13.

She shifted in the in front of the mirror trying desperately to tie the ties of the corset. How on God’s pretty green earth did women EVER live like this? “They had slaves to do all the hard work that’s what,” she muttered as she twisted and turned ineffectively trying for the sashes that ran along the waist of the killer undergarments of a woman from the civil war days. This just wasn’t going to work. How was she going to stay in costume for four days if she couldn’t get a freaking corset on? She hadn’t even started on the yards of hoops or the actual dress, and she still had to do her hair. Glancing at her watch she nearly screamed. She had less than an hour to be ready for the carriage. Jesus.

Just as she was getting ready to scream for Richie a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Slipping on her robe she moved to the door and opened it, ready to start the begging if Richie was on the other side. A brow arched to see a young woman standing at the door.

“Miss Waters? I’m Cecile, I’m to be your dresser for the next four days.”

Lind’s eyes widened, “How did you know?”

Celeste smiled slightly and nodded towards the man standing on the hotel balcony. “A certain kind gentleman had an idea you might need assistance, and all southern ladies always had a maid that accompanied them. I’m to be yours during the fundraiser, if that’s ok?”

She leaned to the side her eyes flickering as she took in the long length of Richie dressed in all his southern plantation owner style. He would think of this, he always seemed to think of everything. She blew him a kiss and mouthed “owe ya one,” before stepping back into the bedroom and allowing the girl entrance. “So you do this often Celeste?”

The young woman grinned, “I do this for a living, work in the fashion design department for a studio. Met Mr. Sambora when they were out there filming once, lucky for you huh?”

Linds grinned, “oh yeah, but then every day since meeting that big goof has been a lucky day.”

Within short order Cecile had her leaning against the wall and was tightening the stays of the corset, which had Linds believing she’d probably never breathe again. “Jesus, how did they breathe or eat back then?”

Celeste just laughed and kept tying the ties. “They didn’t honey, proper southern girls were very restricted.”

Linds pulled at the skirts as her dresser settled the volumes of fabric over her head. “You can say that again.”

~~~~

He looked up as the bedroom door opened and his breath caught in his throat. God damn if she wasn’t gorgeous. Her hair was swept up into some loosely curled type knot with a few stray tendrils teasing that neck he so loved to nibble, and her shoulders were bare. God help him she looked like a true southern belle. He stepped forward and did an exaggerated bow over her hand. Putting a bit of southern drawl into his normal voice he kissed her palm. “Hello there beautiful.”

She curled her hand under his chin and pulled him up, leaning in to attempt a kiss only to be thwarted by the pure volume of her skirts. “Hello there yourself kind sir.” Blue eyes slowly moved over his body and felt her skin flush at how absolutely he fit the costume, from the soft leather of his riding pants to the silky shirt that was, believe it or not left partially buttoned. “You don’t look bad yourself Sir.”

He leaned in to pull her close and started muttering as the multitude of hoops and petticoats kept him a good eight inches from her body. “You are in there somewhere right babe?”

She laughed and slipped an arm through his as they started to the door. “Ya know I’m not so sure anymore, trussed up like a pig to the point I can’t breathe here. No wonder women back then complained of having the vapors.”

They wandered out of the hotel room rented just to get into costume and along the hallway chatting amiably about all the Fundraiser committee had planned. As they reached the elevator they heard a soft “hold on!” Turning Lind’s eyes brightened to see Jon striding towards them, dressed in all the finery a man of the 19th century could muster. He was formal from head to toe and looking pretty darned good. “Ya know Jon, if this old man here hadn’t swept me off my feet…”

Jon’s brow flicked up as he took in Richie’s idea of casual southern wear, and Linds in all her southern belle finery and grinned. “Well thank you ma’am. You two ready?”

Richie slapped Jon on the shoulder and muttered, “As soon as I figure out what the exits on that damned outfit of hers is I will be.”

Jon roared with laughter as the elevator doors opened. “Is that all you can think of my brother?”

Richie’s rolled his eyes and groaned, “Man if Dot was that unapproachable thanks to clothing you’d be bitching too.”

Linds snorted before slowly moving next to Richie, her arm barely reaching his waist. “Just be glad we don’t SLEEP in this stuff Richard.”

His eyes brightened as the thoughts of what the night could bring hit him. “Oh hell baby I’m gonna be living for the nights.”

She smiled and settled for taking his hand as they exited the elevator. Making their way outside her eyes brightened as she took in the old style carriage and the four horses pulling it. “Jiminy Crickets!”

Jon watched as the pure elegance of a horse drawn carriage ride had her eyes shining. She was loving this. As he glanced at Richie, the patient grin on his friend’s face spoke volumes. He’d explained once how he hated the old south and movies from that time, and yet here he was, dressed up in costume and escorting his lady fair. Sometimes it amazed him how far Richie would go for love, but then he understood it, he’d gone the distance a time or two himself for the love of his life.

Richie helped Linds into the carriage; then laughed as she fought with her skirts until they lay obediently around her. Every so often he caught a flash of ankle and it actually teased and thrilled him, that tiny slice of skin covered so carefully by yards and yards of cloth. Hmm, maybe this type of clothing had its bonuses, he knew for sure it would have him in distraction by days end.

She tilted her head as Celeste dashed from the hotel calling her name. “Miss Waters, you forgot your parasol. All good Southern girls have to have their parasol.”

Jon snorted, Richie laughed as Linds blushed and reached for the small barely there umbrella thing. “Well thank you Celeste. Really. What would I be without you?”

Richie glanced at Jon, then at Celeste and muttered, “Naked the way I like you?”

She clicked open the parasol praying it would help hide the blush that threatened. He never hid how he felt, hell she felt the same, but sometimes his speak before think mode managed to throw her. As Celeste called out a see you at the plantation she felt the soft jolt of the carriage beginning to move. She twirled her parasol and looked again, the rolling of the carriage setting alight the excitement that had been building for days.

Richie’s arm slipped around her shoulders as he leaned back, pulling the brim of his hat to shade his eyes. It would figure they’d so something from a time that didn’t have sunglasses. He glanced over at Jon and chuckled, seems he’d had the same idea, his hat securely jammed over his face. “Well this should be fun.”

Lind’s glanced over at him as Jon snorted, her gaze finding two men with hats securely over eyes. “Poor Rock stars.”