"No," Cole said. "I wouldn't want to do that."
"Listen," Annabel said quickly, "I'll pay you back. I've said all along this is only a loan—"
"Don't worry about it right now." Cole was still looking intently at her, wondering at the miracle Mellisande had wrought in only a couple of hours. Annabel had gone from a beautiful but definitely odd visitor to a young woman who was the very picture of genteel grace and loveliness.
Annabel took hold of the corset through the dress and tugged on it, trying in vain to make it more comfortable and keep the whalebone stays from biting into her flesh. "I still don't know how anybody stands to wear these things for very long," she said.
Cole swallowed. Annabel would always have eccentricities, he supposed. He strode across the room and offered her his arm. "Shall we go?" he asked.
"Where?"
The blunt question took him by surprise. "Well . . . I thought we might have some dinner."
Annabel nodded and said, "That would be fine."
"Have all the other clothes delivered to my house," Cole told Mellisande. That wouldn't be their ultimate destination, of course, but for the time being, there was nothing else he could do.
"Wait just a minute," Annabel said sharply. "Your house?"
Cole felt himself flushing with embarrassment. "I meant the St. Francis Hotel, of course," he lied. Renting a room for her there would be the simplest thing to do, he supposed, though such a course of action might still expose Annabel to some ugly gossip.
He was surprised to see Annabel shake her head. "What about a nice, inexpensive boardinghouse? Aren't there any of those in this city?"
"Well, yes, I suppose there are," Cole said. "I can make some inquiries."
"You do that," Mellisande said as she came over to stand beside him. She patted his arm and whispered, "In the meantime, I'll have the clothes sent to Russian Hill."
To his house, she meant. Dear Lord, Mellisande thought that Annabel was his mistress!
But then, what else could she have thought under the circumstances?
Cole squared his shoulders. Appearances be hanged! He was just trying to help Annabel, and he would do as he saw fit.
"That would be fine," he told Mellisande.
Smiling happily and keeping one hand on Cole's arm, Mellisande led him over to Annabel and took her arm with her other hand. She steered both of them toward the front door of the shop. "Go on now and enjoy your dinner," she said. "And please come back to see me sometime, Miss Lowell . . . Annabel. I find you a delightful young woman."
"Thank you," Annabel said. "And thank you for the clothes. They're . . . they're lovely."
"Oh, don't thank me. Thank your gallant rescuer, Mr. Brady."
Cole felt the full power of Annabel's eyes at close range as she turned her gaze on him. "I intend to," she murmured.
Feeling disconcerted by the way she was looking at him, Cole rather awkwardly linked his arm with hers and cleared his throat. "We should be going," he said. "It's already late, and we may have to wait a bit for a table at a decent restaurant."
"I don't mind waiting," Annabel said.
Behind them, Mellisande watched them go, a satisfied smile on her face. Nothing made her happier than matchmaking . . . Well, unless it was an unusually lucrative sale, such as the pile of boxes in the back room of the shop represented. But she had to admit that, despite Annabel Lowell's oddities, the girl truly was beautiful, and she and Cole Brady made a lovely couple. Mellisande wished them nothing but happiness.
She was already toting up the cost of a trousseau in her head.
****
She should have been ashamed of herself, Annabel thought. She hadn't meant to embarrass Cole. And after all he had done to help her!
At the same time, when he had said something about having the new clothes delivered to his house, she hadn't been able to keep from wondering about what he had in mind. Did he expect her to be his mistress now? If so, he was going to be disappointed. She was intrigued by him, true enough. Anyone with the sort of money that Mellisande claimed he had who continued to work as a fireman because he enjoyed it. . . Well, that was the sort of man in whom Annabel was going to take a keen interest. Nearly every firefighter she had ever known had chosen that career because of a sincere desire to help people and a love for the work. But how many of them would have kept at it if a fortune had dropped in their laps? She wasn't sure even she had that dedication.
Those thoughts were going through her mind as she walked arm in arm down Montgomery Street with Cole. Suddenly, he broke into them by asking, "What are you thinking?"
"About firemen," she said, and then, abruptly, she stopped in her tracks. Her hand went to her mouth. "Oh, no!"
Cole frowned worriedly. "What's wrong?"
"I have to go back," Annabel said. She slipped her arm out of his and turned quickly. She wanted to break into a run, but in the corset and long dress, that was impossible.