Quincy waved as the car pulled away. She wasn’t too sure about everything that Lizzy had said but she did know that her life had certainly improved since Henry’s arrival. Grinning, she slid behind the wheel and headed to his house. He’d promised to have a pot of decaf coffee and dessert waiting after her meeting. As she pulled onto Paddlebrook Way, she decided to forget about the missing tawse, he had a pretty good collection that they were putting to good use. When he opened the door to greet her before she’d even turned off the ignition, she smiled. Yes, life was indeed wonderful.
On Sunday, the ventilation system was fully functioning and Henry had finished arranging things to his liking. Quincy saw that he’d already started on the bassinet and the old paint had been stripped away to expose the bare wood.
“It’s mahogany,” Henry said, “that’s one reason it is still in great condition. The workmanship is rather amazing. It takes a lot of patience and skill. The slats had to be planed by hand to a uniform thickness and then soaked in water to allow the wood to bend without splitting as they were woven together.”
“It’s beautiful,” Quincy agreed. “I’m not sure we should even repaint it.”
“We could stain and varnish it.” After agreeing that might be best, they left the garage and she offered to help him unpack the remaining boxes.
Settling in the office, she opened one and gasped. “Is this authentic?”
“Yes,” Henry confirmed, taking the uniform coat and sliding it onto a hanger. “Participating in reenactments is another hobby of mine.”
“Wow,” Quincy said, finding another in the box. “So you get dressed up and play soldier?” She asked as she finished unloading a box of uniforms, including hats, gloves, sashes and boots.
“Yes, though we don’t usually refer to it as playing dress up,” Henry said with a chuckle as he took a Confederate uniform coat and hung it on a hanger. “There are accurate reenactments of famous battles. Some are only for a day while others involve camping out for a week.”
“Fancy title or not, it’s dress up and I think it’s awfully sweet to think about grown men playing even at something so serious,” Quincy said, handing him another hanger, this one with a Union uniform. “Is it only the Civil War that’s represented?”
“Not at all. There are groups that cover basically any battle in American history that you can think of as well as other historical moments.” He opened another long box and pulled out an antique musket. “And, young lady, I’ll have you know that it is not only men involved. Women enjoy it as well.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. After we finish here, how about we cuddle on the couch and go on-line to research possibilities in Colorado?”
A half-hour later, he had placed the empty boxes in the garage and Quincy made popcorn. She brought the bowl to the couch and sat beside him. Sipping wine and munching on popcorn, she discovered that Henry’s hobby was shared by thousands of people all across the country.
“It must be pretty incredible,” she said after they’d scrolled through several photos of past reenactments, some showing row upon row of small tents, others showing men in full regalia seated atop horses. “If you hadn’t told me these were from last year, I’d think they were from the actual Civil War.”
Henry agreed. “Some are so involved and authentic that when you wake up in a pup tent at the call of the bugle, you almost forget your car is parked over in some lot beyond the trees.”
“Well, I’m not too sure I’m willing to go quite that far,” Quincy said as he exited that site. “I haven’t gone camping in decades and admit I like a nice comfortable bed and indoor plumbing.”
Henry laughed and entered a search into the box on Google. “Look, there is an event held down in Durango. It’s called the Durango Heritage Celebration.”
“I’ve heard of Durango but haven’t yet been there. How far is that from Denver?”
After entering another search, Henry discovered it was about 350 miles away. “Only take about six hours and looks like it would be a nice drive. It’s far closer than Texas or Pennsylvania.”
Clicking on various boxes that lined the top of the screen they discovered all sorts of activities were offered. “Listen to this,” Henry said, the excitement in his voice obvious as he read about the Heritage Train to Cascade. “It goes through the San Juan Mountains along the Animas River. It states that when the minerals ran out, the miners stopped looking for gold and silver and used the mines to set up stills. Seems they were rather popular especially during Prohibition.”
Quincy giggled. “I guess people having been doing naughty things for ages. I wonder if they still offer moonshine.”
“I’m not sure about that, but there is a murder mystery dinner.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting,” Quincy said. “What else?”
“Well, the event ends with a fancy ball.”
“Do we get to play dress up?”
Henry chuckled. “Yes, we get to play dress up.” He clicked on another box to discover a slideshow of the past events, people in authentic period clothing all smiling and looking as if they were having the time of their lives. “Look, honey, there are several choices available. If we choose to take the train trip, we’d have our choice of various costumes. Anything from the 1880s to the 1920s. There are different cars called the ‘dressed coaches’ for the different time periods.”
“That sounds like fun. So we could be Flappers?”
“That or we could choose the Victorian era or even the Old West.”
He told her a bit more and with each revelation, she became more excited before asking a bit worriedly, “Is camping involved?”
Henry grinned. “As much as I think you’d actually enjoy sleeping under the stars, I’m afraid not for this event. There are several hotels and even a few that specifically cater to people attending the celebration, costumes and all. We can even visit the Trimble Hot Springs Hotel. The website states it was built on the claim that the waters cured all sorts of maladies.” He clicked through a list of hotels and they both decided they really thought they’d like to stay at the Strater Hotel after seeing photos of people in the lobby as well as the dining rooms in full costume.
“We can consider it an early birthday celebration,” he suggested. “It’s the weekend of our birthdays. I can’t think of a better way to celebrate.”
“You might have a roomful of costumes, but I’m going to have to figure out how to get mine. I have to admit, those gowns for the ball looked incredible. I think I’d look better in a bustle instead of rows and rows of fringe. I can just imagine the looks I’d get as my arse jiggled and set that fringe to swaying.” She turned to him and grinned. “Yes, let’s do it. I’ve got enough time to figure something out.”
“Then I’ll make the reservations and purchase the tickets. Let’s splurge and spend the entire weekend. That way, you can get the full experience and choose a couple of different eras, including the 1920s if you want.”
She agreed and she watched as he registered them both for everything they thought they’d enjoy. “We can practice our dancing between now and then,” Henry suggested after discovering that though they did offer dance classes before the night of the ball, the time frame interfered with another event. “I can’t wait to take you dancing. I’ve already investigated some clubs in Denver.”
“Do I get to yell out ‘bullshit’?” Quincy asked, her smile wide as she batted her eyelashes. “Only because I would be playing the part of a real Texas cowgirl and that would be an authentic word for that particular historical dance, right, honey?”
“You are just too adorable,” Henry stated as he shut down the laptop and pulled her into his arms. “Speaking of playing, how about we go play in the bedroom?”
“Why Henry, I thought we were talking about dressing up, not undressing.”
“If you can pretend that the cotton-eyed Joe is historic just for an excuse to scream out naughty words, I can pretend that I’m practicing for ou
r birthdays,” Henry said, taking her hand and leading her down the hall. “Let’s see what naughty words I can draw out of my little reenactor. After all, I believe birthday suits would be most authentic.”
“I don’t know,” Quincy said with a grin. “Does that mean we are going to practice birthday spankings?”
“What a good idea,” Henry said as he began to undress her. “I have to love a woman who insists on practice.”
Practice they did. Henry sat against the headboard, Quincy lying across his lap as his hand rubbed across her bottom. “While I would love seeing your tushie swaying beneath a fringed flapper dress, I must admit, I adore it bare,” he said, lifting his hand and giving her right cheek a swat, followed quickly by one to her left before he rubbed the sting away.
Quincy moaned and wiggled her hips a bit. The spanking not only warmed her bottom, it warmed her heart. Swat after swat landed, his caresses dissipating the heat in her skin but not in what he lovingly referred to as her naughty lady bits. His fingers dipped to play, driving her to squirm and gasp until he removed them to resume the erotic spanking.
“Don’t you think it’s time we moved to the next level?” she asked, pushing her bottom up.
“Topping from the bottom again, Mrs. Robinson?” he said, giving her a harder swat.
“No,” she said with a gasp. “I can say that you have absolutely no need of further education, Dustin. I just don’t want your hand to become too sore to work out in that beautiful shop you have.”
“Oh my naughty girl, fibbing again,” Henry said, another swat landing on the lower curve of her cheeks, drawing a sharp yelp followed by a giggle. By the time he helped her move onto her back, she was squirming both in lust and with a bit of wicked delight at the soreness of her reddened rear as it took her weight. They made love, their passion shared until both were sated. As he spooned her against him, she giggled.
“What’s funny?” he asked, kissing her shoulder.
“I was just wondering if there is an ‘undressed coach’ on that train.”
Henry laughed and ran his hand down her side to pat against her buttock. “If there were, I’m betting the train could stay in the depot and folks wouldn’t even notice they never moved.”
“They’d move all right if they had you for a partner, my love,” Quincy said, turning in his arms to kiss him.
“Good thing I own several pairs of boots,” Henry teased. “I’m thinking someone is piling up the bullshit even before I take her dancing so that she can say a naughty word without getting her tail end swatted.”
Quincy snuggled into his side with a soft smile. She was quite serious. He moved heaven and earth every single time he held her in his arms.
Chapter 10
I can’t wait to see what Tory has come up with,” Quincy said two weeks later. She and Venia were on their way to Tory’s house to look over patterns for the upcoming trip.
“I’m so glad she agreed to help,” Venia said as they pulled into the driveway. “I know she is an absolute genius when it comes to wedding dresses but wasn’t sure she’d even consider costumes.”
“I had the same fear,” Quincy admitted as they walked to the door. “But, she assured me that she’d love the challenge.”
Tory opened the door before they had a chance to ring the doorbell. “Hi, come on in. I just put Hope down for her nap and didn’t want to chance the bell waking her. I can’t wait to show you my ideas.”
After serving them coffee, the three women sat around the breakfast table as Tory showed them sketch after sketch, all beautifully drawn, every detail made vivid with an expert’s eye to color and style.
“I had no idea you actually drew your own designs,” Quincy said as she picked up one showing a woman in a scarlet colored flapper dress complete with fringe and matching red shoes and a red feather in her hair. “These are absolutely amazing, but I fear I was right about that era. Too much fringe will be required and I might put someone’s eye out swirling about the floor.”
The three laughed as the drawing was set aside. “I forgot how much fun coloring can be. I’ve been having a ball,” Tory said, handing another sketch to Venia. “What do you think about that one?”
“Oh, this is beautiful. Look, Quincy, a real hoop skirt.”
“That’s more like it,” Quincy agreed. “This dress would conceal a great deal of flaws.” They looked at several more including a Victorian gown complete with bustle that Quincy also stated she adored.
“I want Henry to be comfortable as well, so we agreed we’d go to at least one event in western wear.”
“You have two choices for that era,” Tory said as she handed over another sketch.
“This reminds me, I actually have a bonnet already,” Quincy said as she looked at the sketch of a woman in a calico dress with a white apron around her waist. On her head was a bonnet very similar to the sunbonnet one she’d purchased at the flea market.”
“I’m sure I can either find something to match it or make another one,” Tory said, offering another drawing.
“Tory, she looks like a saloon gal,” Quincy said. The woman’s shoulders were bare and though she was wearing a top, it consisted of nothing more than a corset. Her skirt hem barely hung beneath her knees. Button up ankle boots and very visible bloomers completed the woman’s ensemble. Quincy looked up and smiled. “I gotta admit the bloomers are really cute.”
“I’m making authentic undergarments for any dress you decide on,” Tory stated with a grin. “I found several patterns online and can’t wait to see you in a pair of bloomers and a corset.”
Venia laughed and Quincy felt her face heat. “I hadn’t really thought about that. I remember the website stated that this year’s theme is an English Tea Garden and that long skirts and white gloves are required for the formal ball. It didn’t state anything about underwear. Do you think it’s really necessary?”
“Yes!” Venia and Tory yelled before a rustling from the baby monitor reminded them a baby was napping.
Lowering her voice, Tory spread several sheets across the table, each depicting various styles of undergarments. “We can go from plain to quite frilly or somewhere in between. I actually have quite a bit of experience making corsets as a great many brides want to wear them under their wedding gowns. Tends to make that special moment a bit more special if you know what I mean.”
Venia reached across the table and tapped a drawing of a woman standing in a pair of ivory bloomers with lace at the cuffs and a ribbon at the waist. She also wore a corset that pushed her bosom up. “Just imagine Henry’s face when he sees you in something like this. I’d say if you are going to play, go all the way.”
“Venia!” Quincy gasped.
“I meant go all the way in wearing authentic clothing.”
“Oh, I thought you meant… um, never mind. As they say, in for a penny, in for a pound. Are you sure you want to go to all this trouble? I don’t want to have you stressed over deadlines. You’ve got a baby and a husband to worry about.”
“Absolutely. I’ve got plenty of time. We’ll take your measurements today and I’ll get started. There will be fittings throughout the process.” She grinned as she stood and refilled their coffee. “I’ll warn you now, I’ll start with the foundation garments. We get those just perfect and I guarantee whatever you decide to wear over them will look gorgeous.”
“I’m not sure about that, but okay, let’s do it.” Hearing Hope stir and give a soft cry, Tory instructed her to pick out the dresses she wanted to have made.
“I’ll run and change Hope,” she stated as she turned to leave the kitchen. “And don’t forget when you are choosing that lingerie that you want to seriously impress that handsome cowboy of yours.”
Venia assured her that she’d keep Quincy on task. They could hear Tory speaking softly to her baby and Hope’s cooing as Venia spread each drawing out in a line across the table.
“I still think this is an awful lot of work for a new mommy,” Quincy said.<
br />
“Honey, I wouldn’t worry about it. I don’t believe Tory is a woman who wouldn’t state her true feelings. Don’t you remember the tussle she and Ever got into before they became such good friends?”
“Yes, but…”
“No buts. Besides, raising a baby is expensive. I’m sure she can use all the extra money she can earn.”
“In that case, just to be sure I’m doing my fair share of being a member of that village, what do you think of these?”
Venia agreed with the gowns but insisted that she’d need more than one change of undergarments. “Seriously, Quincy, you can’t tell me you wear the same pair of panties every day!”
“Of course not, but I just thought I’d only need the bloomers for the dance.”
“Nope, Venia’s right,” Tory said as she rejoined them. “From what you told me about Henry’s experiences in these sort of things, I think he’ll be very impressed to see how much effort you took with your attire.” She handed Hope to Venia who had instantly opened her arms for the little girl. “If my name is going to be associated with this, I’m going to insist you do go all the way.”
“I give up,” Quincy said as she stood. “Consider me your walking advertisement, but only if you allow me to hand out your business cards. Oh, um, maybe you’d better give that some thought. After all, unless you plan on opening a shop in Denver again, you might not want prospective clients knowing where you live.”
“Nonsense,” Tory said immediately. “John and I have no concern about our choice. We moved here to get away from judgmental people. If any clients have an issue with the fact that I live and work in a great community of individuals who believe in domestic discipline, that’s their hang-up and they can take their business elsewhere.”
Quincy nodded and grinned. “In that case, I have a feeling you can make quite a tidy sum in costumes if those sketches are anywhere close to what the final product will look like.”
“That’s a deal. Venia, let me know if Hope is too much. I’d like to get Quincy’s measurements while I can.”
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