Walter Stone strolled up the aisle, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his vest. “What seems to be the problem?”
Quincy reached out to cling to his arm. “I swear to you that this is obviously a case of mistaken identity, sir. My dear Paul is not an evil moonshiner. Why, he won’t even keep a single drop of whiskey in the house. The last time he caught me taking just the tiniest swallow, purely for medicinal purposes of course, he…” She paused, placing her free hand at her mouth as if attempting to keep others from hearing and yet her voice was loud and clear. “Let’s just say I couldn’t sit down for a month of Sundays!”
Laughter broke out in the car at her exaggerated wince when she dropped her hand to rub against her backside.
Walter nodded his head and patted her hand. “I can see that your husband is a law-abiding man and that you are a proper God-fearing wife. I suppose some nefarious outlaw could have slipped that bottle into your basket to avoid capture.”
“I knew you were an intelligent, kind man,” Quincy said, her lashes fluttering as she kissed him on his cheek.
“Release him, boys, perhaps you’ll find the true culprits in the next car.”
Applause filled the car as Henry pulled her from the judge’s clutches and soundly kissed her on her mouth.
“What’s in the bottle?” Quincy asked as they returned to their seats.
Henry sniffed the bottle first and then shrugged and took a sip before laughing. “It really is Mountain Dew.”
“Really? Is it any better than that rotgut I tried last night?” After taking her own sip, she pushed her elbow into his ribs. “Smart ass.”
“Watch it, little lady,” Henry said. “Poking me with your elbow isn’t allowed and neither is cussing. I did tell you the truth.”
Quincy laughed and had to agree. The bottle really did contain the soft drink bearing the same name as bootleg whiskey.
They really enjoyed the stop when they walked a short distance away from the tracks to enter an old mine shaft. A replication of an actual still had been set up. Liquid dripped from coiled tubing into a funnel set in the neck of antique crockery. Henry bought several smaller jugs as souvenirs and laughed when Judge Stone appeared at his side.
“I hope you’re not thinking about calling for the revenuers again,” Henry said.
“Not at all. I’ll let you in on a little secret about our town. If it weren’t for these brave men who risk arrest, why, our town would be broke and we’d not have near as much fun.”
Quincy laughed, “So is it Mountain Dew in these jugs?”
“No, these little beauties actually contain Stranahan’s Colorado Whiskey brewed up in Denver. If you get a chance, I highly recommend you take the tour. It’s quite a fascinating story of how the family began the business.”
“I never knew history could really be such fun. Actually experiencing it so much better than just reading about it in books,” Quincy said as they walked back to the train.
“That’s what I’ve always believed and why I love participating in the reenactments,” Henry agreed.
That evening they created quite a stir as they entered the Henry Strater Theatre. Quincy wore a long burgundy colored tweed skirt that swept the floor with a matching, fitted jacket. Henry was dressed as Sherlock Holmes. He wore a long tweed coat over tweed trousers. He completed his outfit with a calabash pipe and deerstalker hat though he’d informed Quincy neither was truly authentic to the character. It was the pipe and hat most commonly associated with portraits or drawings of Holmes, but had never been mentioned in any of Conan’s books. “Holmes smoked either a briar pipe or a clay pipe, and the deerstalker wasn’t mentioned either, but I couldn’t resist.”
After enjoying a multi-course meal, they listened as a storyteller began to weave details of an intricate scene, leaving out vital pieces of information and inserting several that would turn out to be blind alleys. The actors were superb and managed to muddy the issue even further with a convoluted production as to exactly how the crime had taken place. With the fall of the curtain to thunderous applause, the narrator turned the solving of the crime over to the audience. Every table formed a separate team as they all worked together to solve the mystery presented.
“Anybody have an idea of the killer’s identity?” Henry asked, looking around the table.
Quincy shrugged. “For all I know it was Miss Scarlet in the library with a candlestick.” Her suggestion had their entire table erupting into laughter. Though their table didn’t win, every person stated they had a marvelous time.
“I never even suspected the parson,” Quincy said, shaking her head. “He’s a man of the cloth!”
“No, he was only pretending to be a parson,” Henry explained. “He was something like a fifth cousin who only needed to knock off a few distant relatives in order to inherit the family fortune.”
“Well, kudos to the winners. I was so confused even though I took notes.”
“I’m going to miss you,” Heidi said that evening as Quincy laid out the items she’d be wearing. “I hope you come back next year.”
“I plan to as I can’t remember a weekend when I’ve had so much fun. Whoever plans these things deserves a raise.”
“The entire town gets involved but there is a committee. I’m sure they’d love hearing your opinion about what you’ve experienced.”
It took almost an entire half-hour before Quincy stood in front of the mirror for the last time. “I didn’t pay Tory near enough,” Quincy said as she ran her hands down her gown. It was velvet and the color of sapphires. Intricate embroidery in black thread decorated the bodice as well as the hem of the full, bell-shaped shirt. Tiny fabric covered buttons ran up the back of the dress. The sleeves were slightly puffed and the neckline was square with just the barest hint of her bosom visible.
“I’ve decided that all women my age should wear a corset no matter how old-fashioned or uncomfortable they might be,” she stated, running her hands down her waist. “Goodness knows, I haven’t seen my boobs in the right position for at least a decade.”
Heidi giggled and nodded. “To tell you the truth, I wear one a great deal of the time. There is just something about knowing one is under your clothing that makes you feel so feminine.”
“That and the fact that I’ve got on silk drawers, stockings and about sixty yards of petticoats,” Quincy quipped.
Her hair had been done in a French twist, black combs with fake sapphires tucked into place. Heidi had once again done her make-up, her touch soft and yet magically transforming Quincy into an even more beautiful woman. When Quincy had complimented the young woman on her abilities, Heidi had replied that Quincy’s eyes were the true cause of her beauty. “That and your smile. You always are so kind and seem so incredibly happy, you just seem to glow. What’s your secret?”
“Honey, I believe the secret of true happiness is to find someone to share your life with. I believe the vintage values are still the best to strive for today. Love and respect, trust and open communication and letting your husband be the head of your household. That may sound old-fashioned to you, but I promise, if you are lucky enough to do so, all of your troubles will be halved and your joys doubled. Life is too precious and too short to settle for anything less.”
“Not old-fashioned at all and after seeing the way you two look at each other, the way your eyes light up when the other comes into the room and the way you are constantly touching each other’s hand, I can promise that I will definitely never settle for anything less.”
Taking the gloves that were required for the evening, Quincy pulled them on. They were white and came up above her elbows.
“Oh, my, we almost forgot,” Heidi said, reaching for the earrings and the necklace Quincy had laid on the counter. After clipping the dangling earrings to her lobes, Quincy stooped so that the necklace could be fastened around her neck. A large, solitary sapphire pendant dropped to rest just above the neckline of her dress.
“You’ll be the belle of
the ball,” Heidi assured her as she helped Quincy into the slippers that had been dyed to perfectly match her dress.
Turning, Quincy pulled Heidi into her arms. “Thank you, my dear.”
“It was my pleasure.” Handing her the beaded purse and a black fan, Heidi took a final look. “Okay, I think you are ready. Now, wait here. I’m going to make sure your gentleman is ready to be knocked off his feet.”
Henry was indeed ready. It hadn’t taken him quite as long to dress but he was pleased to see the look in Heidi’s eyes when she entered the room, closing the door behind her.
Henry gave her a bow. “Do you think I’ll do my lady justice?”
Heidi nodded. He was wearing a full tuxedo with long tails. A crisp white shirt with starched collar was beneath an embroidered damask vest. A gold chain led to a small pocket where a gold pocket watch rested. His black boots shone like a mirror. His salt and pepper hair was combed straight back. Heidi stepped forward and with a grin, undid his tie and expertly retied it so that it was centered perfectly under the collar of his shirt.
“You look exactly as I imagined a lord of the manor. In other words, wow, you look fabulous,” Heidi said. “Are you ready to meet your lady?”
“Just a moment,” Henry said, reaching into his coat and pulling an envelope out of the inner pocket and handing it to her.
Puzzled, Heidi opened it, her eyes widening. “Oh no, this isn’t necessary, Mr. Hopkins. Quincy already gave me a very generous tip. I can’t accept this.”
“You can and you will,” Henry said, closing her hand around the envelope. “Heidi, Quincy was a bit nervous about all of this though she wouldn’t admit it. You’ve made her relax and enjoy every transformation. Every single time she walked out of that room, she not only looked beautiful, she felt beautiful.”
“That’s because she is beautiful on the inside as well,” Heidi said.
“That she is and so are you, young lady. Now, I’m ready.”
Heidi wiped her eyes, tucked the envelope into her apron pocket and walked to the door. With her hand on the knob, she looked over her shoulder. “May I present Lady Quincy Alexandria Lauder?” Opening the door, she stepped aside as Quincy stepped out.
The room was silent for a moment before the couple chorused together, “Oh my, you look incredible.” Heidi smiled as she slipped from the room, leaving them for the last time.
Henry walked around Quincy. God, he’d expected her to look great, but she was far beyond great. He could easily imagine her at the head of some grand staircase, poised with her gloved hand on the rail, glancing down to find some lucky man awaiting her. He prayed he’d be that lucky man. Cupping her face between his palms, he bent to kiss her.
“I have never seen a more beautiful woman in my life.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ve never felt more beautiful or so blessed. You make me feel so loved, Henry.”
“Only because you bless me with the honor of sharing your life.” He kissed her again and then grinned. “It’s almost a shame, but I’d not be a man of my word if I didn’t take care of those last ten.”
“Seriously? Do you have any idea how hard getting to my backside is going to be?”
“Hmm, I do so love a challenge,” Henry countered. He led her to the dresser and instructed her to put her hands on the top. She did so and then giggled as he discovered exactly what enabled her skirt to bell so widely. Yards of velvet as well as an almost solid mass of crinoline that made up her petticoat hung over a hoop skirt.
“What’s the matter, Lord Hopkins, have you finally met a challenge that you can’t defeat?”
Henry pulled her away from the dresser to stand in the center of the room. “Stay right there,” he directed as he disappeared into his own dressing room. A moment later, he returned with a wide stool he’d sat on to put on his shoes. Placing it in front of the dresser, he turned to her and grinned, offering her his hand. “You shall learn that when I say I love a challenge, I mean I really love a challenge. You’ll also learn that saucy little ladies get extra.”
Her mouth dropped open as he helped her stand on the stool, instructing her to again put her hands flat on top of the dresser. She watched as he knelt and then gasped as he worked his way under her dress and hoop skirt. She broke into laughter when she heard him mutter and then stick his hand out from beneath the mound fabric. “Hand me that fancy fan, please.”
“A fan?”
“Oh yes, you could definitely state that I’m quite the fan. And, I think it is the perfect implement for your impudent little fanny.” After she’d done so, she heard his next words.
“God, I love these knickers,” Henry said.
“I’ll have you know, young man, that you are historically inaccurate. Knickers, also known as panties, didn’t become a reality until the early 1900s. Since we are supposedly dressed in styles of the Victorian era, and not the Edwardian, you may refer to my undergarments as drawers.”
“How about I refer to them as being down around your ankles?” he quipped. Quincy felt the ribbon at her waist being tugged as he slowly lowered her drawers to the floor.
It was the most erotic spanking he could remember ever giving. Though he didn’t have much room beneath her clothing, he managed just fine. Ten solidly placed swats of the fan were delivered, the sound muted and yet he enjoyed every soft crack and the fact that the hoop skirt began to sway a bit as her bottom began to wag. Though he loved her soft yelps with every swat, what he would always treasure was her gasp and moan when he gave each of her rosy cheeks a firm squeeze before bending forward to give each a kiss.
Helping her off the stool, he grinned at her blush. “The only thing I need to know is how in the hell did that thing fit in a garment bag?”
Quincy laughed and explained that though it was huge now, it actually had snaps and ties that had to be fastened to form the shape. “I must say, you sir, certainly met the challenge.”
“I’m going to believe that means your naughty bits are tingly?”
“That and my impudent fanny that I can’t even reach to give a rub.”
Henry laughed and picked up the top hat and his gloves off the dresser. After placing the hat on his head and pulling on his gloves, he picked up the last item.
“Um, you aren’t planning on giving me the last six with that cane are you?” Quincy asked.
“This is not a cane, my dear, it is an authentic walking stick. Shall we go?” Quincy took his arm, giving the walking stick another glance. “Don’t fret, I have no intention of using it for anything other than an accessory.”
“Good to know,” Quincy said, opening her fan and waving it in front of her face. “For a moment there, I thought I was having an attack of the vapors.”
They entered the ballroom and felt like they’d stepped back in time. Dozens of people were already in attendance, gowns of every color were worn by women who were obviously enjoying dressing up for a real ball. The men were mostly in tuxes or what passed for proper evening attire. Quincy smiled as Judge Stone approached her.
“You look stunning,” he said, lifting her hand and placing a kiss on the back of her glove. “I do hope you remembered you promised me a dance.”
“Of course, I’ve been looking forward to it,” Quincy said. “You don’t mind, do you, Henry?”
“Not at all, my dear. Enjoy yourself.”
He watched as Walter led her away as the orchestra began to play. Though they’d been told they were expected to dance with as many partners as possible in order to mingle and meet other attendees, he didn’t make a move to find a partner. The only partner he wanted, for the rest of his life, was presently being led to the far side of the room. Instead, he looked around the room and then pulled the pocket watch from his vest. Looking towards the door, he smiled, watching several additional guests enter in full costume and begin to merge with the crowd.
After their waltz, Walter led Quincy back to where Henry had moved to stand, practically in the very center of the room. Aft
er bowing and thanking her for the dance, Walter took several steps back as did those around the couple. Realizing that no one was dancing, Quincy gave Henry a quizzical look.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hopefully not a thing,” Henry said a moment before he slowly dropped to one knee. His blue eyes met hers and held them as he pulled a box from his pocket and opened the lid to display the ring inside.
“I love you with my entire heart and soul. You have brought light into my life with your smile, your kindness, your humor, and your beauty. Your sense of adventure and eagerness to explore have me wanting nothing more than to share every moment of every day with you. Please, do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Henry Oliver Hopkins. Please, Quincy, say you’ll become my wife.”
“Yes, oh my God, yes,” Quincy said, tears welling in her eyes. Pushing to his feet, he could feel her trembling as he took the ring from its velvet resting place. It was a vintage ring, with a one carat asscher cut diamond in the center with half-carat asscher cut diamonds on either side. There were additional diamonds set into the platinum band and the whole ring sparkled as he lifted her hand to slide it onto her finger, only then realizing she was wearing gloves. When she started to laugh, he chuckled.
Sliding it onto her ring finger with a bit of a push, he grinned. “Sorry, forgot about the gloves being a requirement.”
Quincy broke into harder laughter until Henry stood, growing a little concerned. “Honey, are you okay?”
Nodding her head, she attempted to speak until Venia, Lizzy and several of her dearest friends and neighbors stepped forward, making their presence known. As Henry watched, his fiancée looked around the group and burst into fresh peals of laughter. Henry felt a little lost as he put his arm around her waist.
Finally, she was only giggling as she wiped her eyes. “It’s just that… oh my, I asked for a sign that I deserved to find another man to love me. I… I just never imagined the answer would be as brilliantly clear as this diamond.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Henry confessed, grateful that their friends were drawing a bit closer as if also a trifle concerned about Quincy’s reaction.
Corbin's Bend Homecoming Page 59