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It sometimes took you by surprise how easy it was to sneak into these parties and events. But then you knew from experience how easy it was to practically disappear into the wallpaper, when it came to these wealthy families and their never-ending calendar of social events. Saint Denis was no different. With a mop cap to hide your face, a plain grey skirt, clean blouse and the apron tucked around your waist, none of the rich party guests gave you a second look.
A couple of the servants threw odd looks your way, perhaps trying to figure out who you were and why they had never seen you before, but none of them questioned it. Even when you left the garden party, pockets loaded with valuables, your strong, quick pace meant no one questioned where you were going.
Finally, after getting away from the tall red brick building and it’s sprawling gardens, you removed the mop cap and untied the apron. You slipped both into your pockets and began the long walk back to your pony, Pepper.
The hot sun baked the street, but with the marshy swamp around the area it wasn’t a pleasant warmth. The air was humid and heavy, and you felt a trickle of sweat run down your back. You wished you had brought a fan with you, but there hadn’t been any room for it. You decided to cut through one of the city’s parks, so you could splash your face with the water from the fountain there.
The leafy, green trees in the park gave some much needed shade, and you approached the large, marble fountain at the centre with it’s gawkish looking fish spewing water from their mouths. A couple of people were dotted about the park, some sat on the edge of the fountain itself, a few on the benches. You got a few disapproving looks when you splashed the cold water on the back of your neck and then pressed your now cooler hands against your face.
Satisfied that you could at least make it across the city without getting too sweaty during the journey, you wiped your hands on your skirt and began to walk to the other side of the park. Around the pathways and stone wall that marked the outer edge of the public garden, a cluster of shops and businesses lined the street.
You briefly glanced at the tailors, debating whether you could afford a new dress, considering your current one was a little worse for wear. A pretty light blue, summer dress caught your attention in the window. It had three quarter length sleeves, with white lace around the neckline and waist, and tiny daisies dotted the amongst the blue fabric. You pursed your lips on seeing the price. Sure, it wasn’t made of silk, satin or velvet, so you could probably scrape together enough for it, but then doubtless in the weeks that followed it would only get crumpled and dirty.
You sighed and were about to turn around to continue your walk, when a voice behind you made you jump. ‘Would look good on yer.’
Arthur chuckled when he saw your expression change rapidly from one of surprise to fear then to annoyance.
‘You’ve got to stop doing that, Arthur!’ You muttered.
‘You’ve got to stop being so god damn jumpy all the time.’
‘I’ll have you know-’ and you quickly looked around, checking to make sure Arthur was the only one who could hear you. ‘I’ve just robbed a house, so yes, I’m a little jumpy.’
‘Whatcha get?’
You grinned. ‘None of your damn business.’
He smiled and rubbed a hand against his chin. ‘Aw, and there was me going to treat ya, but if you got a good enough prize, guess you can treat yourself.’
‘Treat me? What do you mean?’
‘Oh, yer still interested?’
You rolled your eyes. ‘Well if you’re just going to play games with me, Mr Morgan, I best be on my way. Pepper is waiting for me and he’d probably be better company.’
You moved away from the shop and began walking down the street, but Arthur still fell in step beside you. ‘Don’ know why you like that pony so much, he’s a stubborn, scruffy thing.’
You smiled and arched your eyebrows. ‘Guess you would know a lot about that, Arthur!’
Arthur tried to bite back his smile, and looked down at his boots.. ‘I ain’t too scruffy.’
‘He’s a sweetheart really, deep down,’ You replied, then quickly glanced away, warmth rushing to your cheeks when you realised that you very much felt the same way about the man next to you.
After a short walk Arthur came to a sudden halt and gestured to a small shop tucked underneath an archway. ‘Anyway, we’re here now.’
‘Where?’ You asked, looking up at the sign over the business. La Glace Parlour. You frowned, unable to gather why you were here and what Arthur had in mind. He sighed, shook his head, then pressed a hand to the small of your back and guided you to a small sign they had in the window. Though the feeling of his warm palm against the thin material of your dress, meant your mind could barely focus on the words in front of you.
‘Ice cream, pastries and light refreshments,’ you finally read, hoping that Arthur could not feel the slight shake that ran through you as he pulled his hand away from your back. You looked up at him.
He seemed to give up on your cluelessness, and went to open the door, the quiet afternoon interrupted by the bright ring of the bell over the door. ‘You still want raspberry?’
‘Um… Raspberry ice cream?’
‘Sure.’
‘I guess, but wait-’
He didn’t and walked quickly into the shop, leaving you alone on the street and fiddling with the frayed material of your sleeve. He wasn’t long though, soon returning holding a cone topped with a reddish pink swirl of ice cream and offered it to you.
‘Oh, thank you, Arthur.’ You took the cone from him, and licked the edge of the ice cream to stop it dribbling down. You relished the sharp, zingy flavour of the raspberries and the contrast between the cold sweet treat and the warmth of the afternoon sun. You mm-ed softly and smiled at Arthur, who quickly looked away, his cheeks reddening a little.
He shrugged. ‘S’alright, saw it when I was last here, remembered what you said. Figured I’d invite you into town at some point, but as you were already here…’
‘You ain’t getting one?’ you asked.
‘Nah.’
‘Well, you should try some of mine then, it’s really good,’ you offered the cone to him.
‘Nah, that’s all yours.’
‘Feel kind of bad that you’re not having any.’ You took another lick, before glancing at the man beside you. ‘This isn’t just because you’re a big gruff outlaw who can’t have ice cream, is it?’
He choked out a laugh then. ‘What?’
‘Don’t want to ruin your fearsome reputation by enjoying something sweet!’
Arthur managed to force out a strained sounding laugh, then rubbed the back of his head and scratched under the brim of his hat. ‘No, I… no, that’s not… I can enjoy...’ he tailed off, suddenly staring at the road, as though the dust of Saint Denis and the passing coaches were the most interesting things in the world.
Perhaps it was seeing him as equally flustered and speechless, as you were normally, that left you feeling a little bolder. You dipped your thumb into the ice cream and then brushed it over his cheek. You would have almost felt bad, but his startled expression only left you in a fit of giggles.
He tried to look annoyed, but failed miserably. He lifted up his bandana. ‘I could just wipe that off with this.’
‘Oh, but then you’d ruin my fun and my devious plan, Arthur Morgan!’
He smiled, wiped his thumb against the light red stain on his cheek and popped into this mouth. You immediately remembered why you were often speechless and flustered around Arthur. His sharp blue eyes stared into your own, and you knew you were biting your lower lip while a warm flush crept up your cheeks.
He pulled his thumb from his mouth with a pop and you felt your mouth drop open, before you managed to slam it shut. Arthur gave you a slight smirk, but his eyes dropped to your hand and he quickly reached out.
‘Careful, you’ll drop it!’ His hand grabbed your own and pulled it up, so you wouldn’t drop the cone in the dirt of the path. Little dribbles of red ice cream ran down your hand, and you unthinkingly darted your tongue out to lick up the melted cream.
‘Thank you for-’ You looked up at Arthur who was staring at you so fiercely, it almost made you forget the ice cream in your hand again. Even under the shadow of his hat, his eyes were dark and stormy, pupils blown wide. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it or if you had really seen his eyes drop to your pink stained lips.
He cleared his throat, then put his hand on your back once more, and forced you to walk ahead of him. ‘Come on, can’t be late back.’
Tilly let out a small ‘hm’ when you unwrapped the brown paper parcel you had found on your bedroll a few days later, and found the blue dress dotted with daisies therein.
‘Wonder who got you that?’ she said sarcastically.
You revelled in the warm feeling that entered the pit of your stomach and pulled the dress up to look at it properly. You’d have to think of a seriously good way of thanking Arthur Morgan for his kindness.