Hattie Glover’s Millinery

smile as he braked to a halt.
“Good day!” he greeted her cheerily. “Lovely day for a ride, isn’t it? Won’t you come with me, Daisy, Daisy?”
Hattie gaped at the shiny new bicycle—not built for two—then glanced around to see who might be watching Hardy’s flirtatious display. “I don’t have a cycle nor do I know how to ride one.”
“You have one now, and I’ll show you how it works. Hop on.” He encouraged her to sit on the handlebars, but Hattie shook her head.
“I couldn’t possibly.”
He dismounted the bicycle, and smoothed the wrinkles from the trousers of his blue linen suit. “I will walk you then, if you’ll allow it.”
He hadn’t contacted her in two days and now he showed up expecting her to be thrilled and grateful. Hattie tried to act sour, but she was thrilled and happy to see him. Such a gorgeous, sunny day free of work was a gift to be enjoyed. So she walked with him as he wheeled the bicycle alongside him.
“There,” he gestured with a tilt of his head. “Isn’t she a beauty?”
Hattie stared at the machine parked on the pavement in front of her store. It was bluebell blue. A wicker basket hung from the handlebars, and Guy had filled it with a bouquet of flowers.
“Do you like it? It’s built for a woman so it’s not too large or heavy. You should be able to manage it.” He placed his machine against the wall and went over to pilot the blue bicycle toward Hattie. The wheels flashed around and around without a sound, and sunlight glinted off the shiny chrome spokes.
“Sit on the seat. I won’t let it move,” he promised.
“I couldn’t possibly. I’m in my best dress. I don’t even own cycling knickers.”
“Not every woman wears them. Plenty ride in skirts.”
“And often gain a poor reputation from it.” She regarded the machine doubtfully, pulled by the idea of zooming along under her own steam, but afraid of repercussions not having to do with falling off the cycle.
“Please don’t argue. I have a picnic lunch packed and a truck rented to transport us to the countryside as promised. No one will view your attempts there.”
“I suppose I could find suitable attire,” she mused.
“Hooray! Go change, and then we’re off on an adventure,” he fizzed.
“I haven’t said yes,” she remained, torn between excitement at the prospect and exasperation at his presumption.
Guy faced her across the bicycle, his eyes as blue as the painted metal and as imploring as a puppy’s. He picked up the bouquet from the basket and offered it to her. “Won’t you please go with me, Daisy? Do. I promise to bring you back at a reasonable time, well before dark. It will be such a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, don’t you think?”
Of course she did, so she said crisply, “Very well. Give me a few minutes.”
Hattie let herself into the store and stopped to take a peek at Guy through the window while inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers. He stood between the two cycles and stared across the street at the park. He’d removed his straw hat so his black hair shone sleekly in the sunlight. His profile was as sharp-cut as a Roman emperor on an antique coin. His linen suit had not the tiniest smudge to mar it, and he surveyed the world as if it belonged to him. Perhaps a large slice of it did, because he’d said he purchased the two riding machines as if the cost were of no consequence. She would have to disabuse him of the notion that she would accept the expensive gift. He must return it, or save it to give to some other woman in the future.
She hurried upstairs and changed into a split skirt she used to wear for horseback riding when she was young. Surprisingly, it still fit her although the style was outdated. Paired with a white blouse, a bow at the collar, and a cunning cloche hat with a side plume, she cut rather a spiffy figure according to her looking glass. In order to accommodate the close-fitting hat, she had taken down her hair and brushed it so it fell in loose waves around her shoulders.
After she rejoined Hardy, his gaze confirmed what the mirror had told her. “The perfect ensemble for a day in the country. The truck is parked just down the way. The fellow has loaned it to me until this evening. Will you walk your cycle and I will walk mine?”
Hattie took hold of the handlebars, feeling the cool metal through her gloves, and the weight of the bicycle rolling effortlessly. “I hope you meant to say you have rented these machines as well.”
“Nope. Bought them. It will provide you with an easy way to move about the city without having to take the underground, a tram or taxi. Besides which, I believe you will enjoy riding as a pastime.”
“I couldn’t possibly accept such an expensive gift. You must return it.”
“Too late. It’s mine now, and I am asking you to keep it for me. Perhaps you have enough space to store the thing in your workroom.” As if his bicycle weighed no more than a feather, he heaved his cycle into the back of the truck before reaching for hers. “Of course, you will have to oil the chain and take it on outings now and then so it doesn’t get bored.”
Hardy certainly knew how to make her smile, even when she was annoyed at his turning up without warning. She elected to let go of her annoyance and simply enjoy the day.
He helped her into the cab, then went around to climb into the driver’s seat.
“You know how to operate one of these,” she asked as he started the engine and fussed with the controls a bit before moving forward with a grinding of gears.
“It’s not too different from my friend Jolly’s Silver Ghost, which he allowed me to drive. I’ve thought of