Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
A bigail started down the hall that led to the library. Mr. Bailey’s booted footsteps sounded behind her, making her heart race. Oh, for heaven’s sake. She’d just met the man a day ago, and here she was, fighting the temptation to look over her shoulder at him and smile.
“What do you think of popcorn?” he asked as he came alongside her.
Abigail stopped and stared at him. Popcorn at a ball? She thought for a moment. Maybe it would work…
“Well, we could give it a try, but we’ll have to talk to Mrs. Fraser about making it.”
“I’ll help her, if need be,” he said with a smile.
Abigail smiled back and continued down the hall. Mrs. Pettigrew was either in the library or her private drawing room. She often escaped there to be alone with her thoughts, and Abigail belatedly wondered if they were going to be disturbing her.
“Is something wrong?” Mr. Bailey asked.
She turned to face him and realized she’d stopped again. “No, I was just thinking. So long as ye make sure any stray kernels get picked up, then Mrs. Pettigrew should agree. More importantly, Mrs. Fraser. Seeing how she’ll be the one making the stuff. The last thing she’ll want is her kitchen floor decorated with popcorn.” She gave him a stern look, hoping to get her point across.
“I’d be glad to clean up,” he said. “I’m quite handy with a broom and a dustpan.”
She smiled at that, turned, and headed for the smaller drawing room. When she reached it, the double doors were closed, and she gave a soft knock.
“Come in,” Mrs. Pettigrew called.
Abigail slid the doors open and stepped inside, bobbing a courtesy. “Begging your pardon, Mrs. Pettigrew, but Mr. Bailey has come up with some good ideas for your ball. We thought you might like to hear them.”
Mrs. Pettigrew gave them a wide smile. “I certainly would. Come in, sit down.” She motioned for them to join her and waved at a settee across from the chair she occupied.
As soon as they were seated, Mrs. Pettigrew smiled again and nodded at Mr. Bailey.
He cleared his throat and leaned forward. Abigail took in his handsome features and realized he had a boyish charm about him. Maybe it was his spectacles that gave him an innocent air. “I want to propose a carnival ball,” he said.
“Carnival?” Mrs. Pettigrew sat back in her chair and smiled. “You intrigue me, Mr. Bailey. Go on.”
He looked at Abigail, and she gave him an encouraging smile. “Well,” he said, giving his attention back to Mrs. Pettigrew, “there would be the usual finery of any ball you would throw, but there would also be booths with games, complete with prizes.”
He beamed at their employer, and a tiny thrill went up Abigail’s spine. The man really was a genius.
Mrs. Pettigrew drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. “What a wonderful idea! What if we had entertainers, like…oh, let me see. A fire breather?”
“Yes! And maybe some gypsy dancers or jugglers,” he said.
Mrs. Pettigrew continued to smile and focused on Abigail. “What do you think?”
She blushed, then snorted. “He also thought of a kissing booth.” She snorted again, unable to help it.
Mrs. Pettigrew gave her an amused look. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Abigail said and fanned herself. “And I have no right to say it—I really don’t—but…”
“But…?” Mrs. Pettigrew prompted.
“Perhaps the kissing booth would be a good place to put Miss Harrington.” Abigail gave her a curt nod and sat as still and quiet as she could manage.
Mr. Bailey shoved his spectacles up his nose and pressed his lips into a firm line. She knew he was trying to keep from laughing and was about to fail. Thankfully, Mrs. Pettigrew did the laughing for them.
“Oh, goodness gracious! That could either be brilliant or turn into a complete disaster.” Once she calmed down, she gave them a nod. “I think a carnival ball would be magical. Is there anything else you came up with?”
Mr. Bailey looked at Abigail, who could only shrug. After all, she’d only seen a few of his sketches and didn’t know what other ideas he’d thought up.
He squared his shoulders and faced Mrs. Pettigrew again. “What about a carousel?”
Mrs. Pettigrew’s jaw went slack. “Goodness, Mr. Bailey, I wonder if that’s possible. Check into it. How marvelous it would be to get our hands on one.” She left her chair and began to pace.
“There will be the dance floor, of course,” he went on. “And plenty of paper lanterns, too.” He winked at Abigail.
“Splendid idea.” Mrs. Pettigrew smiled at him. “I must say, I’m quite pleased, Mr. Bailey. It’s obvious you’ve put some thought into this. Abigail, you helped, of course?”
She blushed again. Partly from his wink, and partly because she didn’t think she helped all that much. “Not exactly, ma’am.”
“Oh?”
“She was the perfect sounding board,” Mr. Bailey said, coming to her rescue.
Abigail glanced his way and gave him a shy smile. She’d have to thank him later.
“I presume you know what you’ll need to make this come about?” Mrs. Pettigrew asked him.
“We wanted to discuss that with you,” he said. “Considering the items needed, I’m afraid the cost will be more than what you might spend on your typical ball.”
“It’s no trouble,” Mrs. Pettigrew said with a wave of her hand. “In fact, the grander the better. This should be a celebration, considering it’s an engagement party, and I want my three brides and their fiancés to have a good time.” She eyed them both. “I’m sure the two of you can handle it.”
Abigail’s eyes widened. “But Mrs. Pettigrew, how am I going to be able to get all my work done and help with the ball?”
Her employer gave her a warm smile. “I discussed getting help, and I’ll do it now if need be. That frees you up from your regular chores to help Mr. Bailey. You can be my assistant’s assistant.” She retook her seat.
“We’ll also need help for some of the more laborious tasks,” Mr. Bailey said. “You know, putting up tents and building booths?”
“You’re quite right. Unless we hire an entire carnival,” Mrs. Pettigrew suggested.
Abigail sucked in a breath. “Oh goodness, that might be more trouble than it’s worth, ma’am.”
Mrs. Pettigrew tapped a finger against her chin. “Perhaps you’re right. Well then, that means we’ll just have to build our own. Mr. Bailey, spare no expense. This ball will be the talk of Denver! Can you have a list ready for me in the morning?”
“I can indeed, Mrs. Pettigrew,” he said with a smile. He shoved his spectacles up his nose and smiled at Abigail. She swore that smile widened, and a blush crept into her cheeks again.
Mrs. Pettigrew dismissed them, and they hurried back to the main drawing room. Mr. Bailey sat at the desk and began scribbling things down. “Let’s see…we can have popcorn, peanuts, and… we’ll ask Mrs. Fraser if she can think of some pastries to make. As far as games, there’s tin rings for tossing, and…”
“What?” Abigail said, interrupting him.
He turned in the chair to look at her. “Oh, do Americans enjoy that sort of game?”
“I suppose they would if they knew what it was.”
“You take a metal ring and try to toss it onto a cone or stick of some sort.”
Abigail thought about it. “I’m afraid I’ve never been to a carnival, so I wouldn’t know.”
He sucked in a breath. “Never?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. But I’ve heard plenty about them. Mrs. Fraser has attended, and of course, Mr. Tugs used to work in one.”
“Yes,” Mr. Bailey said with a nod. “He mentioned that he was an acrobat.”
“Oh, aye, and a good one too, I’m told.” She looked over his shoulder at the list. “What else should we have?”
His face screwed up in concentration for a moment, then he snapped his fingers. “What if we had an elephant?”
Her jaw dropped. “What?! Ye want to bring a giant beast onto the grounds? Are ye out of your mind, man?”
His face fell. “Not that we’d get our hands on one… but it’s a thought. You must admit, it would be quite the spectacle.”
“Oh, aye, it would, and Mrs. Pettigrew would be wanting to bring it into the house, no doubt. Thank the stars it won’t fit through any of the doors!”
He laughed. “I’ve been told there’s a maze on the grounds. What if the elephant wandered in there and got lost?”
“Trust me, Mrs. Pettigrew would be the one to ride it into the maze. And she would not get lost.”
He studied her a moment and smiled. “I can see Mrs. Pettigrew making a grand entrance on an elephant… and I’m going to check into it.”
“No,” she breathed. “Yer serious?”
“Of course, I am. I think it’s a grand idea.” He scribbled something else down.
“Well, if yer going to be looking for an elephant, ye might as well make the guests dress up as carnival players or some such thing.”
He slowly turned to her, a smile forming on his face. “You know, you’re marvelously creative when you want to be.”
“What? How can ye say such a thing? Ye barely know me.”
He laughed. “Miss O’Connell, in the short time I’ve worked with you, I can have perceived that you’re very imaginative indeed.”
Abigail’s heart warmed at his praise. Maybe Hattie told him how she played with the children and came up with games to help them learn their arithmetic and spelling.
They worked into the evening hours, hardly noticing how quickly the time slipped away. By the time they were done, they had a list of everything they thought they would need, including how many extra hands it would take to see everything done in a timely manner.
This would be no small undertaking, and Abigail hoped she was fit for the task. Mr. Bailey’s attention to detail was astounding! For Abigail, creating something out of nothing was thrilling and engaging, and she realized she’d drawn too close to him on several occasions. She finally dragged one of the chairs closer to the desk, so she wasn’t hovering next to him. The chair put some distance between them, and she hoped he didn’t think her earlier hovering bordered on impropriety.
She also hoped he couldn’t hear the rapid beat of her heart. Goodness gracious, it beat so loudly at times she swore he could hear it.
Abigail dragged the chair back to its regular place, then wiped her hands on her apron. “Are we quite done here, Mr. Bailey?”
“Yes, I think our list is complete.” He stood, list in hand, and perused it. “I’ll take this upstairs to my room in case I think of anything else. If I do, I’ll let you know before we present it to Mrs. Pettigrew in the morning.”
“Very well, then,” she said. “I’ll bid ye a good night.” She bobbed a curtsy and hurried from the drawing room. Spending so much time with a man had her flustered. So much so that she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to sleep!