Bloody Red Doll
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Yana Toboso and Square Enix, Co. Ltd. I don't own them; I just examine all their possibilities.
Part 52
We had a lovely, romantic evening planned at Hamish's apartment. After all that had gone on this week, we needed a nice, relaxing evening in each other's company. This thought kept me sated all night. I could chat with him and go about our usual business at the theater, later I would have ample opportunity to ask some serious questions.
Right after everything was settled for the night we walked back to Hamish's flat. By now we weren't bothering to travel separately to go to the same place. Everyone knew we were close chums by now, I personally didn't care if anyone suspected anything. It had been three bloody months, everyone had ample time to make their own conclusions: Colin surely had.
Hamish lit plenty of candles and had a nice bottle of claret out. He was roasting a small bird over the fire and throwing some potatoes in a stewpot, I sat back on the couch with a glass of wine in my hand.
"Colin and I talked about you today," I said, sipping my wine.
"Oh did you," Hamish responded with a snicker. "Gossiping were you?"
"Dreadfully so. He was just telling me how long he's known you, little bits from your theater career, all about the slew of musical partners you've had over the past few years."
I didn't know if I should have been amused or aggravated by his guffaw. Regardless I did chuckle along, if not sarcastically.
"He especially wanted to mention that to me, since I seem to be one in a line," I continued. "What's this I hear that you will take on a fair youth as your muse then trash him the moment you're bored? Colin was only speaking in musical business terms; he didn't mention if buggery were involved, but then I'm sure he's he has his own interpretations."
"He told you this to warn you, didn't he?" Hamish said, walking towards me. "The last thing he wants is for his new friend to be exploited by his old friend, am I right?"
"That was the heart of it."
Hamish walked back to the fire to check on the bird, then he walked back up to me, taking a seat in a chair across from me. I took another sip, keeping my expression even though my glare was right on him.
"Colin is absolutely correct," he said.
I was a little surprised by the plain look on his face and the matter-of-fact way he delivered this admission.
"Like I told you already, I've done my fair share of bed hopping," Hamish continued. "And yes indeed, I liked to find young protégés. I love men of talent, especially young talent. I love having them around me, and yes I have loved having them in my bed. And yes there were many and yes I wasn't entirely tactful about getting rid of the old for the new. Yes I am most aware I left a string of broken hearts in my wake and likely more than a few broken careers. I did this because I was an idiot."
He leaned forward and looked me right in the eye.
"I'm an artist of overflowing passions, Grell, and my moral compass was in sore need of recalibrating," he said. "I made some very bad mistakes; mistakes I don't intend to repeat."
I slowly sipped, swirling the contents of my glass and looking down at the couch.
"You've seen the error of your ways," I said. "Your brush with death has given you a new perspective on life. You want to get right with God and humanity, hence why I'm not just another rag you'll toss off with and toss away. You realize how rubbish that all sounds."
"Most certainly," he replied. "Would I trust me, certainly not. I would just hope that someone would at least make the attempt. If I fall short of any expectation, just one word and I will seek my redemption in other places."
I looked up, his gaze settled right on me. I had to admit I was most impressed by how forthright he was being. It sounded as if he was confessing everything. Come to think of it bloody moral high ground did I have? It's not like I've never done my share of bed hopping. Then again did he ever leave any of his past lovers in a pool of blood? Perhaps he was the better man. I put my glass on the table and leaned forward.
"Hamish, my own moral compass has been hardly on point either," I sighed. "I have little room for righteous judgment. I am, however, a little tired of being some man's fun time or another man's harem girl."
Though what the hell did I want to be? My own speech was just bringing up more questions. Just how did I see the two of us anyway?
"And I'm bored with having any of that as well," he responded. "I have been on that end of it too, I know exactly what you're talking about."
He looked down and sighed hard.
"I'm twenty-six years old, do you know how many weddings I've been to in the past several years?" he said. "I'm not a boy anymore, though I certainly act like it. It wasn't just the flu that put matters into perspective, it was a lot of things. I don't know what I want for my life, I just want something real for once."
He reached over and took my hands. I looked in his eyes, every word he said resonating through my being.
"That was why we waited, wasn't it?" I asked
He nodded.
"The last thing I wanted was to waste something good," he replied. "Grell, I can't promise you we'll be together forever. But I want to be with you and share with you for as long as possible. You have my utmost word; I will never just toss you away like you're nothing. If you don't trust that word, I can't blame you, but please at least give me a chance."
I lifted his hands and kissed his fingers.
"I want something real too, Hamish," I said softly. "And I'm willing to take you at your word. If you ever decide I'm not worth your time or you see something you like better, do me the courtesy of telling me. I'm not a weak little girl, I can take bad news. I only ask for respect and consideration."
"And you shall have it," he said, kissing my hands as well. "I promise you that."
He rose up and took a step forward, then he leaned down and kissed me. I craned my neck up and returned the kiss, savoring the moment. I wanted to trust him, I wanted this to last for a long time as well. Whatever happened between us was what happened, I was content leaving it at that.
He finished cooking dinner and we ate our scrumptious meal together. Not a word more was spoken about that matter, I was happy to just enjoy the moment. After dinner we played, we sang, we told stories. Later we made love and fell asleep in each others arms.
I was content to leave the matter be. I had my answers, I had my own understanding of the situation. I also knew to keep a sharp eye out, though the idea of vigilance and paranoia just annoyed me. I didn't know just what Hamish and I were to each other, did I really have any room for jealousy? No, I did not enjoy the thought of him taking off for some other young buck, though I could think of worse insults.
We did a few jobs early in the week like normal. Barely a word was spoken of our conversation. On Tuesday night I did ask him if he would go to the theater cross with Colin.
"Not at all," he said in a dismissive tone. "I'm man enough to admit my shortcomings, and he was right to say something. I know he was protecting you. He cares for you like a son, it's clear as day."
I smiled a little at these words. Perhaps that had been my hope, maybe it was clear to so many more people.
Hamish mentioned something else later.
"I wouldn't worry too much about Colin having any morals against men like us," Hamish said. "He's had so many 'actresses' who were not entirely that. Not to mention he's done entertainment in a few molly houses himself. I'm sure he doesn't lean in that direction , though I wouldn't give too much care to whether he'd react with righteous indignation. In fact he probably suspects what's going on with us, hence his warning."
This word made my heart a bit lighter. I knew, however, one can never be too careful. As much as I loved Hamish and as much as I wanted to trust him, I couldn't afford to give him my full confidence. I knew that before and hearing of his little escapades only made me warier. I wanted to trust Colin as well, however that was another unknown with which I could not afford to tinker.
I went back to the theater on Wednesday as normal, Hamish arriving later in the evening. Hamish and I kept our appearances of being close friends, I did occasionally glance at Colin to see if he was paying any closer attention. I just saw his usual smile as he walked past us and spoke with the company. By the end of the evening I was a bit more relaxed and ready to leave the matter be.
The routine continued as normal; no more suspicions, no more dramatics, Colin kept his mouth shut and Hamish and I were as close as could be.
We went to Lady Marigold's a few more times, sometimes to play, other times to just enjoy a free evening. Hamish took me to a few more molly houses too, some a bit more raucous. Someone recognized him from each one of these establishments. I did have this minor fear that I would run into one of his former muses in one of these places. Hamish assured me he would keep on the lookout, though such an encounter was unlikely.
"This is a society all its own and how these ladies love to gossip," Hamish told me with a laugh. "I have quite a few friends, especially friends at the door who would not wish for matters to come to blows."
It as reassuring on one end, though mildly unsettling on another. Perhaps these poor boys were banned from such lovely establishments. Not only did they have to deal with Hamish's rejection, but the rejection of some clod at the door looking down his nose. Perhaps this would be how I would know when Hamish found someone else, though I brushed that thought away.
The more of these establishments I went to, the more my eyes went on the lovely ladies and their lovely dresses. Hamish was no longer receiving my jealousy, instead I was placing it upon these girls. Most were not simply wearing a boring skirt and white shirt. So many wore grand ball gowns, high wigs, powdered faces with red lipstick. Few were the picture of feminine beauty, I was so much prettier than they and here I was in my simple boy's outfit.
If only I still had my gown, the lady would dance happily with her handsome suitor, happy at last. I could hear her whimper a little or snap in envy. She was screaming to come out. She escaped the hell of Lord Oxford's manor and wanted to enjoy her freedom at last. Patience, I whispered to her, I would find a way to bring her out.
I didn't say anything to Hamish about my desires. Just because he was familiar with these mollies didn't mean he would ever dream of being with one, perhaps he truly found such behavior disgusting. I intended to simply keep my lips pursed. Intentions of silence aren't always kept when liquor is involved. One night we sat on a couch watching a few ladies dancing.
"Look at them," I said to Hamish after a few glasses of gin. "Old bags in lovely dresses, I look so much prettier than that."
I was in a state where I was aware of what I was saying, just not keeping myself from saying so. Even in this state I realized I might have said too much. Hamish snickered a little.
"I'm sure you make a lovely woman," he said.
"I'm a gorgeous one," I snapped back. "Alas I lack my gown; I left it in Oxford as I as kicked out. Oh why did I leave it? I lived in hiding, how I could be the belle of the ball if only I had a proper gown."
I realized my voice was cracking and tears were spilling down. I was becoming right choked up. I felt Hamish's arm wrap around my shoulder and he pulled me closer. I lay my head on his shoulder and let out a few tears, though I was just waiting for the snickers.
"Someday soon, love," he whispered in my ear. "You shall have a gown fit for your beauty. I know this to be true."
I looked up at him, seeing him giving me this mischievous smile. My brows furrowed, he kissed me on the cheek. I leaned into his shoulder again and nuzzled his neck, he ran his hand through my hair. I didn't know if this was an offer or some assurance to get me to shut the hell up; either way it felt good.
The topic was left alone right after that night, perhaps this confirmed my suspicions that Hamish simply said that to coddle me. Not like I was expecting anything from him, though the idea of having another gown burned a little hotter in my mind. Perhaps this was my inspiration to see if I could indeed craft my own. I took a better look at the construction of the dresses and robes in the theater's wardrobe, considering potential patterns and materials. It would be an ambitious endeavor, but maybe I was due for a side project. Even if it turned out dreadful, it would be better than nothing and it would be an experience.
It was drifting toward the end of October. "Twelfth Night" would be ending the second week of November, Colin said he was now considering the Christmastime drama. I gave a little more thought to how much of a role I wanted. I was aware that December marked the end of term and the onset of holiday for all the Oxford brats. By now though I was caring a little less about them. The thought of someone approaching me barely bothered me in the least, now I knew I had a measure of protection with my fellows. As I was thinking on this, so many were saying the same thing.
"You know you want a meatier part, who cares about some bratty schoolboys who wouldn't be caught dead in this part of town anyway," George said to me.
Colin overheard and gave a chuckling "here here."
I know Hamish was leaning on me a bit hard.
"Me being front and center all the time and you on the side, it really doesn't feel right to me," he said one night. "We need to be a double threat, the two of us knocking all their stockings off."
I was a bit more encouraged by this.
As October drew to a close, I moved guesthouses again. I mentioned my move to Hamish for information purposes. He simply nodded in response, though I noticed this curious look on his face. I ignored it, he was tuning his mandolin at the time and I figured he was simply deep in concentration. We practiced a little, then took a pause. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, that curious expression back on his face.
"Allow me to ask something that may seem a bit rash," he said.
"Go right ahead," I replied with a little chuckle.
"Why even bother with a guesthouse?" he said, looking right at me. "It seems you're over here more than you are there. I have plenty of room. Why don't you stay here with me?"
I was a bit startled by the question. I looked at him with furrowed brows, my mind still not fathoming what I was just asked. His smile widened and he looked at me like a proud dog who had just done a good deed.
"I would ask for some simple contribution, perhaps for food or firewood; it would probably be a hell of a lot less than you're paying for those bloody rooms," he continued. "There would be no leaving in the morning, no worries about unknown guests just a wall away. Besides you don't know how many dirty looks I've gotten from your innkeepers for simply being a visitor."
I nodded at this, I had seen some of these looks myself.
"Besides, Grell, you've been living in London for nigh on five months; perhaps now's a good time to settle in a bit more," he said.
I looked down at my violin, still trying to process what was being discussed. Naturally my first coherent thoughts were worries.
"I still don't know if staying in one place would be wise," I sighed. "I've been trying to stay on the move a bit, not keep too many patterns."
"Yet you stay at Mersey Hall, the one place the schoolboys might know where to find you," Hamish replied. "And how many run-in's have you had in half a bloody year? That would be absolute nil from what you've told me."
"And I would rather it stayed that way. Hamish, I care for you deeply. If I stay here this isn't just me at risk, the last thing I want is for you to become collateral. I don't know what the Oxford boys may do, though I don't want to even think on what Jacob or any other member of my ruddy family is capable of."
"Grell, you already said it is unlikely you would stay hidden from the family for too long. If they meant you or anyone you hold dear ill, why haven't you woken up to assassins over your bed or why hasn't Colin's beer been poisoned yet? They probably know about me already, and I'm sure Jacob knows damn well what I am by now. And what of a few college brats, would any of those Oxford boys dirty their hands so? Don't forget, Grell, I've been in the mix with some shady cads and I certainly know how to watch myself. At least give me some benefit of the doubt."
I grimaced and sighed hard. This all sounded too good to be true, or perhaps a disaster waiting to happen. Then again had I already forgotten Colin's warnings? What would happen should I find myself without this home? Probably move back into a guest house. Really, just what did I have to lose? I had two trunks worth of possessions and I already had been moving frequently. Perhaps I deserved some stability and Hamish was the best roommate I could think of. The incentive of no one having to leave in the morning was oh so tempting.
I simply replied that I would think on it, he seemed agreeable to this at the very least. I did indeed think on it. I thought of all the possible pitfalls, though the benefits were starting to speak a bit louder. I would be living in one place with my lover. I did ask Hamish a few questions about keeping discretion. Would I be truly accepted as a roommate?
One night Hamish showed me a modest bed standing on its side in a far corner of his studio. He said he acquired it from a friend, it would be perfect for a possible roommate. Two beds could be enough to maintain appearances. He said I could set up my own effects under a wide ease. As far as anyone would be concerned we were simple business partners living in the same modest quarters.
He did indeed make this proposal all the more tempting. My mind poked at me for caution, though the very thought of this was making my heart flutter. Perhaps it was time to settle in a bit, and what better roommate could I have?
We left the theater for another Friday and went to Hamish's apartment as usual, discussing a few potential jobs for a while. Talk turned to a party some middle level barrister was having
"I know this job sounds rather tempting," I said. "Should help with household expenses a bit more, maybe build up more of a pot."
Hamish's head shot up and he stared at me, mouth agape and eyes wide. I gave him a knowing smile.
"Are you saying…" he gasped, leaning toward me.
His surprise was rather amusing.
"Yes darling, I'm expecting," I said dramatically.
He lightly slapped my shoulder, I grabbed his hand and giggled.
"I carefully considered your offer and I accept," I said, kissing his hand.
He locked me into a strong embrace. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him.
"Shall we set a date?" he asked, fluttering his lashes.
"Pfft, cheeky," I said, tousling his hair. "What a good question. I'm paid through The end of the week. I suppose anytime next week…"
Next week…the first week of November. My head perked up and I looked at Hamish.
"Why not Monday? We have the day clear, I'll pick up my effects and move them here," I said.
Hamish smiled wide with a happy chuckle.
"Next Monday it is," he said.
"Though I will expect ample pampering next Friday."
"Oh? Why next Friday?"
"Because your lady love will be turning nineteen."
He got this happily surprised expression and kissed me.
"Ample pampering will indeed be necessary," he replied, kissing me again and playing with the ends of my hair.
I left the next morning, I wanted to pick up a few effects before going to the theater. It was now when I realized how glad I would be to not have to do this routine anymore. At first I was apprehensive, when I entered my sad little room I knew I made the right decision.
I thought giving myself a few last days to live in lone peace would be a good preparation for this endeavor. I found myself counting down the very hours until I would have to be out of the guesthouse on Monday. I avoided going home with Hamish for a few days, he knew the reason why.
"The groom mustn't see the bride before the wedding?" he quipped. "I am a gentleman, I understand."
It was an accurate comparison, though I did give an eye roll at the suggestion.
Sunday night I gathered my effects. I only kept a couple suits in the rickety wardrobe, usually when I stayed in these places I just kept items in my two simple trunks. Why bother taking it all out when I would just be moving it anyway. Alas a couple bottles of elixir went along with me. I did note I only had one small bottle of cognac that had barely been touched in weeks.
I decided to take a second look through these trunks. One was my original trunk from when I left Oxford, I realized I barely touched the surface of it since then. I decided to go through it; see if there were any items I didn't need any more. Maybe I could pass out something to the poor or simply feed something ripped and stained into the fire.
It just so happened I found such a thing. It was a nice cravat stiff with dried blood. Right above it was a shirt; the back was also stained with the same substance from how it was stored. The cuffs of the sleeves were also stiff; they were just inches away from my hand as I did a certain deed. I took out both these garments, looking down at them in some odd sense of sentimentality.
How things had changed in just five months, and how things remained unmentioned and unbothered. I figure they must have found the chap, unless he was still rotting in that alleyway like another piece of meat. I did hope he got a nice funeral at least.
The cravat went into the fireplace, the silk caught ablaze immediately and the whole thing was but ashes in a few minutes. I cut up the shirt into little pieces. As soon as the smoke cleared from the former cravat, I fed the little pieces into the fire. I saved the cuffs for last, giving them one last look before tossing them in as well.
I took a more careful look at the remaining items in that trunk, making sure nothing else was stained in such a manner. Thankfully nothing was; just those two. I ended up keeping everything else. The more variety the better; I might not be dressing for nobility now though I still wanted to look smart.
When the fire died out, I was a good little boy and cleared out the ash; placing it into the bucket off to the side. The lingering evidence of my crime was not but fluffy ashes. Perhaps this was a form of purification. I was about to embark on a new chapter in my life. Would there be no more blood stained clothes from here on out? Even I couldn't make that assertion. It was a thought that put a small smile on my face.
I barely slept that night. Hamish would be arriving the next morning, he actually reserved a carriage. All I could think of was how I would be in the same space with him every night; sleeping in his arms, waking to a new day by his side. Why did I choose to wait before doing this?
Monday dawned at last. I took my trunks out of the room and was immediately greeted by Hamish in the lobby. I threw my key to the clerk, the driver Hamish hired took my trunks and loaded them on the carriage. Hamish and I then boarded like any two chaps. Apparently he told the driver the story that I had fallen on some hard times and he was offering me permanent residence. It was an insipid story, though perhaps one that would keep our perfect cover.
At last we arrived at Hamish's lovely apartment, the driver loaded my trunks to the steps, Hamish paid him and he went off, then the both of us took my trunks upstairs. Hamish opened the door, then pointed to the side of the space. There under an eaves was a bed set up and a small wardrobe off to the side, another favor from a friend. I dropped my trunk by the bed and looked at it. I doubt this would see much use, but one never knows.
"Good, some place I can toss you when you misbehave," I said as soon as the door was closed.
Hamish dropped my trunk and wrapped his arms around me, then kissed me.
"Welcome home, darling," he said.
"It's good to be home," I replied, kissing him again.
I found myself putting more items into the wardrobe. There was a large set of drawers and Hamish cleared out a few for my use. He did a little tuning as I unpacked my possessions, occasionally complimenting me for some of my nicer garments. It did not take long for me to be completely settled in. Hamish made a lovely diner that night to celebrate. Later on we celebrated even more nicely in his bed.
We fell asleep in each other's arms. There would be no rushing off, there would be no worrying what I may have left at my guesthouse, everything was simply peaceful. I lightly woke during the night, savoring Hamish's warm embrace and looking over at the wardrobe with the knowledge my clothing was inside. I drifted back off to sleep, one thought floating through my mind; at last I had a place to call home.
Hamish and I spent Tuesday settling in a bit, later that night we played at that banker's party, then we returned home. I had spent whole days in his company, though it felt pleasantly odd that this was now my home. Wednesday I left ahead of Hamish for the theater, I gave him a little kiss as I walked from the door. Maybe this was how husbands and wives left each other; it was a nice feeling.
Colin said later that evening that he would soon be announcing the winter tragedy. He has it picked already, he would just wait until Sunday to let us know. Hamish and tossed around a few possibilities as we returned home, conversation that carried over a little late night refreshment on the couch.
"What if it's 'Macbeth?' Hamish asked me between sips of ale. "I hear Colin hasn't done that one in a while. How would you feel about that?"
I smirked a bit, cracking open a walnut. Yes, there was that possibility. I merely shrugged.
"I'll go for Macbeth and play him like a ruddy lunatic, maybe have some raw meat hanging from my mouth during the end scene," I said.
Hamish nearly spit out his lager, but got hold of himself long enough to swallow it. He guffawed loudly, I chortled right along with him.
I really didn't care to expound on what if any reactions I may have to taking on the Scottish Play. I wasn't going to think on it at all until Colin made that announcement.
In the meantime I had a few more important matters to deal with; such as the turn of my nineteenth year on this earth.
I awoke Friday to a bouquet of roses on the table and a lovely breakfast already being prepared. Hamish saw me stir from my sleep and walked over, sitting on the bed and kissing me.
"Happy birthday," he said, stroking my hair.
I smiled and kissed him back; I wanted this to be the best birthday I had ever had.
We sat and had a beautiful breakfast; Hamish cooked eggs and toast so delightfully.
"I have another present for you," Hamish said between bites of toast. "It will be arriving in a few hours."
"Oh my, a delivered gift," I chuckled. "Am I worthy of such grandeur?"
"You are worthy of everything, dearest," Hamish said, taking my hand and kissing my fingers.
Naturally it was to be a big surprise. I figured it was either something so large it had to be delivered, or perhaps something that was being made for me. I did fish for hints for the next hour, though he was nicely tight lipped. He wouldn't even bend when I promised to strip naked for him.
"No I am already too accustomed to your beauty to take such a cheap bribe," he snickered.
Naturally he deserved the ticklings I gave him. I did notice for the next half hour he was checking the clock. At 10 o'clock he started to get a little anxious, then came a knock at the door.
"Here it is," he said excitedly. "All I'll say is this will require a little explanation, so do not be disappointed on first sight."
It was a good warning. He opened the door for a small, nicely dressed man in a puffy wig with a bag in his hand. I was certainly glad for the warning, now I was even more in anticipation as to what this was. Hamish greeted the gentleman with a handshake. By our guest's high inflection and the loose way he held his hand, I had a feeling we were in the presence of fellow poof.
"Gregory, this is Mr. Fields," Hamish said. "He is an old friend of mine."
Mr. Fields practically pranced up to me .
"Oh is this the pretty one?" Mr. Fields giggled, and giving me a limp handshake. "The pleasure is all mine. Have you told him yet?"
"You are the special guest, I'll let you do the honors," Hamish said.
Hamish gave me these little glances with half a smirk. Mr. Fields pulled back, tapping his fingers together excitedly.
"You are so lucky to have this gentleman for a suitor," he said.
I smiled wide, hearing that was almost a present enough.
"I do not suppose you are familiar with my profession," Mr. Fields continued.
I immediately shook my head.
"Apologies, I cannot say I am," I said.
He smiled and put his bag on the table, then opened it. I looked inside and saw spools of thread, measuring tape, chalk, and the other tools of the trade for a tailor. My eyes widened slightly as he took out a small notepad and a piece of charcoal from his bag.
"Jedediah Fields, tailor extraordinaire at your service," he said with a nod. "Mr. Quinton hired me to make his lovely lady a most exquisite gown."
I threw myself at Hamish, wrapping my arms around him and giving him a hard kiss. Hamish chuckled and kissed me back, I heard Mr. Fields give a shrill giggle and clap his hands. I pulled back a bit from Hamish, my hands shook against his face. I now realized my entire body was trembling and my breath was coming in gasps. Was this real? Did I truly hear this man say what I thought he did? I looked at Hamish with my mouth gaping open. I wanted to ask him if I heard what I did, though my tongue was frozen.
"I did promise you," he said, kissing me on the cheek.
I looked in his eyes, feeling tears welling up in mine. I buried my head in his chest, a few gentle sobs escaping me. I calmed enough to kiss him.
"Thank you, Hamish," I said weakly. "Thank you oh so much."
He simply rubbed the small of my back and kissed me on the forehead. I calmed enough to look over, Mr. Fields was dabbing his dripping eyes with a handkerchief.
"You two are so very lovely," he said with a small crack in his voice. "You are so fortunate to have each other."
I could only smile in response and look at Hamish.
Mr. Fields started by taking all my measurements. Some part of me expected a few grabby hands in places, though he was more than professional. He measured my chest, then asked if I had a mind to do any sort of padding. I thought on it for a moment, recalling every flopping and out of place cloth bosom I had ever seen. I told Mr. Fields I really had little mind to pad, if I did it would be modest. He actually gave me a few pointers for how to add some bulk in places with clothes and make it look truly natural.
"You do have a bit of a slight build, yet an athletic physique," he said. "I could design something that looks a little more natural."
After he took my measurements we spoke about the style. I wanted something in red, that was nonnegotiable. He said the fabric would be a little pricier, Hamish insisted he didn't care. Hamish did contribute a few suggestions, some on what he could afford and others on the shape of my form. At the end of our discussion, Mr. Fields sketched out this truly elegant gown with a modest bodice yet ample ruffles and gathers.
"Does this compare at all to the gown you had before?" Hamish asked.
"It is so much lovelier," I replied. "And this time properly fitted."
Mr. Fields snickered at this. I did tell him the story of how I got my previous one, he was shaking his head a few times.
"Such is the peril of society," he said. "It is a story I have heard many times. That is why I will gladly offer my services to every lovely lady, whether lady in body or lady in spirit."
I grinned widely at this.
Mr. Fields left around 1 by the clock with ample salutations. He promised to have the dress ready in the next few weeks.
"If you could have it at lest ready by Christmas I would be most appreciative," Hamish said. "Give my love a special Christmas gift as well."
Mr. Fields aid he would likely have it earlier, though his services were quite in demand with different types of clientele. At last he was gone and I just had to shower Hamish with kisses once again. He was truly an amazing man.
I went to the theater later that afternoon. Everyone knew the significance of the day and there were quite a few well wishes. The show was exquisite that evening. After everything was over and after everyone was all changed and freshened up, we went to a nice pub and toasted to my nineteenth birthday.
Here I was among friends, here I was with the generous man I loved. There was no thought of proper gatherings or currying favor. Everything was as it should be in that one moment.
I believe it was the best birthday I had ever had.
