CHAPTER EIGHT
Samantha Parkington was a woman on a mission, and when on a mission she was unstoppable. Nellie watched half shell-shocked and half amused as Samantha began tearing through her armoire, pulling out gowns, skirts, blouses, and shoes.
"Samantha," she said nervously. "Why are you going through my clothes?" Nellie began to bend down, picking up the clothes as they hit the floor. Between the mess of feathers they had made earlier in Samantha's room, and the mess that they were now making in her own room, she couldn't blame Elsa for being annoyed. She had definitely been there.
"This will do," Samantha muttered as she took out one of Nellie's fine evening dresses, one that Nellie hadn't worn yet.
"Oh no," Nellie said. "You are not borrowing that, plus you're too tall for it."
"Not me, you," Samantha said half annoyed. She threw the dress at Nellie ignoring the fact that Nellie was already clutching a huge bundle of clothes. "Put this on."
"Samantha that is an evening dress," Nellie argued. "I'm not going to put that on now. I was saving it for our next party."
"They are no more parties," Samantha said bitterly. "At least not for me."
The dress was quite elegant. It was made from light blue silk, with a layer of ice blue chiffon that draped over it, giving it an iridescent feel. It had a high waist, square neckline and short cap sleeves, and was trimmed with silver embroidery.
"Well I am not going to go prancing about in an evening dress in broad daylight," Nellie said. "It's too low cut for daytime anyway."
"No it's not," Samantha replied. She threw Nellie's silver slippers out of the armoire as well. "Get dressed. I'm going to go find my silver jewelry for you to wear."
"Sam," Nellie exclaimed. "Why on earth are you dressing me up as if I'm going to a ball during the afternoon? I'm not going anywhere."
"You are going outside, into the lilac bush tunnel," Samantha answered.
"Have you lost your mind?" Nellie gasped. "I am not going crawling around in my new evening dress in the dirt in some lilac bush. Plus it's too hot outside. I want to stay in here."
"No Nellie," Samantha said dramatically. "We are at war now. I'm the general, you're my colonel. We are going to fix Eddie Ryland."
"Sam, let it go," said Nellie. "This isn't one of your political rampages."
"Well it is to me," Samantha said. "Eddie Ryland has just ruined my life and reputation in all of high society."
"I doubt that," Nellie retorted.
"I have the perfect plan," said Samantha darkly. "We are going to have Eddie fall in love with you."
"Yuck," Nellie laughed. "Sam, boys don't fall in love for quiet, bookish, studious, sorts like me. I'd rather have a table piled high with food than fifty men."
"Right," Samantha nodded and began to powder Nellie's face. "So you will do as I tell you, and say what I tell you to say. Within days we will have Eddie Ryland just eating out of your hand."
"But I don't like Eddie," Nellie groaned. "I don't want him slobbering all over me."
"Don't worry," Samantha said as she applied some rouge onto Nellie. "It will only be temporary I promise. Grandmary said you are still allowed to go to parties because you are not a disrespectful tramp like me. We get Eddie in love with you, he escorts you to one of the big summer hotel parties, and then bam! You reject him in front of everybody. Then he too can be shunned by society."
"Sam I hate to break this to you but no matter how charming and convincing I can be he is still not going to take a fancy to his family's old servant girl. I used to work for his family," said Nellie. For day, Samantha had put a ridiculous amount of makeup on her.
"You're not going to be Nellie O'Malley," said Samantha. She stood up and looked thoughtful. "You will be Helene. Helene my friend from France."
Nellie broke out into laughter.
"Sam, I couldn't speak in a convincing French accent if my life depended on it."
"Well then you can be my friend from New Orleans," Samantha said. "Yes, New Orleans, that is perfect. Your mother will be French, and your Father can be Irish. I got it! Helene Fitzgerald. Doesn't that sound fine?"
"Not really," replied Nellie. "Sam I'm sorry to break this to you but this is a really dumb idea. He is not going to fall in love with me."
"He's falling in love with Helene Fitzgerald," Samantha answered. She handed Nellie the dress. "I will tell you everything to do, and everything to say. You don't have to worry about a thing, just go along with it."
"That's what you said about unlocking the door for you last night," said Nellie. "Elsa caught me."
"You can borrow my diamond choker," said Samantha.
"You already owe me that," Nellie laughed. "Sam you are racking up a colossal debt with me."
"Please Nellie, it will be fine. Now put the dress on," Samantha pleaded her big brown puppy eyes filled with longing. It was no wonder that Samantha could get anything she wanted out of men. Nellie shook her head and sighed as she began to shimmy out of her day suit.
"I still don't see why I have to put on this evening gown," she argued. "It's going to look silly. Women don't go around in evening clothes, especially when they are sitting on the ground in a lilac bush."
"Helene Fitzgerald of New Orleans does," Samantha said. She brushed Nellie's hair and swept it up in an amazing do, that was a work of art itself. Nellie felt ridiculous, but Samantha was bound and determined. She coached Nellie about how she would walk, talk, and conduct herself, and gave her a series of replies to any questions she might be asked from her dress, to about Samantha herself.
"Take your book," Samantha instructed. "No. Take your composition book. I think a woman who writes seems more dreamy and wistful than a woman who reads. He might think you are too bookish if he meets you reading. Now just go sit in the tunnel in the lilac bush, the one where we used to meet and eat gingerbread. Pretend that you are writing, but be secretive with what it is. There is something alluring about a woman of mystery. He should be in shortly to take have his smoke."
"What if he doesn't show?" Nellie asked. She was more decked out than she had been at that party they went to at the beginning of the summer. Samantha had her dolled up as if she were going to the opera.
"Oh he will," Samantha replied. "I've heard that Mrs. Ryland has gone mad, and everyone even a snark such as Eddie Ryland, has to go seek out refuge sometime and have a nice afternoon smoke."
Nellie shook her head. Samantha had some pretty wild ideas. Samantha prodded Nellie down the stairs, and out the front door.
"This is where I will leave you," Samantha said as they stood out on the porch. "Take as long as you need. If you are not in by five I will come fetch you."
"That's three hours from now!" Nellie exclaimed. "I'm not going to sit in that bush waiting forever."
But Samantha had already gone inside and slammed the front door. Clutching her composition book close to her chest as if it were a security blanket, Nellie made her way down the stairs, across the lawn, and to the lilac hedge like she had so many times as a little girl. Only this time she wasn't going to eat gingerbread.