Thirty four
They were waiting her return - standing behind the kitchen curtains, off to the side, windows open and only the wire mesh screen to shield the comments of Beaumont to Kitty.
Dillon with fists balled stood like a granite statue, a scowl chiseled on his rugged features. Frankie was much more pliant, for she was enjoying the whole romantic idea of the beautiful secret agent and her handsome prey. They had seen Beau dock the boat and watched through the tiny slit between the curtains as the pair walked hand and hand to the sun porch.
"I bid you adieu my lovely Kitty-cat. Were it not for pressing business matters upon which others depend, I wouldn't take my leave from you now." He took her hand and turning it over, pressed his lips to her palm. "Thank you for a most delightful morning. I can't remember when I've spent time as enjoyably."
"I enjoyed it too Beau. Being out on the water gives one a whole new perspective to things."
"I find that as well. Au revoir - business calls."
He had good hearing, whatever else was absent from the old Matt Dillon's skills, auditory acuity was not one of them. The sound of lips meeting lips and a breathless sigh were as deafening to him as a trumpeter belting out reveille in his ear. A hard knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Frankie, at his side, gave him an elbow to the gut. She hissed, "don't take it personal, she's just doing her job."
Shortly after, Kitty came bursting through the door with a glow on her face.
Dillon's glower did nothing but deepen. However, Frankie remained professional and to the point, "Did he invite you to the ball?"
Kitty removed the battered sun bonnet and then the ribbon holding back her hair. "No, in fact the subject never came up."
Frankie was shocked. "He didn't? But, Kitty you were to use your considerable charms to coerce him into inviting you. What happened out there?"
Kitty shook her hair and ran her fingers through the tangled tresses, "We talked and drank champagne. He told me about his growing up, about his family. He didn't fight in the war you know, he was going to University in Oxford."
Frankie threw her arms in the air and began pacing back and forth across the kitchen, "Kitty, we know all about Beau. Frankly, we don't care to know more about Beau. This was my fault, I should have prepared you better, we should have had you in something more provocative … This was our big chance, our golden opportunity … well … we're just going to have to think of some way to get Beau to ask you out again, maybe … " She was thinking now, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Do you bake Kitty? Oh, that's right ... you do. Nevermind, I'm an experienced baker, I worked for a chef in Montgomery … we'll send over an apple pie and say it's a thank you … better yet … you can take it over to him ... no that won't work … let me think …"
"Frankie!" Kitty interrupted, "Frankie! I'm seeing him tonight, he's taking me out to eat and then to a show at the Opera House."
Frankie relaxed and smiled. "Well, why didn't you just say so."
Matt's response was a singular sound. "Humpf."
Frankie pushed Matt aside, "We haven't much time … we're not going to make the same mistake this time. We need you dressed in something that clearly gets Beaumont's attention. Did Beau say what's playing at the Opera House tonight? Burlesque, play or high brow?
"Very high brow - some opera called um … La Traviata,"
"Really?" Frankie shook her head and chuckled.
"What's so funny?" Matt asked gruffly.
"The story is about a beautiful courtesan … ummm … a highly paid 'fallen woman.' I've seen it performed, it's an extravaganza, elaborate costumes, you'll be competing for Beau's attention with the actresses on the stage." Frankie bit her lip, doing a mental inventory of Kitty's wardrobe. "We have so little at our disposal … one thing for sure, no binding the bosom tonight."
Frankie was talking a mile a minute, "Come on … let's see what kind of magic we can work. Have you seen the Opera performed before? No? Does Beau know you don't know about it, Good, I'll tell you the whole storyline …"
Their voices trailed off until the door to the bedroom was closed, leaving Matt Dillon on the outside. He turned his back to the intermittent sounds of giggles and soft spoken words. He was reminded of teenage girls getting ready for their first sociable. But this was so much more than that and aside from the jealousy that was eating away at him, there was the real fear for Kitty's safety. In frustration, he pounded the fist of his right hand to the palm of his left. With that action came the sudden realization that his strength was returning. He flexed his fingers and then mimicked a draw. 'No', he sighed soundlessly, not good enough but maybe … maybe with practice he could bring back enough that at least he could provide some defense. He poured himself another cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table and began figuring out a way to rehabilitate his injured nerves and weak muscles.
GS GS GS GS GS
The toll of the parlor clock and the knock at the front door came simultaneously at 6:00 PM that evening. Frankie, in Lilly face answered the door. Beaumont Davis was dressed in tuxedo and top hat, in one hand he carried a walking stick, with a fancy box tucked under his arm. He made a low bow and doffed his hat with his free hand, "Miss Lilly, how charming you look this evening and you smell divine, is your mistress ready?"
Frankie blushed, it didn't matter that she knew his fine manners and rakish good looks were well practiced for maximum effect. "She ain't ready yet, but if you wanna have a seat in the fancy sittin' room, she'll be out directly."
"Thank you my dear. Is Mr. Kent about, perhaps he and I can have a chat while I'm waiting."
"No sir, he's out fishing."
"Oh!" Beau said. Eyes narrowed, he scanned the confines of the visible environment - he could see into the small dining room and a portion of the kitchen beyond. There was nothing to rouse his suspicion. Then, almost as an afterthought he held forth the ribbon wrapped box, "These are for you Miss Lilly."
"Fer me? What fer?"
His dimples deepened. "A gentleman needs no excuse to give sweets to the sweet."
It was at that point, Kitty entered the room. She was wearing a black suit, form fitting and of exceptional fabric, which had lately belonged to Mrs. Johnston. She and Frankie had spent several hours taking in the seams so that the garment was most excellently tailored specifically for the wearer's curves. Four buttons down the front of the suit had been exchanged for rhinestone counterparts. However, the most significant alteration was in the absence of blouse worn underneath, thus the suit afforded an ample view of Miss Kitty's significant cleavage. She had foregone the adornment of necklace and had opted for her simple diamond studded earrings as her only jewelry. Her hair was arranged in a simple fashion, drawn back from her face to emphasize her beauty and bone structure. On her head was a small black velvet hat with ebony sequined netting that served to tease the spectator into desiring to see more. It was a dramatic look, almost theatrical in presentation.
The gleam in Beau's eyes when he saw her such, was enough to make Kitty's pulse quicken. She wished then she'd opted for a choker to conceal the telltale beat at the base of her throat. It wasn't her throat he was looking at, so she guessed she was safe.
"You are stunning, and I am a very lucky man. Come my dear, our carriage awaits and I have a surprise for you there."