Hattie Glover’s Millinery

door behind her and exhaled in relief. It wasn’t that she hadn’t enjoyed her outing with Guy Hardy. It was that she’d enjoyed it too much and had been far too aware of the handsome man beside her. An invisible telegraph wire strung between them clicked silent messages back and forth the entire time they spent together. And when she walked away from him, she swore she felt his gaze burning into her back. But when she glanced over her shoulder, he was gone.
Now she must do it all over again tomorrow; either fend off his advances or agree to lunch with him and waver on the tenterhooks of “should” and “shouldn’t.” Thinking about it tied her stomach in knots. Or were those kites of joy wildly swooping in her abdomen? Sometimes it was difficult to differentiate anxiety from exhilaration.
She realized she’d been frozen just inside the door for too long, when Rose called out. “Did you have a nice walk?”
Immediately, Hattie scanned the store to make certain there were no shoppers browsing. Although, why should she be concerned? It wasn’t as if anyone would know she’d come from a rendezvous. Still, tiresome worries always hounded her. Would she never escape the shadow of scandal that had fallen on her so long ago, or overcome the gnawing fear that her secrets might catch up with her?
“It was nice,” she replied. “But I could wring your neck for pushing me into going.”
“Me, push? I don’t believe I did.” Rose opened her eyes wide and fluttered her lashes innocently. “It sounds as if you enjoyed your outing. You should see Mr. Hardy again.”
“I doubt I will. He’s barely broken off his prior relationship, and I will not be some man’s passing entertainment.”
“Why not? He’s a handsome fellow, and it is springtime.”
“Handsome is as handsome does.” Aunt Elaine’s platitude echoed on Hattie’s lips as she unfastened her hat and regarded Rose. “You are a saucy one today. I think you forget you are my assistant.”
Immediately the woman’s spirits quelled and she seemed to deflate at her employer’s disapproval.
Feeling as if she’d kicked a small kitten, Hattie set her hat on the counter and seized Rose’s hands. “Don’t take my words too seriously. You know I adore you, dear. You are like the younger sister I never had. Tease me all you like, and don’t cower if you think I am displeased.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Rose flashed a smile and the sun returned.
Hattie tweaked the end of her friend’s up-tilted nose before continuing on to put her outdoor things away. When she hung up her coat, she noticed a small yellow stain on the front where her lemon ice had dripped.
As she dampened a rag to wipe the fabric clean, she considered Rose’s encouragement to see Mr. Hardy again. Hattie was not naïve and knew what to expect from him, so she would not be disappointed when he eventually lost interest in her. Meanwhile, why not enjoy the distracting pleasure of the man’s company for a bit. If she was cautious, what was the harm?
Hattie continued on to the work table where the hat for Hardy’s paramour was in progress. Rose had stitched on the gauze and ties, leaving the rest to Hattie to embellish. As she carefully attached the embellishments she’d chosen, she wondered about the woman who would wear the hat. Likely the mystery lady was sophisticated and elegant, well-versed in taking and discarding lovers. She would always say the clever thing, know the right people, wear the perfect gown. Hattie pictured this imaginary goddess and Guy Hardy together. They made a handsome pair. Then she imagined them behaving as lovers in the fullest sense of the word, and immediately clapped the photograph album closed on those images.
Impossible! She would not go to lunch with a fellow who was obviously toying with her. It wasn’t worth the risk for some fleeting pleasure. If her experience with Henry Abernathy had taught Hattie nothing else, it was that one hard-earned lesson.

Chapter Five
“Mrs. Glover, you must help me,” Jennifer Pruett wailed as she burst into the store the following morning. “Your advice did not work and I am at my wit’s end.”
The other two customers in the shop looked up curiously. One was browsing while Rose helped the other with some fashion advice. Hattie hurried to Miss Pruett before she could make more of a scene.
“It’s only a hat. I’m sure I can fix it. Don’t take on so.” Hattie ushered her to the back room and into a chair. “Idle tongues will wag, Miss Pruett. You must be more circumspect.”
“I don’t care who knows!” the girl proclaimed too loudly. “I want people to know I am to be sold into marriage by my own parents, who don’t love me at all.”
“Trust me. When your passion has settled, you will still have to deal with the consequences of being too free in your speech. Reality is a very hard taskmaster.”
“You promised me your support and a shoulder to cry on.”
“You have my shoulder and my support, but I am speaking from experience. I have suffered something similar to what you are going through.”
The girl paused in her hand-wringing to regard Hattie with raised eyebrows. “You did not wish to marry your husband and your parents forced you?”
“No. But in my youth I cared for an unsuitable fellow and said more than I ought to have about it. Shouted it, actually. Words once proclaimed can never be erased from memory.”
“Such a mysterious past you have had. I never would have guessed.” The distraction from her own woe seemed to calm Miss Pruett a bit. She sighed deeply before continuing on with her story. “I did as you said, spoke to Mother confidentially about not wanting to wed Lord Bellamy. As expected, she told me I was being foolishly romantic and should be glad to have gained the attention of such a catch so soon after my coming out.
“I said I didn’t care how