Some Enchanted Dream: A Time Travel Adventure (Seasons of Enchantment Book 2) (12 page)

"Gambling is a universal language, kid. I had the coin and the skill, that spoke for me. Earned us another thousand, in francs this time, not pounds."

So, that was it
. Dan gave Adrian some of his winnings from the card table. She nodded to Dan, grateful to him for easing her husband's cares about money.

"It will be such an adventure," Gisele went on. "One you will wish to repeat again and again. You cannot take in all the sights in one day. It is
tres magnifique
."

The prospect of a day at the Paris Exposition was exhilarating. Tara made her excuses and went to get dressed. She had the choice of three dresses. The light cotton print, the blue silk ball gown, or the two-piece beige skirt and jacket set she had been wearing previously that needed to be laundered. She chose the light coral cotton print and draped it over the brass footboard of the bed. The ivory shawl and gloves would complement the dress nicely. 

Gisele popped her head into the room, noted Tara's struggles to put on her corset by lacing it in front instead of in back. Gisele grasped the edges and turned the corset around her torso so the lacings were where they belonged, in the back. Tara had discovered that lacing it in front and then twisting the closure to the back when she finished worked just fine when she was alone, but then, she didn't tie herself in very tightly. She went for comfort over torment.

Apparently her new friend did not share her sense of practicality, as she was jerking the laces so hard that the corset was nearly biting into Tara's skin at her waist.

"Not so tight!" Tara could almost feel her ribs about to pop beneath the rigid stricture.

"It is intended to be tight,
cherie
. Where did you come by this old corset?" Gisele jerked the lacing tighter and tighter as she spoke, making Tara jerk and gasp with each new pinch of the fabric flattening her waist and her breasts. "It looks like the one my grandmother wore when I was a small child. Ireland must be terribly behind in fashion."

"Please, stop. Loosen it or I will pass out before we make it down Montmartre hill." Tara yanked and pulled at the edge of the wretched garment.

Mumbling, Gisele plucked her fingers through the lacings to loosen them as Tara asked.

Tara sighed long and loud. The ability to breath was more important than fashion. More important than wearing a device that in her mind was associated more with bondage games than beauty. She managed the stockings and garter without aid.

When Gisele handed her the pantalets, Tara shook her head.

"Why not, you'll be nearly naked?" Gisele was aghast at her refusal.

"No, I'll be comfortable. I have a petticoat. Add the pantalets and I'll surely overheat."

"But, it is expected--"

"No one will know, Gisele. I wore only a petticoat and stockings beneath my dresses in Ireland, all the time." Granted, it had been an Ireland ninety years earlier, when only little girls in short dresses wore pantalets to cover their calves.

Gisele helped her with the petticoat by lifting it over her head and then tying the strings at the back of Tara's waist. The spare bustle cage Gisele borrowed her was the next piece to go on. Tara had only worn it once before when she'd gone out of the apartment with her friend to shop. It wasn't as bad as a corset, it did not pinch or hold one in. The so called cage was really just a wire form that was attached to her waist from behind and tied at the front with sturdy cotton apron strings. The classic butt bump resembled the bars of a small bird cage. The wire was covered with quilting and cotton. The wires arched back as they descended from her hips to forma scrolled letter
f.
It was intended to hold the back of her dress out from her legs so the fabric would drape elegantly behind her. Once the bustle was secured at her waist, her dress went on quickly, as did her laced high top shoes.

Gisele wound Tara's long hair into a simple knot at the top of her head that allowed it to drape slightly over her ears and neck in a poof of Victorian elegance. A wide brimmed hat with flowers completed her ensemble. Gisele showed her how to secure it to her hair with a long pin. The woman nodded her approval and handed Tara the ivory shawl and long white gloves. "You are a vision,
ma cher
e."

They walked the narrow streets of Montmartre toward the city of Paris below them. Adrian and Dan doffed their hats to a few people, and it quickly became apparent they had been about the local neighborhood more than Tara had. As the four of them walked down the steep hill Adrian leaned heavily on his cane so his progress was slower than Dan's. Gisele walked ahead with Dan. Tara adjusted her pace to match Adrian's steps on the steep grade. She cursed herself once more for the events of that morning in early March when he was shot in their home.

As Dan said during her morose moments of self blame, it was better to walk with a cane for the rest of your life than to swing by the neck until you were dead.

Even so, Tara couldn't put away the niggling feelings of guilt. As Captain Midnight, he had been a hero to his people, a warrior valiantly trying to protect them from the cruelty of British soldiers. Thanks to Tara, his days of sneaking about in the darkness were over.

"Smile, darlin'," he whispered, offering his elbow to her as if she needed help walking rather than he. "You're too serious for such a fine day. We're off to a fair, not the gallows."

She gave him a sweet smile and clutched his arm.

As they walked the wide boulevard lined with chestnut trees, carriages rolled by in a grand procession. All of Paris was out and about, the moneyed and the middle class all parading the streets and sidewalks, hoping to see and be seen. The women passing Tara made her realize her light cotton dress was rather plain. Most of the women wore heavier silks with long sleeved jackets, even though it was a warm May afternoon. Tara didn't mind not being dressed so grand, as she would not bake in the hot sun because of her vanity. She could have worn that pretty blue silk damask, but that would be torture in this weather. Ahead of her, Gisele was wearing a linen two piece walking dress of periwinkle blue and a fashionable hat. The pretty woman would be roasting by the time they reached their destination as sun rose higher in the skies.

After they turned the corner and moved down the next boulevard, the scent of lilacs in bloom perfumed the air. Adrian paused and looked about the street. Tara admired the cultured street filled with people on this serene and sunny Sunday afternoon. The men wore trousers now instead of knee breeches and hose. She noted bowlers and top hats floating by, accompanied by the wide brimmed, elaborate feather hats of the ladies being escorted by their beaus.

The butter yellow omnibus with black trim and huge black horses came around the corner at the intersection ahead. They were able to garner two seats on the first level so Adrian didn't have to climb the stairs. Dan and Gisele took the open seats on the second level, in the open air.

*   *   *

For a man who spent most of the night drinking and gambling, Dan felt light and free. He had a lovely woman beside him, smiling demurely at him and giving him her full attention.

She was a looker, no doubt about that. Other men on the benches ahead of him kept casting their eyes back toward them, as if they couldn't believe such a beauty would choose to muck about with a middle aged chump like himself.

He held on to the railing curling around the back of the vehicle as they pulled away from the curb. The clip-clop of horses hooves on the street soothed his mind. He liked carriages, and the simpler, slower time they represented. No smell of gas and exhaust in the streets, no big semi truck pumping air brakes, no police sirens screeching as they whizzed past at a frantic pace. Sure, there was the smell of horse, and horse shit here and there, but it was cleaned up quickly here, as it seemed the Parisians didn't wish the multitudes of foreigners visiting their fair city to be offended by the sight and smell of steaming horse apples cooking in the sun.

He was falling in love.

Not with the woman beside him, although that could be a possibility. He'd met her twice before, coming and going on the stairs so it was too early to claim that heady emotion with Tara's new friend.

No, he was falling in love with this time, this city, this elegant yet peaceful era in history. In trying to escape the tight confines of their apartment in the past weeks so Tara and Adrian could work through their loss and their difficulties, Dan had spent many hours walking the streets and visiting various establishments to amuse himself. He'd been to the Hotel Dieu, and watched the physicians at work, as anyone who simply claimed to have a medical degree was allowed inside the theatre above the surgery table to watch a procedure. He'd learned that Americans were allowed to enroll in the medical college free of charge, no questions asked.

The wax museum across from the Cafe Veron had been a fun excursion. As had the
Coq Bleu
, a cabaret with women who thrust their legs up so men of this age could see their knees and thighs! Good God in heaven, there was even a woman at the
Reine Blanche
who was known far and wide as
Nini of the Beautiful Thighs
. The men flocked to see her reveal her famous legs. He'd gone with Arthur the other night to see the divine creature. That was a hoot, he thought as he watched the elaborate architecture pass by from his perch on the top level of the bus.

These poor gents had no idea what they were missing in the future, women strutting about in shorts and halter tops everywhere you looked. In this time, the women were laced up tight from ankle to neck, so the arousal of seeing a girl lift her skirts to show her legs was a treat. You had to go to the clubs to see a real girl beneath all that fluff of petticoats and heavy skirts. It might seem tame to a man of the future, but in truth, he found the restrictions more alluring.

The omnibus stopped, and men filed past them as he and Gisele sat at the back, near the curved stairway exit.

"M'sieur Wilson, you are Tara's father, from America,
Oui
?" As the crowd of men dispersed and they were alone, the pretty brunette finally found the courage to speak to him.

Dan glanced at his companion. She had the most perfect little mouth, like a pink bow. Kissable. Her eyes were like sapphires. And he was acting like a dolt, gazing at her as if he'd never seen a woman before in his life. "Ah, yeah. I'm her adopted father, you might say."

"Adopted?" She wrinkled her flawless brow and seemed to ponder the word. "It is like the word borrowed in your language?"

He chuckled at her question. "Borrowed, yeah . . . but her parents are dead so I can't give her back. It's more like acquired, as in a permanent situation."

Gisele nodded, as if his explanation made perfect sense. "And you are a Lumber Baron?"

"Did she say that?" He sighed, and reached into his jacket for his cigar case. He opened it and pulled out a precious cylinder and put it into his mouth. That was another thing he loved about this century. Nobody was harping on him to not smoke and there weren't obnoxious signs everywhere prohibiting it. He lit a match and sucked deep. With an exhale of smoke, but careful not to blow it in her face--he wasn't a complete lout--he chuckled at her idea of his being a lumber baron and shook his head. "Nope, I'm an engineer, and a physician."

The engineer part was true, as that had been his title at the radio station in 2016. And as he had a four year nursing degree, he liked to think he had a little edge on physicians of the past when it came to medical practices.

"May I?" Big, blue eyes captured his attention.

Dan looked down at his hand, as her petite gloved hand was clutching his wrist just inches from where his cigar dangled. Unable to speak as his trousers suddenly became tight, he nodded. The gorgeous woman beside him took his smoke from his fingers, lifted it to her lips, and inhaled as if she were savoring the taste of a decadent chocolate. She had closed her eyes, and her lips turned up into a cat-like smile of pleasure as she moaned with delight.

Moaned
. He felt that sensual sound. It caressed his skin and reverberated in his loins.

Oh, Christ, he was in trouble. Beautiful, sensual woman, bumming a smoke and enjoying it. There was only one reason to react with such wanton passion to the simple gesture; he'd been too long without a woman.

The bus stopped. He looked about them, surprised to realize he'd missed the scenery for the past fifteen minutes and they were at their destination, below the scarlet tower, at the entrance to the World's Fair. Dan took a deep breath and tugged his jacket tight over his lap as they rose.  He was self-conscious, suddenly,  like a green kid sporting wood in the middle of co-ed gym class.

He let Gisele go down the stairs ahead of him, so she wouldn't notice his bulging erection.

Chapter Ten

"Oh. My. God. It's so . . .
big
!" 

It defied description. Tara stopped short and was gazing up at the tower above their heads. It was much bigger than any photograph could convey.

"Don't strain your neck, kid." She felt Dan's big hands on her shoulders as he squeezed them playfully.

Tara eyed Adrian, who was equally stunned as he gazed up at the newly built tower that would one day become an icon. She turned about to face Dan. "I had no idea. Have you been here before?"

"Yeah, I was here some years back. Been up to the top a few times."

"How could that be? The tower was only finished two months ago."

Dan guffawed loudly at Gisele's observation and smacked his brow with his palm. His eyes met Tara's. He was trying really hard not to crack up with laughter. "Um, I meant, I visited Paris many years ago. I climbed to the top of that cathedral," he snapped his fingers, "ah, Notre Dame."

Tara nodded. Yes, that was a safe bet, as the famous cathedral had been there since the thirteenth century. "You were out very late last night, Papa." She patted his arm as she spoke. "Perhaps you could use a cup of coffee to sort out your thoughts."