Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Preparations

In the end, Will was willing to let me use Ada's sewing machine to keep me from dragging him to Savile Row. It was somewhat strange to have him watch me a I cleaned it, the dust revealing that it was actually a well made machine in good condition. It needed oiling though, fortunately some had been left in the drawers in its cabinet. Will, in the desk chair, watched as I shook up the oil and applied it to the points on the machine, "I never would have figured you for knowing how to run one of these."

I placed a few drops in the last hole, spinning the belt fed wheel in my hand to distribute it. the machine resisted slightly, but slowly began running smoothly as I worked it. I looked over my shoulder, "My father was very practical in terms of my education. And unlike the time he thought I should take up fencing, my mother agreed with him that I should learn to use a sewing machine."

"So what other practical subjects did you cover?" He asked, his voice light.

"Horseback riding, even astride." I couldn't help but smirk at him over my shoulder, "Swimming, archery, tennis, he was very adamant that I exercise. And he pushed for mathematics, history, and whatever else struck him as useful." The machine running smoothly now, I turned to the treadle. The footboard needed little work, running quickly under my feet. The leather belt feeding the motion to the machine though was rather loose, and I released the hook from the end of it. "My mother wanted me to learn dancing and embroidery, copperplate and fine sewing. She even had a tutor teach me poetry, although he despaired about my sketching."

"Is there anything you didn't learn?"

"Languages, just couldn't get them to stick." I shook my head, thinking of the tutors who had tried to impress innumerable French lessons into me. Sitting and conjugating verbs in French, Italian and German had seemed so boring when I could have been chasing after a tennis ball or working on the draw on my bow. Mother had constantly despaired of my ignorance until my coming out, at that point my education had been considered complete and she had to content herself with the fact the I could sew a straight seam and tread water for over an hour. Ada had stored an awl in one of the drawers, and I used it to poke a hold in the leather belt and thread the hook through it. I glanced over to Will, "I don't suppose you know any other languages?"

"Scots, or Gaelic if you want to get specific about it." Will countered, "Not that I have much occasion to use it."

I watched as the needle quickly moved through the plate on the bottom of the machine, the now tight belt moving smoothly. "Say something in it."

"Chan urrainn dhomh a chreidsinn gu bheil thu còmhla rium". Will had to think for a moment before speaking, his voice rising and the burr in it thick.

I worked the bobbin case out and set the bobbin itself on the winder, "And what does that mean?"

"I can't believe you're with me," I felt Will slide his arms around my shoulders, "Do you need me to get changed yet?"

"You can, I'll have to get ahold of some pins before I get to work." I leaned back into his touch, "And wear your suit inside out, it makes it easier to adjust the seams." He came back, looking rather foolish in his suit, but I set to with pins. First was the jacket, already well fitted but I brought it in a little around his waist. I'd have to pick the lining off to adjust the seams, but that would not take too long. With the jacket finished, I set to on the waistcoat. It was easier, already making Will's waist look trim, but I still brought it in just a bit. I felt Will move under me, jerking away. "You're not ticklish are you?"

"No," He swallowed, "Just a bit nervous of the pins."

"Please Will, do you know how many times I've been stuck during a fitting? It doesn't even hurt that much." I set my fingers to undoing the buttons of his waistcoat, setting it aside. The trousers were all that was left, and I knelt down to work on them. It would have been better if I had something for Will to stand on, but he was flat on the floor. I wadded up my skirt under my knees to provide some cushion, and focused on the trousers. I could bring them in a little, and I gently pulled the fabric tighter. I had just slipped a pin into the wool when the material seemed to move, I looked up. "Will, if you don't stand still I might prick you."