With the obvious delight that I took in the first dress she tried on, Daise tried to stop there, but I insisted that she try the other dresses on too. As it turned out, the first one remained her favourite, but I insisted on buying a second as well.
That set the mood for the rest of our shopping expedition. We visited the shoe-shop next and Daise and I picked out a beautiful pair of black high heels that were held on with two small straps across the top of her feet and another around the back of her ankle. They had a delicate stiletto heel that was about 15 cm high. Daise paraded the shoes for me, and I was enraptured. They changed the contour of her legs, emphasising their length and slender beauty.
Somewhere in the middle of the process of choosing the shoes, Bev caught my eye and, with a tiny smile on her face, waved goodbye to me, and disappeared. She had realised that we didn't need her any more to reassure Daise, so she was slipping away to let us get on with it.
Once we had the shoes, and a pair of sheer stockings to go with them, we moved on to the beauty salon. I had seen the results of their expertise before, when they had selected Mandy, my eldest daughter, for a make-over, to be used in their advertising, so I was very confident of their skill. I had a chat to the lady who owned the Salon, and explained a little of the situation to her. She told me not to worry; just to leave Daise in her care for an hour or so and she would ensure that everything was sorted out. I told Daise that she should just give me a call when she was finished and left to sit at a coffee-shop nearby to read the paper and wait.
I never did get that call. About an hour and a half later, I heard a tentative 'Rupert?' and when I looked up, saw the salon owner standing beaming proudly at me, and next to her stood Daise. She was fully dressed in her outfit. Her make-up had been completely redone, that was obvious. I knew enough about make-up to know that the less you saw, the better it was applied, and this was applied with exquisite skill. Her eyes looked larger; her cheek-bones were enhanced in some way that seemed to give her face more character and her lips had their natural bow-shape reinforced. There was nothing garish at all, and you could be forgiven for thinking that it was her natural face you were seeing. They had, at my request, done very little to her hair. It hung down her back in a beautiful stream, but there were two thin braids on the sides of her hair that had been drawn back and clipped together behind her head. This served to hold the hair out of her face.
I heard a laugh and realised it was the Salon owner. "Dearie, you don't have to wait for him to say anything, his face should tell you all you need to know," she said to Daise and turned and left.
I stood up and took Daise's hands in mine, then leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "You look absolutely stunning," I told her.
"Thank you," she said, "I wasn't sure, but she said that I can come back to her for lessons in how to do this for myself."
"Well, I think that if she can teach you her particular magic, then we should make sure that happens." I watched a faint blush spread across her cheeks. "Let's go. I want to take you home and then I need to get dressed so that we can go."
We didn't take long to get back to my place. I watched Daise's face surreptitiously to see her reaction when we went through the electric gate and up the driveway. I had deliberately left the fence-line facing the road to get completely over-grown so that I had privacy from the road, and also to discourage burglars from seeing anything that might attract them. As we drove around a bend in the driveway, the house became visible. It was a double story, with a thatched roof and approaching from the road all you could see was the back. I drove into the double garage and turned off the car.
"Your house is very big and beautiful," Daise told me.
"Thank you. I love the house, but I love the view more. Come, I'll get you settled in your room then you can admire the view from the veranda while I get changed."
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Mail Order Bride (Novel)
Ficción GeneralBeing lonely is a bitch. Rupert has been divorced for over a year and can't seem to manage the dating scene. His daughter pushes him into investigating a Russian Mail-Order Bride site and to his surprise, he is soon busy arranging for the visit of o...