Page 110 of Ruby Red (The Ruby Red Trilogy 1)

“Okay, I got that,” said Lesley. “Wow, this is weird! We should have gotten you a knife or pepper spray or something.… I know! You can take your mobile with you.”

I tripped my way over to the door in my long, full dress and peered cautiously out into the passage. “What, into the past? Do you think I’ll be able to call you from there?”

“Don’t be silly! But you can take photos—they’d be a help to us. Oh, and I’d just love to see one of your Gideon! With his ears showing, if possible. Ears tell you a lot about a person. Especially the earlobes.”

I could hear footsteps. I quietly closed the door. “Here we go. I’ll be in touch later, Lesley!”

“Just be careful,” said Lesley yet again, but then I closed my phone and slipped it into my décolletage. The little space under my breasts was just the right size for a mobile. I wondered what ladies in the old days used to keep in there. Little bottles of poison? Miniature revolvers? Love letters?

The first thing that went through my head when Gideon came into the room was, why doesn’t he have to wear a hat? The second thing was, how can anyone look good in a red moiré waistcoat, dark green trousers that cut off at the knee, and striped silk stockings? If I thought anything else, it was probably, I hope to goodness no one can guess what I’m thinking right now.

The green eyes passed swiftly over me. “Nice hat.”

Damn him.

“Lovely,” said Mr. George, coming into the room behind him. “Madame Rossini, you’ve worked wonders.”

“Yes, I know,” said Madame Rossini. She had stayed out in the corridor. The sewing room wasn’t big enough for all of us. My skirt took up half the space on its own.

Gideon had tied his hair at the back of his neck, and I saw my chance to get my own back. “Nice velvet bow,” I said with all the sarcasm I could summon up. “Mrs. Counter, our geography teacher, always wears exactly the same thing.”

Instead of looking angrily at me, Gideon grinned. “Oh, the bow is nothing special. You should see me in a wig.”

Strictly speaking, I already had.

“Monsieur Gideon, I ’ad put out zose lemon-yellow breeches for you, not ze dark ones.” When Madame Rossini was annoyed her accent was stronger, and she forgot how to say an h or th now and then.

Gideon turned to Madame Rossini. “Yellow breeches with a red waistcoat and a brown coat with gold buttons? I thought it was just too many bright colors.”

“Men of ze Rococo period liked colors.” Madame Rossini looked at him severely. “And I am ze expert here, not you!”

“Yes, Madame Rossini,” said Gideon politely. “I’ll listen to you next time.”

I looked at his ears. They didn’t stick out at all, and there was nothing else odd about them. Of course I didn’t really care.

“Where are ze yellow chamois leather gloves?”

“Oh, I thought if I wasn’t going to wear the breeches, I’d better steer clear of the gloves as well.”

“Of course!” Madame Rossini huffed. “With respect to your sense of fashion, young man, we’re not talking good taste here, we’re talking authenticity. And I took care to pick colors that would suit your complexion, you ungrateful boy.”

Grumbling, she let us go past her.

“Thank you very, very much, Madame Rossini,” I said.

“Ah, my little swan-necked beauty! It was a pleasure! At least you appreciate my work.” I had to grin. I liked the idea of being swan-necked.

Mr. George’s eyes twinkled at me. “If you’ll follow me, please, Miss Gwyneth.”

“We have to blindfold her first,” said Gideon, about to take my hat off my head.

“Dear me, yes. I’m afraid Dr. White insists on it,” said Mr. George, with an apologetic smile.

“But it will ruin her ’airstyle!” Madame Rossini snatched Gideon’s fingers away. “Tiens! Do you want to pull ’er ’air off ’er ’ead? Never ’eard of a ’atpin? There!” She firmly planted the hat and hatpin in Mr. George’s hands. “And carry that ’at carefully!”

Gideon tied a black scarf around my eyes. I automatically held my breath as his hand touched my cheek, and unfortunately I couldn’t keep myself from blushing. But luckily he couldn’t see that because he was standing behind me.

“Ow!” I said. He’d caught a few of my hairs in the knot.

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