why are you here? Besides stealing kisses?”

“I wanted privacy.” The grin overtaking his face had her insides quivering. “In order to tell you we’re going into town this afternoon for new clothes. We’ll be leaving after lunch. Now that I’ve delivered my message, I’d better go before I end up doing something that will delay our day.” He turned and said over his shoulder while walking, “I’ll see you out at the track.”

Watching him saunter out, Libby could only marvel at his restraint. Gus’s warning was useless against the attraction that brought them together. She only hoped they both could overcome the heartache when it was time for her to go home.

~

Later that afternoon, Libby and Colin rode into Shelbyville to visit a dressmaker. Along the way she learned he’d already ordered several garments within days of discovering Libby’s secret. Madame Dubois was a talented woman, creating several dresses for Libby based on Colin’s description, using materials that had sat dormant since months before Abby’s death. He’d bought the material to please his wife, only Abby had turned her nose up at them after expressing the opinion that small-time dressmakers had no clue about the latest fashions. This way he could at least give the woman the orders she’d planned on a year ago.

Besides dresses, he’d ordered all the attire a woman in the late nineteenth century should wear, including chemises, corsets, and other undergarments. Libby’s jaw dropped and she had to fight to keep her eyes from bugging out of her head over all of the paraphernalia scattered around the shop. Saying that clothes were different in the 1870s than from her own time was an understatement. Things had definitely changed for the better, she thought, feeling like a trussed-up turkey.

“My designs are simple, oui?” Madame Dubois had a definite French accent. “But your slimness is becoming, so simple works, non?”

“I don’t look the same, that’s for sure,” Libby replied.

“Oh, non, mademoiselle, you look wonderful. Here, let’s try the ball gowns. Mr. Thorpe, he has a good eye, oui?”

Glancing at the two gowns, Libby could only agree. “Yes, these are beautiful. You’re very talented.” In her own time, Libby hated dressing up. She was more comfortable in a pair of jeans and an old shirt than she’d ever been in a dress. Even at the department store, she preferred slacks.

Stepping into one, she fell in love with the garment—the material and color. Colin obviously had exquisite taste. The fabrics he’d chosen for all of the gowns were vibrant and bold—midnight blue, emerald green, and deep mauves—colors that suited Libby, bringing out her features, especially her eyes. Her skin practically glowed against them.

Libby twirled back and forth, feeling gorgeous, like a princess going to a ball. The material followed in a sweeping motion that clung to her legs until momentum fanned it out again. There was something about playing dress-up that made a woman feel special, she thought, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. The corset did wonders for her figure. It cinched in her waist to add curves to her boyish outline and at the same time pushed up her small breasts. Imagine! She had cleavage for the first time in her life.