“You have more faith in women than I do,” Harker said, clamping down on his cigar.
The bedroom the maid led Hank to was quite nice. It was at the front of the second floor, looking north with east and west windows. There was a pretty little private balcony with two wrought-iron chairs and a tiny table. While standing on the balcony, to his left was the roof of the first-story verandah wrapping around the windows of what he assumed was another bedroom.
His room was dark and clean and the furniture of good quality, but it had none of the homey touches that Hank had grown used to with Mrs. Soames. He looked at the books in the bookcase and found nothing of interest and so began to hang up his clothes. He had refused Martha’s offer of help.
He removed his dusty traveling jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves and headed for the bathroom Martha had pointed out to him. The door was closed, so he knocked.
“Yes?” came a woman’s voice.
“I’m sorry,” Hank said, “I’ll come back.”
“I will be out in three and a half minutes,” said the woman.
Hank was already on his way back to his room when he heard this. A woman who knew exactly how long she was going to be in the bathroom? Hank stopped where he was and lounged against a wall where he could see the tall clock and the bathroom door.
As the hands neared three minutes, he reached into his pocket for a coin to flip to lay odds with himself whether or not she’d be punctual.
At exactly three and a half minutes the bathroom door opened and out stepped what Hank thought was surely the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Tall, thin—too thin—big brown eyes that looked wary, sad, frightened and curious all at once. Deep, dark chestnut hair. He didn’t see what she was wearing, for he seemed to see her in several gowns: medieval velvet, Napoleonic muslin, Victorian taffeta, Edwardian linen.
The coins in his hand fell to the floor.
“May I help you?” the woman-vision asked.
“I…ah, I…” Hank stuttered stupidly.
The next second the vision was gone and he was able to see again. No, she wasn’t the most beautiful woman in the world. She was very pretty, true, but, technically, she wasn’t as beautiful as Blythe Woodley. But he couldn’t stop staring at her.
“Are you Dr. Montgomery?” she asked.
He began to recover. “Yes, I am, and you are?”
“Amanda Caulden. Welcome to my home.”
She held out her hand to him and he almost didn’t take it. What in the world was wrong with him? “Thank you very much. I met your father and his son-in-law. You must have a married sister.” He was doing his best to make conversation but he was getting lost in her eyes. Not again, Montgomery, he commanded, thinking of what had happened with Blythe Woodley. Don’t even consider it.
“Taylor is my fiancé. Now, Dr. Montgomery, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late.”
“You’re leaving?” he said, then cursed to himself because he sounded like a little boy whose mother was leaving.
“No, I shall join you at luncheon. Shall I help you pick up your coins?”
“No, I can,” he said quickly, and immediately went to all fours and reached under a table for a coin, then turned to look up at Amanda and bumped his head. She took a step forward and saved a vase of flowers from falling to the floor.
“Perhaps I should call a maid,” she suggested.
“No, I’ll be fine,” he said, then bumped his head again.
Amanda just looked at him, expressionless, then opened the door to the room next to his and went inside, closing herself from his view.
Hank sat on the floor and cursed for a full five minutes, but he couldn’t get the image of her from his mind. He saw her as something from a painting from Fragonard: on a swing, laughing, satin skirts blowing, exposing lacy petticoats and tiny shoes with jeweled buckles. He saw her running through fields of golden wheat, long hair streaming out behind her. He saw her dancing a tango, wearing a slinky dress.
He saw her in his arms.
He stood, his eyes on the door to Amanda’s room, and, without conscious thought, he walked softly to her door and put his hand against it.
It was at that moment that Amanda opened the door to her room—and almost got Hank’s hand in her face.
She was too startled to do anything but stare at him, her eyes wide.