was for the best,” I said. In more ways than one.
We chatted about the old neighborhood and our mutual acquaintances for a while after that, and at last I took my leave. I needed to get home to prepare for the party.
I wasn’t sure that I had learned anything important, exactly, but it was something to think about. And I would keep my eye out for tall, dark-haired gentlemen among our potential suspects. And possibly those with an interest in graphology.
* * *
“At least I look the part,” I muttered to myself, as I stood in my flat a few minutes to seven o’clock that evening.
I felt a bit like Cinderella on her way to the ball, if Cinderella had been primarily focused on committing a burglary.
I did one final turn before the mirror, taking in my appearance. The gown had been waiting for me when I arrived home from my visit with Maudie Johnson. It had been delivered in a large white box, and I had gasped when I pushed aside the wrapping to pull it out.
It was a much prettier gown than anything I’d ever owned before. It was made of a deep burgundy velvet and had a fitted waist and long, flowing skirt with an extra bit of fabric to the side that was held in place with a glittering pin at my hip.
It hugged me in all the right places, drawing attention to my curves. The square neckline was a bit lower than one I might have chosen for myself, but I couldn’t deny that it made me look rather glamorous. It was low-cut enough to “allude to my bosom,” as Nacy would say, and the thick straps across my shoulders called attention to the skin of my neck.
They’d even sent along a beautiful pair of satin heels and real silk stockings. What luxury!
My hair, for once, had turned out just the way I intended, with a soft wave across the front and a perfectly smooth chignon fastened with a crystal barrette. I looked older with my hair this way, which I thought suited me.
As I didn’t own any good jewelry, I went without. I had a few decent costume pieces, but the people I would be mixing with tonight would know the difference. Anyway, the gown was elegant enough to stand on its own.
I’d gone a bit heavy on the mascara, and I’d chosen a lipstick that matched the oxblood color of the gown. All told, the effect was striking with my black hair and pale skin.
What would Major Ramsey think of it all? This question sprung to my mind before I realized it was going to, and I felt irritated with myself. What did it matter what he thought?
If I was honest, though, I was glad that I looked well. Every other time he had seen me, my appearance had been a bit of a mess, and I was vain enough to want him to know that I could be pretty when I chose to be.
Besides, he was a good-looking man in a city where men were scarce. Surely I could acknowledge the fact without attaching any particular significance to it.
I had just spritzed myself with an expensive Parisian perfume Felix had given me for Christmas last year and gathered my coat and handbag when there was a rap at my door.
Opening it, I was greeted by the major. He was attired in his dress uniform, and I couldn’t help but admire how well he looked. Now that I had decided that it was perfectly reasonable to find him attractive in a vague, indifferent way, I took a bit more notice of the way the khaki-greenish uniform seemed to emphasize his height and long legs, the leather Sam Browne belt accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and trim waist.
He was looking me over as I looked him over, I realized. His eyes ran from top to bottom and back again, and I was fairly certain I didn’t imagine that they lingered a bit on the places where the dress hugged me just right. I felt a hint of gratification that he had seemed to notice me as a woman, though I was not at all sure that he would think of me in those terms. After all, he had made it very clear in the past that I was primarily a thief in his eyes.
“Shall I do, do you think?” I asked.
I half expected him to say something rude, but instead he nodded, his