"Pants," Oliver exclaimed, gesturing to the baggy silk pants Jack wore. "You're wearing pants to a dinner party?"
Corrie was wearing her finest dress, a cornflower blue satin with an empire waist, and her mother wore a similar dress in dark burgundy. Oliver as well was dressed to the nines in a pinstriped, double breast pocketed suit with a black bowler hat and cane. In contrast, in complete defiance of the carefully chosen attire of the rest of the family, Aunt Jack had entered the Walker house in nothing short of a pair of pants, a plain blouse, and a hat.
Jack looked surprised at Oliver's abject horror at her apparel. "Why, yes! They're called harem pants, and they're quite the rage in Paris. I read in a newspaper a few weeks ago that Parisians are wild over Middle Eastern styles of all varieties, and when I heard that they'd developed pants for women, I just had to buy some!"
Corrie covered a smile; she couldn't deny that the pants looked comfortable and even appeared to be finely made. They were loose from the waist to the ankle where they gathered tightly above a pair of boots rather than evening slippers. She should have known that Aunt Jack would manage to upset the Walkers' best laid plans.
"Well, it doesn't matter now," Anita interrupted with a scowl. "There's no time to change. Come along, girls."
Seeing the disappointment on Jack's face, Corrie took her aunt's arm and whispered in her ear, "I think the pants look marvelous, Aunt Jack."
Jack beamed a grin and brushed away a strand of dirty blonde hair that had already come loose from her hastily pinned hair. Following Oliver and Anita, Corrie and Jack climbed into the carriage and Mr. Bricker drove them to the Brendons' house. Though the Walkers had an automobile, Oliver preferred to travel by carriage around town. In the more rural parts of the country, automobiles weren't quite trusted yet.
A few minutes later, they arrived outside the Brendons' brick house and Mr. Bricker handed them out. Anita took Oliver's arm and Corrie and Jack, the old spinsters, joined arms to enter the house.
Inside, music played softly and the members of the upper echelons of Irvington society milled about, gossiping behind fans and casting judgmental looks at whomever they pleased. Corrie sighed, certain that between her college education and Jack's pants they would be the subject of much conjecture and hearsay.
"Mr. and Mrs. Brendon," Oliver exclaimed, clasping the hands of the genteel couple at the door. "We are delighted to be here. You know my wife, Mrs. Walker, and I believe you remember my eldest daughter, Miss Cornelia Walker." Corrie curtseyed obligingly. "And my sister-in-law, Miss Jacqueline Harrison."
Aunt Jack curtseyed as well as she could in the billowing pants, and Corrie caught the look of judgment in Mrs. Brendon's sharp gray eyes.
"It's a pleasure. Miss Walker, I understand you've been attending university in New York City. I take it you are still unwed?" Though Mrs. Brendon offered a smile, Corrie saw the cold yet curious light in her eyes.
"Yes, I'm pursuing my degree though I'm currently on hiatus due to the war," Corrie answered, refraining from responding to Mrs. Brendon's nosier question.
"And Cornelia is courting a very eligible young man," Anita intervened on her behalf, "a Mr. Edwin McAlister, an up and coming law student from one of New York City's most distinguished families."
Mrs. Brendon's supercilious expression faltered. "Is that so?"
"Yes, ma'am," Corrie answered with a nod of her head, not wishing to stir up more gossip.
"I believe you know my son, Miss Walker? Mr. Charles Brendon? He has been recently married to Miss Travis from White Stone."
"Congratulations," Corrie said, squeezing Jack's arm. "If you'll excuse us, we're going to get some refreshments."
Corrie and Jack scuttled away, and Jack let out a laugh as soon as they were out of hearing. "How long do you think it'll be before the entire town has heard everything you just said?"
"I suspect less than an hour," Corrie answered with a smile.
"I'm lucky," Jack declared, squaring her broad shoulders. "I've been unwed for so long that they've given up on me. They don't even bother me any more, a dyed-in-the-wool spinster."
"Either that or they're intimidated by your fine fashion choices," Corrie responded.
Jack laughed and kicked a foot out, displaying the material separating her two legs. Corrie's face burned a little as gazes turned in their direction, but she brushed away her embarrassment and laughed at Jack's antics.
For most of the evening, Corrie and Jack were able to avoid small talk with most of the guests, excluding the preacher, Reverend Jeremy Smalley, who happened to think that their wild ways were admirable and forward-thinking. Reverend Smalley liked the way Corrie had pursued her education, and Corrie talked to him if only because he didn't pester her about her marital status.
"And how is your sister?" Reverend Smalley asked in a hushed voice. "I understand her illness has worsened."
Corrie smiled, appreciating the reverend's genuine concern. "I'm afraid that Christina's health is the reason I've come home. She's not doing well, and the doctor fears she may never be able to walk again."
The reverend frowned gravely, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. "I'm very sorry to hear that. How has the young doctor been?"
"I'm afraid I haven't been able to meet Dr. Benjamin yet though his sister has been very obliging. The Benjamins are new to town, I believe?"
"Yes, they only arrived in Irvington when Dr. Harris retired."
"And it's just the doctor and his sister?" Corrie inquired, her curiosity getting the best of her.
"I'm afraid so. They lived in Richmond before this as the doctor was acquiring his education. Their parents passed away when Miss Benjamin was young, and he's raised her himself."
Corrie felt a glimmer of admiration for the unknown doctor; to protect a younger sibling was hard enough, but to parent her was a tremendous responsibility.
"They sound like they are good people."
"They are," Reverend Smalley said approvingly, "though I'm afraid the likes of the Brendons and such would find them lower class."
Correi grimaced, knowing that her parents were no doubt among those who deemed the Benjamins below them. She, however, was more apt to judge based on character than social standing.
Moments later, they were seated at the table, Corrie placed between Jack and a tall gentleman with kohl colored eyes and short dark hair. When Jack became caught up in a one-sided conversation with the overwhelmed lady beside her, Corrie reluctantly turned to the fellow beside her and offered him a polite smile.
The man returned her smile, his face handsome despite a narrow, crooked nose. "You must be Miss Walker."
"I am," Corrie answered, bowing her head slightly. "And you?"
"I'm Titus Fletcher, the foreman at the Brendons' farm."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Corrie answered as the young man straightened his jacket.
"You as well. Your parents have been so kind as to host me for dinner several times since I arrived a few months ago."
Corrie raised an eyebrow and smiled, grasping the reason behind her parent's hospitality. "How gracious of them."
Mr. Fletcher glanced up at her and grinned back. "Yes, they speak very highly of your younger sister; Christina, is it?"
With a laugh, Corrie answered, "Yes, Christina. I'm not at all surprised to hear it. Christina's suitor joined the army, and since that occurred, my parents have been trying to match her with another eligible gentleman. I'm sorry to hear you've been pulled into their ploy."
"It's no trouble. I've been made aware that both you and your sister are entertaining suitors?" Mr. Fletcher said, shooting her a discerning gaze.
No stranger to the delicacy of his inquiry, Corrie smiled softly. "You have heard correctly."
Mr. Fletcher nodded and glanced away, eyes lost for a moment. Corrie could see a longing in his gaze but she could give him no hope to sate it. She could only imagine how difficult it was for a young man to find a wife in such a small town as Irvington, but neither she nor Christina were suitable matches.
At the end of the dinner, they rose from their seats and Mr. Fletcher offered to escort her to her parents' carriage. As they stood and pushed back their chairs, Corrie withheld a gasp at the sight of Mr. Fletcher's prosthetic leg, a wooden contraption that started at his knee. No wonder he has not volunteered for the war. Mr. Fletcher caught her gaze and gave her a sad smile. Corrie felt great sympathy for the man but could do no more than return the smile and let him walk her to the carriage.
~~~~~
Have I mentioned how much I adore Aunt Jack? I'd totally wear pants to a party. Also, that was a subtle reference to Downton Abbey when Sybil wore pants and her parents had a conniption.
Do you have a favorite character so far? What do you think of Corrie?
Please vote and comment; more to come from our favorite spinsters on Friday!
~ Hannah