“I have to go there.” She pointed to the desk. “Sometimes I have to wait, then someone escorts me.”
“They didn’t give you a key?”
“A key to the city? Why no, no one has mentioned it.”
He closed his eyes a moment. “Stand right here. Don’t move, understand?”
She nodded, then looked away to hide her smile. He was certainly anxious to keep her near him.
After some discussion at the desk and after shaking hands with Mr. Catton, J.T. returned and led her to the elevator. “I’ll never be more glad to get into bed in my life,” he said when the doors closed.
Aria did smile at that.
He unlocked the door to the room, went inside, leaving her standing in the hallway. A moment later his arm shot out, caught her hand, and pulled her inside. He stood very close to her as he locked the door and Aria modestly looked at her clasped hands. Now they were alone.
J.T. yawned and stretched. “Bed. I can see it,” he said, and began to stagger through the living room into the bedroom. He got one shoe off then fell across the bed and was asleep.
Aria was still standing by the door. She waited a few minutes but heard no sound from the bedroom, so she timidly crossed the room. He was already in bed. He seemed to be asleep but she knew he was waiting for her.
“I’ll…I’ll get ready,” she whispered, and went to the bureau to get a nightgown.
She saw immediately that there was nothing appropriate for her wedding night. This was a night that happened only once in a woman’s life and she wanted to look her best.
She glanced at J.T. and thought he looked suspiciously as if he were asleep. A moment later he twitched and made a noise like a snore.
Glancing at the little clock by the bed, she saw that it was only four P.M. Perhaps she could go to one of those American stores she had seen on the way here and get a proper nightgown—one that would keep a new husband from sleeping.
Softly, she crept from the room after checking that her handbag had a clean handkerchief. All the green money papers Lieutenant Montgomery had given her were gone.
She did what she always did when she wanted to go out: she asked for Mr. Catton and he got a car for her and paid the driver. She had some difficulty explaining where she wanted to go without losing her dignity. He finally asked a pretty young girl who worked in the hotel and soon Aria was on her way.
The taxi driver let her off in front of a very large building; Aria had never seen a department store before. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself or perhaps it was the sight of a Paris original dress, but three women nearly ran to wait on her. She chose the oldest woman.
“I wish to be shown ladies’ sleeping attire.”
“Right this way, ma’am,” said the saleswoman, feeling superior for having been chosen.
Two hours later, the woman was not so pleased. Aria had tried on every nightgown in the store and discarded most of them on the floor. The saleswoman had difficulty keeping up the supply and refolding them, as well as having to help Aria take them off and on.
At last Aria seemed to settle on a low-cut, off-the-shoulder, heavenly concoction of pink silk voile and satin.
The saleswoman sighed in relief. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll box it for you.” When she found she had to help Aria dress, she also found she was losing her temper.
Moments later the saleswoman was slamming the nightgown into a box. “Expected me to wait on her like I was her damned servant or something.”
“Shh,” said her fellow employee. “The floor walker will hear you.”
“I’ll let him deal with her.”
Aria came out of the dressing room just in time to see the clerk close the lid on the pink nightgown. As the woman turned away to make out the sales slip, Aria picked up the box and started walking toward the door.
“Oh my God!” the clerk gasped. “She’s stealing it.”
* * *
The telephone rang eleven times before J.T. awoke fully enough to answer it. “Yes?” he said groggily.
“You Lieutenant Montgomery?”