My heart sank. I hadn’t thought at all about the possible impact on Trey.
“I’m not saying that you should end your friendship with Trey immediately, Kate. You still have a few days. Just enjoy the relationship for what it is—for what it has to be. Otherwise, you’re going to end up much sadder than you need to be when it ends. Because it will have to end.”
16
Despite my best efforts to replicate the sleek and sophisticated updo that was described step-by-step in the September 1893 edition of The Delineator, my hair was still down. I was used to tucking my hair up in a knot for school, but that was apparently too simple for women in the 1890s. The style required several side braids tucked into complicated loops of hair, all of it held into place by combs and heaven knows what else to form a gravity-defying swoop. I eventually gave up in frustration.
From the neck down, however, I was now in costume. The shoes that Katherine had ordered from an online costume house had arrived that afternoon, a few hours after the dress and undergarments were delivered from the seamstress. I helped Connor and Katherine slip tiny silver receivers of some sort into the fabric of the dress, the undergarments, and the boots to make sure they didn’t disappear if I took them off. The receivers amplified the CHRONOS field—a setup similar to what Connor had rigged for the house but on a much smaller scale. This finally solved a question that had been bugging me for weeks. What was to stop a historian from snagging a Picasso sketch or stuffing her bag full of gold to bring back with her? It wasn’t just respect for CHRONOS rules and regs. She wouldn’t be able to sell the items because she’d be caught as soon as the stolen object left the protection of a medallion and the new purchaser discovered he or she held nothing but an empty bag.
The boots were made of a soft white leather. Katherine said they were kidskin, which I’m pretty sure means baby goat, and I tried not to think about that as I slipped them on. They fit okay, but it took forever to connect all of the buttons, even after Connor improvised a buttonhook.
And then there were the buttons on the back of the dress. “I could save everyone a great deal of agony,” I remarked, “if I just sneaked some Velcro into one of the invention exhibits.” Based on the books I’d been reading, everything from the automatic dishwasher to Juicy Fruit gum was being displayed to the visitors at the Exposition. “I could just slip a package to that guy at the fair who was demonstrating the first zipper—I’m sure he’d be delighted at the upgrade.”
Connor raised an eyebrow. “Don’t let Katherine hear you talking like that. She’ll be convinced that you’re too much like your grandfather to trust on a CHRONOS mission.” His lip twitched slightly, as if he was repressing a smile. “History is sacred—like a nature hike. ‘Leave only footprints, take only memories.’” His voice sounded like a cross between Katherine and a tour guide at a museum.
The doorbell and Daphne simultaneously announced Trey’s arrival, just as I was starting on the buttons on the second shoe. When I finished, I left the library—a bit shaky on the unusually shaped heels—and began, very carefully, to descend the staircase. Trey was already seated on the couch, reading through his British literature assignment.
His face lit up when he saw me. “Well, good afternoon, Miss Scarlett.”
I glanced down at the dress. The fabric was green silk, so I could see the comparison. The color was more vivid and closer to a dark emerald green, however, than the dress that Scarlett had created from recycled curtains in Gone with the Wind. The cut was narrower, too—and I was very glad of that fact, since it meant fewer hot, sticky crinolines. The bodice was fitted, with a square neck and sleeves that were puffed above my elbow and snug to the arm below, with ivory lace trim.
“You’re about four decades off, Mr. Coleman,” I replied in my very best Deep South drawl, holding a pretend fan to my face. “But flattery will get you everywhere.”
He met me at the foot of the stairs. “Seriously, Kate, you look beautiful. The dress really brings out the color of your eyes.” He glanced down at his school-mandated khakis. “I feel way underdressed for the prom.”
Prom. Another reminder of the world outside, where it was now approaching the end of the school year. Trey had mentioned finals a few times, but I hadn’t even thought about the junior prom. I’d studiously avoided all school dances in the past, but with Trey, it might not have been so bad to dress up and dance under twinkle lights and crepe paper. “Briar Hill’s prom…,” I began.