Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

An Agreement

I could tell James was glad to be back, although he had been rather red faced and stammered quite a bit when he had dropped off the letters and a number of packages from Will. I had stopped him before he left, a few letters of my own held out to him. "Would you be so kind as to take these to the Vanderbilts? Invitations to my birthday party, and there's one for you as well."

James had gladly slipped away to their house, and I had amused myself with unwrapping my presents from Will. He had sent over some birthday gifts, although part of me thought he was had gone a bit insane. The hat, a flat little thing with a puffball in the middle, was rather adorable if a bit ridiculous, but it would be fun to wear to a party. The gloves he sent fit perfectly over my hands, and I decided that I would wear them with my tartan sometime for the holidays.

But what had made me blush was the fact that Will had sent me a number of obscene chemises that he must have been drunk to have thought of! And that he all but asked me to send him a number of racy pictures of myself wearing them. I mean, I wouldn't be as bare as I had been in the pictures I had taken for him before, but it almost felt more indecent. I had tried them on, after dismissing Louise and making sure that Mother wasn't going to come into my dressing room on a whim, and I had found myself shivering when I saw myself in the mirror.

The lace hid nothing, and the fabric between it was so sheer I could practically see the color of my skin through it. I immediately wanted my dressing gown, but forced myself to try on the others. But each one seemed almost worst, and after the last I found the most conservative dress I owned and buttoned myself into it.

It wasn't that I didn't want to send Will more pictures of myself, but he already had some! And I was wearing far less, why couldn't my husband be content with those? I liked to consider myself a respectable woman of morals, at least outside of my marital bed, and if Mother caught me with these or the letter from Will, oh I would be back under lock and key at the Fifth Avenue house! I hastily crammed the chemises into the hatbox with my other filthy items, deciding to think about it later.

But for now, I was focused on the small birthday party I'd been planning. The thought of a large party made me uncomfortable, despite the fact that Oscar had told me he had heard people speaking positively of me after the costume party. I just didn't want to have so many guests around, and with hosting it here at the dock house, it would mainly be a meal which would lead to conversation.

Which, nowadays, meant talking about the war.

In response, I had limited the guest list, inviting the Vanderbilts, James, the Fields and Sophie. Friends who were aware of the fact that I did not want to talk about the war in the slightest, and had been there to support me through all of this. Mr. Rigby had sniffed at the list, although Peggy had swiftly pointed out that the dock house was her domain and she approved of every person on the list. Mother had had to step in and mollify Mr. Rigby by allowing him to supervise the menu creation for the party.

Then another disagreement had broken out about the decorations. I had wanted something simple, while Mr. Rigby had already given orders for my wedding china, crystal and silver to be washed and polished. Peggy had found me, and I had to endure a tirade about her authority in the household being usurped. It had led to me pinching my nose, "Peggy, you know Mother only brought him over because she's staying here longer."

"I know, I know," She sighed, "But I should have been the one to give the maids orders and they listened to him without even thinking about me!"

"You know they're scared of him." I teased, "He's the scary butler from the fancy house, of course they're going to hop to when he says something."

"Well, what am I left with?"

"The rest of the decorations, I'll tell Mr. Rigby I'm trusting you with the flowers and everything else. Although I would appreciate it if you could try and blend everything together." I had sent her off to the florist, and fortunately things had turned out rather well. Peggy had ignored the ribbons that the florist sometimes sent with their decorations, instead insisting on simple displays and using some of the more embellished crystal to hold them.